Chapter 1220: Chess Piece

Chapter 1219: Chess Piece

No one spoke. Everyone’s expression was grave.

Only the heavy, uneven footsteps drew nearer and nearer.

In the suffocating atmosphere, the figures within the miasma finally revealed itself.

Lu-Gu’s pupils shrank violently.

These people of the Shi-Gu Tribe… no longer looked much like “humans.”

Their faces, arms, and bodies were full of bite marks, as though they had been “eaten.” Yet blood still dripped from the corners of their mouths—clear proof that they too had “eaten” others.

You eat me, I eat you—exchanging flesh and blood. Bound together through some subtle contract.

The only one left intact was the giant youth among them, with a body like a mountain.

He was none other than Lu-Gu’s elder brother, the other Grand General of the Shugu Tribe—A late Golden Core barbarian cultivator: Shi-Gu.

But even now, Shi-Gu’s condition was far from good.

His strength was overwhelming—no one could “eat” him, only he could eat others.

Yet it seemed he had “eaten” too many. His blood and flesh were in chaos, meridians bulging, skin splitting, and both eyes had turned faintly gray-black.

He looked like a towering “Zombie King.”

Yet within his body, traces of vitality lingered—astonishingly, he was not quite dead.

Lu-Gu gazed upon this elder brother, once awe-inspiring, now half-living, half-dead—a walking corpse. His heart twisted with unspeakable feelings.

“Big Brother, you…” Lu-Gu’s voice was bitter.

But Shi-Gu made no response. His mind, long tormented by hunger, had nearly vanished.

What drove him now was only the craving for “flesh and blood.”

Mo Hua watched Shi-Gu, especially those gray-black eyes, his expression heavy.

An unease sprouted in his chest.

Suddenly, an evil intent surged in the air, spreading a sulfurous stench.

Mo Hua’s gaze trembled slightly, then he spoke in a deep voice:

“Everyone, prepare for battle!”

As a Shaman, Mo Hua’s prestige was immense—his commands absolute.

The moment his words fell, Chi Feng and Dan-Zhu activated their treasures.

The Vermilion Sparrow Tribe’s barbarian soldiers raised their long spears.

Even some Shugu Tribe soldiers, who had grown used to following Mo Hua’s lead along the journey, instinctively lifted their bone spears against Shi-Gu.

Lu-Gu’s cold voice cut through: “That is my brother. Who dares?”

The Shugu soldiers had no choice but to lower their weapons.

But just then, a wave of intense blood-reek spread out. A bestial roar, inhuman and furious, shook the mountains, making the blood-mist quiver like a storm of gore.

Shi-Gu’s gray-black eyes began to roll erratically.

Blood vessels burst at their corners.

This time, he truly seemed to have been “awakened.”

From deep within his giant heart surged an ocean-deep hunger, shaking the minds of all the soldiers present.

In the very next instant, Shi-Gu vanished.

No one could follow his movements.

When he reappeared, he stood before the Shugu soldiers’ formation. With one sweeping punch, eight heads exploded into a mist of blood.

Before everyone’s eyes, Shi-Gu snapped the corpses’ limbs apart—like tearing apart a roast chicken—and devoured them raw.

The crowd stood horrified, frozen in terror.

Shi-Gu ate with terrifying speed, like a possessed Taotie. In just a few bites, all eight were swallowed.

All within the span of a few blinks.

And still unsated, Shi-Gu looked to change his “flavor.”

As a general of the Shugu tribe, he had grown bored of his own tribesmen’s taste.

In a flash, the giant vanished again.

For that fleeting instant, his presence was gone.

Only Mo Hua caught it—his gaze darkening, divine sense locking on. He pointed, conjuring a spark of fire at his fingertip, shining into the void ahead.

Dan-Zhu understood instantly, releasing Mystic Flame feathers that shot toward the point Mo Hua indicated.

The feathers struck the air and exploded.

From the flames emerged Shi-Gu’s enormous figure, palm descending like a great fan, aiming to crush several Vermilion Sparrow soldiers.

They could not react.

They could not dodge his killing hand.

But Mo Hua’s guidance and Dan-Zhu’s strike blasted Shi-Gu off-course, the shockwave throwing the soldiers clear—saving their lives.

Shi-Gu’s hand grasped only air. He howled at the sky, enraged.

Dan-Zhu’s cold voice rang out: “Form ranks!”

“Kill!”

