Chapter 1198: Twenty-Three Runes

Chapter 1197: Twenty-Three Runes

The divine sense of twenty-two-rune peak Dao Transformation divine sense cultivator was already stronger than that of most early Golden Core cultivators.

This meant that Mo Hua’s concealment was impossible to be detected.

In front of early Golden Core cultivators, Mo Hua’s presence was like that of a ghost or deity—heaven knew, earth knew, but no one else could.

He stood in the darkness, like a heart-manipulating demon.

Meanwhile, Iron Shugu’s faith was subtly guided by Mo Hua, forming a closed loop of self-deception.

Afterward, Mo Hua’s figure silently faded away, as if he had never come, as if he had never existed.

Iron Shugu remained immersed in his fanaticism. Only when the frenzy subsided and reason barely returned did he sense something strange.

But this thought had already been deeply planted in his heart.

Whenever Iron Shugu thought, his mind naturally formed a “closed loop”:

“That Shaman is a demon skilled at beguiling hearts. It walks the world wearing human skin, plotting to harm Lord Barbarian God and usurp the divine throne.”

“But it can only kill ‘false gods’.”

“The true Lord Barbarian God, who possesses heaven-piercing divine might, will surely slay that demon and save me from fire and water.”

“Why would Lord Barbarian God save me?”

“Because I am Lord Barbarian God’s most loyal believer…”

“Otherwise, why would Lord Barbarian God personally send me guidance in a dream…”

The more he thought, the more he firmly believed in this reasoning, which he thought divinely inspired.

Iron Shugu’s chest burned with fervor.

Loyalty filled his heart.

“I must do something for Lord Barbarian God… devote my all, until death…”

Iron Shugu muttered with fanatical persistence.

He began rummaging through his storage pouch, pulling out a pile of maps, then spent the whole night marking and studying them.

He researched the entire night.

The next day, Iron Shugu went to see Mo Hua, presenting the maps he had painstakingly prepared overnight.

Mo Hua looked somewhat “surprised” and asked, “This is?”

Iron Shugu grew ever more respectful:

“Reporting to Lord Shaman, this is a map of my Shugu Tribe, including the branch tribes, minor tribes, and wandering clans. Wherever there are statues and altars, I have marked them.”

“Tribes may migrate, but the places of worship never change.”

Mo Hua pondered for a moment, then asked, “Why did you suddenly bring me these maps?”

Iron Shugu’s heart skipped a beat.

He had been so focused on luring this “demon” to Lord Barbarian God that he hadn’t realized such unsolicited eagerness would arouse the Shaman’s suspicion.

A miscalculation!

Mo Hua’s gaze gradually grew cold.

The image of the baleful bone-sword demon surfaced in his mind, making Iron Shugu tremble with fear.

Seeing this, Mo Hua casually “reminded”:

“Could it be… you wish to defect to the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe?”

This was like grasping at a lifeline.

Iron Shugu seized the chance and quickly nodded, “Yes! Yes! I… I wish to submit to the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe…”

Mo Hua asked again, “Why?”

Iron Shugu’s mind raced, hastily finding reasons for himself:

“My… Shugu Tribe is cruel, filled with strife and cold-bloodedness. But the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe… its people live in harmony, especially… Young Lord Dan-Zhu, who loves his people as his own, unmatched in courage. And… and…”

Iron Shugu glanced at Mo Hua, “Lord Shaman, you… are blessed by the gods, compassionate and wise. Surely you can spread the Divine-Lord’s radiance across the Great Wilderness—your future is boundless…”

Mo Hua nodded slightly, clearly satisfied.

Iron Shugu let out a quiet breath of relief.

Mo Hua lowered his gaze to the maps, suppressing his inward delight, and asked evenly:

“These maps… are you certain they are genuine?”

Iron Shugu bowed solemnly: “I, Iron Shugu, swear on my head, there is no mistake.”

Mo Hua said: “Truly swear on your head?”

Iron Shugu hurriedly answered: “Yes.”

Mo Hua nodded. “I understand your intentions. Do your duty well. Young Lord Dan-Zhu will not mistreat you, nor will the Divine-Lord.”

Seeing that this “Demonic-Shaman” believed him, Iron Shugu felt an immense weight lifted from his shoulders.

He cupped his hands: “Thank you for your grace, Lord Shaman. I shall take my leave.”

Before leaving, Iron Shugu couldn’t resist stealing a glance at Mo Hua from the corner of his eye.

Red lips, white teeth, a handsome face, eyes clear as water.

He hadn’t noticed before, but now, looking again, he found the Shaman’s complexion unnaturally pale—like the skin of a corpse. The lips red, as if stained with blood.

In those clear eyes lingered an odd, dissonant innocence.

And precisely because of that innocence…

He was not human!

Not human, without human worldliness, thus carrying that inexplicable sense of “innocence.”

Such a flawless, beautiful demonic visage!

And this demon could wear human skin, walk openly in the world, calling himself a shaman, claiming to be one blessed by the Divine-Lord.

