Chapter 1238: Branching of Deceptive-Algorithm

The main force led by Can-Gu was not easy to fight.

Although they had been defeated once by the Wu-Jiu Tribe, the remaining strength was still enormous.

There were 60,000 barbarian cultivators, 30,000 barbarian soldiers, and in addition the Abyssal-Bone heavy-armored troops left by the Shugu ancestors—more than 250 of them, even more than the heavy-armored troops in Lu-Gu’s main force.

It was clear that General Can-Gu’s status within the Shugu Tribe must be high.

Beyond that, the biggest problem was the barbarian slaves.

Lu-Gu had lost his territory because of famine and most of the barbarian slaves had scattered, so he only led his barbarian soldiers wandering about. Can-Gu was different: his tribal composition was relatively intact, and he still had the large number of barbarian slaves that a proper main force should possess.

Over two hundred thousand barbarian slaves.

These slaves might not be strong fighters, but their numbers were huge. In war they generally functioned as “cannon fodder,” placed up front to be sent to die, to some extent used as “living shields” to blunt enemy attacks.

While alive they were labor for the tribe.

In war they were cannon fodder.

Dead in war, they also saved food.

In a certain sense, they were “things” used to the fullest.

Therefore, the vast numbers of barbarian slaves—overlooked by many—were in fact the foundation of the whole Great Wilderness.

This battle was not unwinnable, but once it began it would mean large-scale “slaughter” of the slaves.

Many slaves would die; the Shugu Tribe’s barbarian cultivators and barbarian troops would not escape either—there would be heavy casualties across the board.

Mo Hua’s side would also suffer great losses in manpower.

That was not what Mo Hua wanted to see.

Although on the battlefield sword and blade are ruthless and life and death are at stake, the Great Wilderness’s conflicts were not mere straightforward battles — they were war and also a chessboard.

Mo Hua had to try to convert as many people as possible into his own pieces.

Too many dead or wounded meant losing a vast number of pieces.

Even if he won, he would have lost.

The only way was to capture the enemy leader first: either kill Can-Gu or force his collapse, and the rest of the Shugu Tribe would be easy to deal with.

But such a thing was easier said than done on a frontal battlefield.

Mo Hua shut himself in a small dark room and concentrated wholly on deduction.

In recent days, skirmishes of various scales had been constant during the march. Mo Hua’s ability to derive strategies using the “Heaven-Earth-Human” Three-Talents formation had become ever more proficient. With his Divine-Sense strengthened, his foundations were firmer and his calculating power had increased.

Even so, Mo Hua calculated for a very long time. His Divine-Sense was exhausted and still he could not find a clue.

This was a campaign involving tens of thousands of barbarian troops—the scale was incomparable to previous fights and far beyond the upper limit of Mo Hua’s derivative calculations.

His deceptive-calculation branching (splitting his divine-sense) could not fundamentally solve such a complex troop-line problem.

Mo Hua propped his chin on his hand and pondered for a long time, but still had no idea.

Yet the current campaign was crucial: it concerned the lives and deaths of vast numbers of barbarian slaves, the survival of elite forces, and his future machinations against the Shugu Tribe. Mo Hua’s brow furrowed.

At such a time he suddenly could not help thinking:

“If I were Senior Martial Uncle… what would he do?”

Senior Martial Uncle’s calculating power must be stronger than his. He could operate in the Great Wilderness and perhaps beyond… in Tōngxiān City, in the Qianxue Prefecture, throughout the nine provinces, possibly all at once.

So many “branches” required terrifying computing power.

Mo Hua did not know whether Senior Martial Uncle walked the path of Divine-Sense Enlightenment, but Senior Martial Uncle’s Divine-Sense was undoubtedly strong.

Mo Hua’s own Divine-Sense was also impressive.

On the Divine-Sense path he would not belittle himself.

Even if Senior Martial Uncle’s Divine-Sense was stronger than his within the same realm, it could not be a “cliff” of difference.

This kind of multi-line deceptive control, especially involving the battlefield—tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of barbarian troops clashing—was something that even if he rose to Nascent Soul he would find hair-raising and uncontrollable.

And Senior Martial Uncle, though only Nascent Soul, somehow spanned large prefectures, penetrated various forces, and influenced so many cultivators. How did he accomplish such vast and complex deceptive calculations?

Mo Hua recalled Senior Martial Uncle’s deeds and suddenly realized a problem:

Perhaps he had been thinking the problem too complicatedly.

Or rather, his branching deceptive calculations were too “clumsy.”

He had really believed before that the algorithm for branching deceptive-path needed to calculate person by person, but that idea was utterly wrong. Tens or hundreds of engagements might be manageable with some division.

But what about tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, or millions?

The number of cultivators in the realm could not even be counted in millions.

No one could split that many Divine-Sense branch-lines.

And actually, it was unnecessary to split so many branches; it was unnecessary to care about each individual’s thoughts and movements.

What mattered were each batch, each tier of people.

Group the same type of people onto the same branch-line, then deduce—this way the fewest deceptive lines produce the greatest control of the war’s trend. That was what Senior Martial Uncle had done.

In Tōngxiān City, he had not controlled too many people directly; only a single figure spread corruption and deceived others, propagating the evil to cultivate Dao-sins.

In the Lì-zhou (Lì Prefecture) City, Senior Martial Uncle appeared to “infect” and slaughter so many, but at root his origin node was only one. Mo Hua had followed that same “origin” path all along.

Qianxue Prefecture was probably the same.

Though Mo Hua hadn’t seen Senior Martial Uncle face to face, he could roughly guess that Senior Martial Uncle’s shadow hid in some dark place or within some person. Exactly where that “shadow” was, he had not yet figured out.