Chi Feng charged first, spiritual power surging like molten lava. His spear burned like fire, thrusting at late-Golden-Core Shi-Gu.

Over a hundred Abyssal-Bone heavy soldiers formed ranks, surrounding him.

Shi-Gu roared, clashing with Chi Feng. His raw blood-qi alone crushed Chi Feng down.

The other heavy soldiers were no match at all.

One casual sweep from Shi-Gu sent more than a dozen armored men flying.

Their armor saved them from death, but bones shattered and blood spurted within.

Such was the might of late Golden Core.

Mo Hua’s heart shook, his gaze narrowing.

“No… perhaps it is not Golden Core’s might—perhaps it is Shi-Gu himself.”

For dozens of exchanges, Shi-Gu fought Chi Feng and Dan-Zhu. Though mindless, driven only by instinct, without treasures or techniques—his sheer fleshly strength still suppressed them.

Even the Abyssal-Bone heavy soldiers could not pressure him.

Here in the Third-Rank State, Golden Core power was unrestrained. Though the heavy armor soldiers matched Golden Core strength, they still could not rival Shi-Gu.

But though he held the advantage, the heavy armor kept him from killing.

And if he could not kill, he could not eat.

Driven to the brink of rage, Shi-Gu suddenly swept Chi Feng aside with a fist, took Dan-Zhu’s spear to the back—only for the blow to pierce his skin but not his life. With a roar, he vanished again.

Almost instantly, Mo Hua turned toward the Shugu ranks: “Careful!”

Several soldiers barely turned when Shi-Gu descended upon them.

A stench of gore swept forth as his iron-claw hands snapped two necks. He ripped them apart and devoured them on the spot.

The Shugu forces broke into chaos.

Mo Hua noticed: every time Shi-Gu devoured flesh, it instantly transformed into “nourishment,” fueling his meridians—powering his slaughter.

Shi-Gu was too strong. If he kept eating, the consequences would be unthinkable.

Mo Hua turned to Lu-Gu:

“Lu-Gu! Stop your brother—don’t let him eat again!”

Chi Feng barked: “He’s late Golden Core! If you don’t act, no one can face him head-on!”

Lu-Gu’s face went cold. “You’re giving me orders? Forcing me to slaughter my own kin?”

Chi Feng roared back: “Look at the situation!”

Mo Hua’s gaze was icy.

“Do you want your followers all dead at Shi-Gu’s hands? Do you want your tribe to become your brother’s meal?”

Even as he spoke, more Shugu soldiers were ripped apart, chewed, swallowed.

Lu-Gu’s face grew grim.

He didn’t want to fight his brother. But each moment’s delay meant more of his people dead.

If too many died, his title as general would be meaningless.

He inhaled deeply, then with gritted teeth drew a massive weapon from his spine—a bone-saber forged from a beast’s spine itself: the Demon-Slaying Bone Blade.

A true barbarian treasure, refined from demon bone, nurtured in his body.

Blade in hand, its white edge gleamed cold. He struck at Shi-Gu.

Sensing danger, Shi-Gu tossed aside half a corpse, his arms sprouting bony armor like gauntlets, clashing against Lu-Gu.

The two strongest late-Golden-Core warriors of the Shugu Tribe—brothers raised together—were forced into slaughter against each other.

At first, Lu-Gu held back. He could not bear to cut down his brother.

But the crushing pressure of Shi-Gu’s strength left no room. One misstep meant death.

He had no choice but to fight with all his might.

And in all the field, only Lu-Gu could withstand Shi-Gu’s assault.

Mo Hua seized the moment, his voice rapid with command: “Lord Chi Feng, join General Lu-Gu—suppress Shi-Gu together!”

“All other Golden Core cultivators, guard the flanks. Rotate in—only three strikes each!”

“Use your full strength, then retreat immediately. No matter what, do not linger!”

“Abyssal-Bone heavy armor soldiers, form a barrier at fifty zhang—defend, do not attack. Trap him!”

“All other soldiers, fall back one hundred zhang. Above all, do not get killed and eaten. If you’re not eaten, you’ve already helped greatly.”

“Dan-Zhu, deal with the other Shi-Gu undead remnants…”

…

Mo Hua’s orders fell one after another.

In an instant, the battlefield became clear.

Dan-Zhu led his men, cutting down the Shi-Gu Tribe’s zombie-like remnants.

Fortunately, because Shi-Gu’s tribe had been stricken by famine, devouring each other, most of them had already died. The number still “living” was not many.