How profound must his cultivation be?

Iron Shugu shivered with cold dread.

The thought that he was now plotting against this demon, and would later serve him, leading him step by step to Lord Barbarian God’s blade…

Iron Shugu felt both fear and “glory,” as though shouldering a great mission, a tragic sense of heroism swelling within him.

His eyes grew steely as iron.

But he still lowered his gaze, not daring to meet Mo Hua’s eyes, afraid that his “rebellious” little schemes might be noticed by this terrifying demon, ruining everything.

Iron Shugu bowed and withdrew.

Mo Hua, however, looked amused, secretly pondering.

“This Iron Shugu… truly is a ‘talent’…”

“Yet… there is something odd about him.”

Mo Hua couldn’t help but softly murmur Iron Shugu’s prayer from last night:

“May the ancestors bless… bless the believers, bless the descendants, to avert calamity and escape misfortune.”

“Let all disasters pass me by, let all karma shift onto others.”

“Straw dogs become me, the dead do not kill me…”

To avert calamity… disasters not touching the self, karma shifting onto others…

And those straw dogs…

What did these words mean?

Could it be that Iron Shugu carried some kind of karmic inheritance?

What kind of inheritance? What incantation? What medium? What method? What law of cause and effect?

Why did Iron Shugu bear such an inheritance?

Was it a blessing from the Barbarian God?

Or some secret art passed down from his so-called ancestors?

Did Iron Shugu even know he carried such an inheritance? Did he truly understand the meaning of those karmic words?

The more Mo Hua thought, the deeper his gaze became.

…

In the month that followed, with Iron Shugu—the “traitor” fanatically loyal to Lord Barbarian God—as his guide, Mo Hua began a more precise campaign against the Shugu Tribe.

He had only one goal: To find the Barbarian God.

To devour the Barbarian God, in order to replenish and increase his divine sense.

Iron Bone’s purpose was also only one: To lead Mo Hua to the Barbarian God.

So that the true Barbarian God could kill this “demonic Shaman” Mo Hua.

To reach this goal faster, Iron Bone even personally attacked his own Shugu Tribe, clearing obstacles for Mo Hua, breaching cities and toppling forts.

He hadn’t acted before, because after all, he was a Golden Core cultivator, the leader of the Shugu nomadic clan.

He was not the same as ordinary tribesmen.

Here in the Great Wilderness, the surrender of a chieftain was considered disgraceful.

Iron Bone still cared for his dignity—he could not bow to a powerful foe, could not submit to an enemy tribe and raise his hand against his own people.

But now things were different.

He had received guidance from the Barbarian God, seen through falsehoods, strengthened his faith, and understood what he must do—so he no longer cared about others’ judgment.

Even if in the eyes of others, this Shugu “chieftain” was a traitor, fallen, shameless—he did not care at all.

For the sake of the Barbarian God, he was willing to endure such humiliation and bear all misunderstanding.

His devotion would be witnessed by the Barbarian God himself.

Thus, Iron Shugu transformed into the vanguard of Mo Hua’s crusade against the Shugu Tribe.

When attacking stronger sub-tribes, Dan Zhu or Chi Feng had to take the field.

But when attacking smaller ones, with little or no Golden Core strength—whether sub-tribes or nomadic clans—Iron Bone became the main force.

Each time they conquered a Shugu tribe, Iron Bone would personally lead Mo Hua before the altar and its idol.

He himself arranged the ritual, prepared the offerings, lit the bone-fire, and danced the sacrificial dance—everything prepared for Mo Hua.

Then, in the hazy air, mystery descended.

Iron Bone again entered the divine dream, once more encountering the Barbarian God of the Shugu Tribe.

As always, he kowtowed to the Barbarian God.

And as always, a brilliant sword-light flashed, and the Barbarian God’s head fell off once again.

In the past, Iron Bone would have panicked, confused, and terrified.

But now, he only sighed silently in his heart: “Just another ‘false god’…”

The true Barbarian God could not possibly be beheaded by that sword-dao demon.

Those beheaded could only be “false gods.”

Iron Shugu kept searching.

Searching for the one Barbarian God who could not be slain by the sword-dao demon, whose entire body radiated dazzling pure golden light.

Only that Barbarian God could save him from calamity.

Only that Barbarian God could kill the dreadful Shaman fiend in human skin.

Afterward, Iron Shugu continued searching, constantly leading Mo Hua to crusade against Shugu tribes great and small, seize altars, and strike down idols.

Iron Shugu was even more zealous than Mo Hua himself.

And he kept entering dreams, kept kowtowing.

And with every kowtow, another Barbarian God’s head rolled.

As he kept kowtowing, Iron Shugu realized: after so many altars, so many times, he had yet to meet the true Barbarian God. Instead, that sword-dao “demon” seemed to grow deeper and stronger, and the oppressive pressure it gave him grew heavier and heavier.

It was a pressure at the level of divine sense—formless, yet seeping into every crack, a chilling oppression.

The stronger this pressure grew, the more urgent Iron Shugu felt.