Among the Golden Core, only the strongest one—Shi-Gu—remained. All the others had disappeared.

Therefore, as long as Shi-Gu could be suppressed, the situation could be controlled.

And the suppression of Shi-Gu went quite smoothly.

Shi-Gu was indeed strong, but he had no “mind,” fighting purely by instinct.

With Lu-Gu blocking him head-on, and the others taking turns—three moves each—the strongest form of “rotating battle,” Shi-Gu could only be continuously worn down, bit by bit “consumed.”

Moreover, since he couldn’t eat people, he couldn’t replenish his blood energy. With every ounce consumed, his strength weakened, his movements slowed.

As time went on, Shi-Gu gradually fell into disadvantage.

Yet even so, a starved camel is still bigger than a horse. Even without replenishment, Shi-Gu still possessed terrifying blood energy.

Precisely because of this, no one dared to be careless.

At last, after carefully wearing him down for a full hour, Shi-Gu’s blood-and-flesh power was finally exhausted, his lingering life force beginning to dissipate.

Another hundred rounds were fought, then all of a sudden Shi-Gu’s movements came to a complete stop.

Like a puppet whose spring had been unwound, he stood motionless, without the slightest breath.

Seeing this, everyone slowly lowered their treasures and weapons, letting out a long breath of relief.

Only Lu-Gu’s expression remained heavy, tinged with pain.

He wanted to step closer to see whether his elder brother was truly dead.

To see what exactly had happened to his brother.

But before he could, Mo Hua stopped him: “Don’t go over. He still has breath—he’s feigning death.”

Lu-Gu froze.

The third brother of the Shugu Five Fiends sneered toward Mo Hua:

“You take Lord Shi-Gu for what kind of man? Lord Shi-Gu, a heroic genius with great ambitions—how could he ever stoop to using such a despicable trick as feigning death.”

The Shugu Five Fiends were also Lu-Gu’s men.

The five brothers bore a grudge against Dan-Zhu, and only out of respect for Lu-Gu’s authority did they reluctantly stand together.

Naturally, in their hearts, they held no goodwill toward Dan-Zhu—or toward Mo Hua, this Vermilion Sparrow Tribe Shaman.

Now, hearing Mo Hua so belittle Lord Shi-Gu, dissatisfaction naturally surged.

Yet just as the third brother turned his head to look at Mo Hua.

The “shut-down” Shi-Gu abruptly opened his eyes again. In a flash, his figure vanished, only to reappear beside the third brother of the Shugu Five Fiends, faster than before.

A pair of bloodstained hands seized the third brother’s neck.

Unable to break free, the third brother’s face filled with terror. Turning his head, he saw the “heroic genius” Shi-Gu—his eyes now glowing green, like a crazed beast devoid of humanity.

Agonizing pain spread through his neck.

The third brother’s eyes bulged wide. He tried to struggle, but couldn’t.

At the same time, his blood was being sucked away by Shi-Gu.

And not only blood—his very flesh was being drawn by Shi-Gu’s gaping maw like a hurricane, slipping from his skin and mouth into his throat.

This was true devouring of blood and flesh.

Mo Hua’s gaze sharpened. He decisively shouted:

“Quick! Kill him!”

Chi Feng’s spear instantly blazed like fire, thrusting toward Shi-Gu’s chest—yet was deflected by Lu-Gu’s Demon-Slaying Bone Blade.

Chi Feng roared, “Lu-Gu, what do you mean by this?!”

Lu-Gu’s face was dark. “Shi-Gu is my elder brother.”

Chi Feng snapped, “Unless his heart meridians are utterly shredded, his life extinguished, he’ll keep eating people!”

Lu-Gu remained silent.

Mo Hua then said steadily: “If Shi-Gu swallows a Golden Core, replenishes his blood energy, and keeps eating, everyone here will die. He has already lost all reason. Even if you recognize him as your brother, he will not recognize you—he’ll still want to eat you.”

Lu-Gu’s heart trembled, but he still couldn’t decide.

But if he would not strike, others would.

The remaining four of the Shugu Five Fiends immediately unleashed their treasures, channeling evil power, aiming to shred Shi-Gu’s heart meridians.

Once six brothers, after one had died, they became the Shugu Five Fiends.

If another perished, they would become the Shugu Four Fiends.

But their cultivation was only at early Golden Core, the gap too wide. Their bone blades and bone swords, barbarian arts—they could only scratch Shi-Gu’s skin.

Meanwhile, the sound of chewing already came from Shi-Gu’s mouth.

The third brother’s flesh and blood had nearly been devoured.

Shi-Gu’s blood energy was gradually recovering. Even his eyes grew darker, deeper.

Everyone turned pale with shock.

Lu-Gu’s heart gave a heavy thud—if he still clung to brotherhood, and let Shi-Gu continue feeding, the situation would truly spiral beyond control.

At once, Lu-Gu slashed his Demon-Slaying Bone Blade at Shi-Gu’s shoulder.

The strike bit halfway into the shoulder. Enraged, Shi-Gu hurled aside the third brother and turned on Lu-Gu.

Shi-Gu’s body dripped with blood, his gaze ferocious, like a “savage beast.” Gone was the commanding, decisive elder brother.

This sight made Lu-Gu’s heart gradually grow cold.

He knew—his brother had truly “died.”

What stood before him was no longer his elder brother, but merely a “beast” wearing his brother’s skin.

Lu-Gu’s gaze hardened. He no longer held back.

The others dared not slack either, continuing their “rotating battle” siege.

After another half-hour, when everyone was nearly exhausted, Shi-Gu’s blood-and-flesh power was once again consumed.

Shi-Gu’s movements stopped.

This time, Shi-Gu truly stopped.

Lu-Gu no longer hesitated. After confirming Shi-Gu was not faking, he personally severed his brother’s four limbs with the Demon-Slaying Bone Blade.

Then, taking up a spear, he pierced his brother’s chest and dug out the still-warm heart.

Blood energy gone, limbs severed, heart removed—Shi-Gu’s life force was no more.

His meridians were all severed, no longer able to supply movement.

Only then did everyone finally feel a true sense of relief.

Shi-Gu, at late Golden Core, had been far too strong.

In this battle, nearly everyone was wounded.

The third brother of the Shugu Five Fiends, half-devoured by Shi-Gu, lost his life. Now the Shugu Five Fiends had become the Shugu Four Fiends.

Only Lu-Gu stood rooted, staring at the brother he had personally “dismembered,” whose heart he had dug out. His heart was filled with unspeakable sorrow.

Thus this senseless calamity finally came to an end.

With Shi-Gu dead, the remaining remnants of his tribe were no threat. They too were dealt with—limbs severed, hearts removed. A pit was dug, and their bodies buried together.

After all, they were of the same race. In death, they deserved rest in the earth.

The fallen general Shi-Gu was also buried.

Lu-Gu personally dug a great pit, entombed Shi-Gu within, and erected a stone stele inscribed:

“Grave of Shi-Gu, General of the Shugu Main Tribe.”

Ordinarily, the burial of a general would never be so simple.

Even among barbarians, a mausoleum would be built, a coffin laid, arrays arranged for gradual “corpse dissolution.”

By merit, Shi-Gu deserved burial in the ancestral tombs of the Shugu.

But with famine raging, none could afford such rites.

When alive, there is high and low, noble and humble, rich and poor. In death, all become but a handful of earth, scattered with the wind.

Shi-Gu, in his lifetime, was an extremely powerful, awe-inspiring general.

In Lu-Gu’s heart, his elder brother might have achieved great deeds, left a name in the history of the Great Wilderness.

But now—all was gone.

By his own hand, he had slain his brother, dismembered him, dug out his heart, ending it all.

…

Lu-Gu stood before Shi-Gu’s crude grave, overcome by an indescribable desolation.

Mo Hua stood silently behind him, watching it all.

Others might not understand, but he knew.

Lu-Gu, Shi-Gu, even all those who had perished in this battle—every single one of them—were all pawn on Martial Uncle’s chessboard.

Everyone… was Martial Uncle’s chess piece.

Yet they were utterly unaware.

Their fates were being toyed with, without them even realizing it.

They did not know where the Famine Calamity came from, did not know why they were doomed to die, did not know why such cannibalistic tragedies would occur, nor did they understand the true source of it all.

They had never even heard the two words: “Trickster Daoist.”

And so, within the lament of impermanence and the cruelty of fate, they were unwittingly played to their deaths—to the very end, never knowing why they had to die—to the very end, never realizing they were only chess pieces.

And not just chess pieces—merely one among countless pieces, so insignificant that Martial Uncle would never even spare it a glance…

(End of this Chapter)