And this pressure reached its peak a few months later, when they conquered a powerful Shugu sub-tribe. After Iron Shugu danced the sacrificial rite, entered the dream, kowtowed, and “kowtowed to death” another twisted “false god,” he suddenly felt as if burning in a fiery prison.

Then he heard a sound like a hurricane inhaling.

In the next instant, a terrifying aura erupted.

Brilliant golden light, sharp as a sword, an overwhelming momentum rising higher and higher, like a hurricane sweeping all around, pressing down until Iron Bone could hardly breathe.

He could only kneel on the ground, head buried low, not daring to look at anything.

But in his heart, he knew: this must be the Shaman fiend, after slaying enough “false gods,” advancing its divine sense yet again.

He did not know how long it lasted before the storm dissipated.

The dream twisted and scattered.

As the world spun, Iron Shugu opened his eyes again and found himself kneeling before a statue.

The idol’s head was still there—but its “soul” was gone.

Iron Shugu’s heart trembled; he couldn’t help but turn his head toward Mo Hua—just in time to see black-and-white light flash briefly in his eyes, as vast divine sense surged like a vortex into his body, his whole being exuding an abyss-like eerie aura.

Then, all that aura disappeared.

Mo Hua was still Mo Hua, appearing just like an ordinary “man.”

But Iron Shugu felt chills.

He was certain: this demon had grown stronger again.

This demon’s cultivation was already terrifyingly strong. Now its divine sense had advanced further—just how powerful would it become?

Fear gnawed at Iron Shugu’s heart, making him anxious: “I must lead this Shaman demon to the true Barbarian God’s body as soon as possible. Otherwise, the longer this drags on, the stronger it grows, and the greater the threat to the Barbarian God will become.”

If this demon continued to grow, reaching a certain level, the situation could completely change.

Even if the Barbarian God could truly slay it, the cost would surely be enormous.

And accidents or dangers might very well occur.

Iron Shugu believed in the Barbarian God, but he dared not underestimate this “demon.”

A demon that dared to covet gods could never be an ordinary demon.

“It must be done soon! Quickly! This demon must be trapped and slain!”

Iron Shugu was consumed with worry.

Mo Hua, on the other hand, was filled with joy: “At last… twenty-three runes…”

After months of being led by Iron Shugu to devour Barbarian Gods and consume divine sense. His divine sense had finally reached twenty-three runes—the peak divine sense realm of early Golden Core stage.

Even Mo Hua himself hadn’t expected it to go so smoothly.

This Iron Shugu had truly been an immense help to him.

Indeed, there was a vast difference between forcing someone to act under threat and making them willingly serve you.

The Dao-Heart Seeding Demon, the guidance of divine sense—truly the supreme methods of the Great Dao.

Next, he could finally begin attempting to study the Taotie Runes.

Mo Hua’s eyes shone brightly.

But before he could make time for it, the surrounding situation suddenly deteriorated.

Mo Hua’s original plan also met with heavy obstacles.

First: the many conquered small and outer Shugu tribes had too few people left to hold them, leading to frequent uprisings.

Second: after one of the Six Freaks of Shugu was slain, the remaining five regrouped their barbarian cultivators and sought revenge against Dan Zhu.

Third: famine.

After several months, the famine that had once stalled in place began spreading again.

Once famine spread, disaster grew. All the surrounding small and medium tribes were severely affected.

More and more tribes fell into extreme hunger, forced to survive by “eating” people.

Across the Great Wilderness, faith grew increasingly corrupted, and evil thoughts spread.

And the “practical reforms” Mo Hua had instructed Dan-Zhu to carry out also failed.

Indeed, Dan-Zhu had followed Mo Hua’s teachings—distributing resources evenly in the conquered Shugu tribes, forbidding wanton slaughter, promoting education, improving livelihood, and so on…

But such things could never be achieved overnight. To truly establish them might take ten, twenty, even a hundred years.

Yet to destroy them took only a single day.

With Mo Hua, the Shaman, and Dan-Zhu, the young chieftain, sitting in charge, things could still run in an orderly fashion.

But once the two left, the situation gradually worsened.

Within the tribes, some harbored selfishness, greed, and lusts, always stealing the tribe’s interests for themselves.

Once one person started, more and more followed.

Soon, the newly set “rules” became nothing more than empty words.

In a single night, the tribes fell again into infighting, waste, corruption, and chaos.

And beyond the internal strife, the Six Freaks of Shugu—and even other surrounding small and medium tribes—would often come to kill and plunder.

All the newly built foundations crumbled before they could even be solidified.

Just at this time, famine spread again.

Nearly a thousand miles around the Shugu Tribe plunged into greater turmoil. Tribes slaughtered and plundered one another, countless lives were lost, and wails of grief arose everywhere.

Mo Hua gazed at the ravaged land and the endlessly warring tribes, letting out a slow sigh.

His divine sense was indeed growing stronger.

But the situation was steadily becoming worse and worse…

(End of the Chapter)