All of Senior Martial Uncle’s deeds were secretive and concise, not ostentatious—he did not manipulate so many deceptive thoughts.

He used “points” to link “lines” and drive a whole “plane.”

One avatar constituted a deceptive calculation line, which in turn drove the whole situation.

Mo Hua needed to learn the same.

A scale involving one hundred thousand people did not actually require calculating one hundred thousand people.

Instead he must learn to divide the forces into “lines,” then calculate each line separately.

Because on the battlefield, the movement of a class of troop lines is unified.

Within such a troop line, the actions of all barbarian soldiers are generally the same.

Learn to split causal lines—this allows using the least Divine-Sense to perform the greatest number of branching deceptive calculations, thus controlling larger campaigns. With that thought, Mo Hua’s mind suddenly cleared and he gained a deeper insight.

Sure enough, discover the problem yourself and try to solve it.

When you don’t know how to solve it, think of how someone stronger than you would do it, and then learn.

Mo Hua did not hesitate and immediately began the attempt he had just devised: using branching deceptive calculations to deduce the movements of a one-hundred-thousand strong campaign.

But as soon as he activated his Divine-Sense he stopped, brow tightening.

He realized another problem:

If he used the Dao-heart-seeding-demons method, Senior Martial Uncle might discover him.

What about the Heavenly-Secret Deceptive Algorithm?

The Heavenly Secret Deceptive Algorithm is also a legacy that Senior Martial Uncle unconsciously “taught” him. It is one of the most supreme Divine-Sense techniques. In this world, besides Senior Uncle, those who can use it are few and far between; perhaps, besides Martial Uncle, only Mo Hua can.

If Mo Hua used the Deceptive Algorithm, will Martial Uncle detect it too?

But… can he avoid using it?

Mo Hua thought for a moment and realized he couldn’t.

Dao-heart demon-seeding could be avoided—he could find other ways to guide others’ inner desires.

But the Heavenly-Secret Deceptive Algorithm could not.

There was no substitute for the Heavenly-Secret Deceptive Algorithm; Mo Hua could not invent anything comparable.

Without it, he simply could not calculate many things.

Most importantly, through long practice Mo Hua had used the Heavenly-Secret Derivative Algorithm and the Heavenly-Secret Deceptive Algorithm together so often that the two Divine-Thought techniques were largely interwoven, even fused, and hard to distinguish.

This had become an “instinct” formed by long-term deduction.

Sometimes Mo Hua could not tell whether he was using the Derivative Algorithm or the Deceptive Algorithm.

If he sealed off the Deceptive Algorithm, the Derivative Algorithm would have to be sealed too.

That would be like cutting off both arms—how could he still play chess with Senior Martial Uncle?

Mo Hua frowned and pondered for a long time and felt it could not be done.

He could not abandon the Heavenly-Secret method simply because he feared Senior Martial Uncle’s detection.

He sighed and could only hope Senior Martial Uncle would not discover him.

At least his Heavenly-Secret Deceptive Algorithm was used fused with the Derivative Algorithm; perhaps that would obscure its traces a little.

“Hopefully Master’s teaching of the Heavenly-Secret Derivative Algorithm can cover the deceptive methods and prevent Senior Martial Uncle from noticing my little moves…” Mo Hua silently thought.

Whatever the case, the work had to be done. Mo Hua no longer hesitated and began, by means of deceptive branching calculations, to deduce the changes of a one-hundred-thousand-strong war. He divided Can-Gu’s troop types into separate “lines.”

Cannon-fodder slaves, ordinary barbarian soldiers, elite barbarian armored troops, Abyssal-Bone heavy-armored troops, and so on… each was planned as one or several “troop lines.” Each troop line, treated as an independent causal line, was deduced using the Heavenly-Secret Derivative Algorithm to project its actions and changes.

He then linked all the troop lines together and used the Heavenly-Secret Deceptive Algorithm to perform multi-line composite deductions.

Thus forming a whole to control the changes of the entire situation and the turning points of victory and defeat.

On the vast sand table there was no visible change on the surface, but invisible causality unfolded in Mo Hua’s eyes, flowing and transforming. Mo Hua recorded all these changes to serve as the basis for troop deployment.

After two days of such deductions, Mo Hua had a firm grasp of the overall plan in his mind.

That very night, he summoned everyone and, over the great sand table, explained every detail of the troop movements — when each general should march, how many soldiers they should lead, where to meet the enemy, how strong the opposition would be, and how the tide of victory and defeat would change — leaving nothing out.

To those watching, it didn’t seem like he was arranging troops before battle. It was more like he was reviewing the battle after it had already ended.

Reviewing a war before it even started — that was enough to make anyone’s jaw drop.

Lu-Gu was likewise stunned for a long time.

Previously, without truly large-scale battles along the way, Mo Hua’s divinations of fortune and calamity were always brief — a few remarks at most.

But now facing a real large war, he finally understood what “knowing before the event” truly meant, what the terrifying “divine-revelation” looked like.

Mo Hua said calmly: “This time, in our battle with the Can-Gu Division forces, our focus is on defense and delay. The most crucial objective is not to annihilate their barbarian troops — but to defeat Can-Gu himself.”

“The Shugu Tribe fights under their generals’ command.”

“If the general Can-Gu dies or is defeated, the rest of his forces will naturally collapse.”

Everyone nodded in agreement.

“However…” Mo Hua frowned slightly. “Can-Gu’s strength is formidable. This battle may not go smoothly. If it drags on and we fail to achieve a quick victory, casualties on the other battlefronts will only grow worse…”

Dan-Zhu and the others all looked solemn.

Lu-Gu frowned and muttered, “Had I known this, during the negotiations I’d have struck first and killed that bastard Can-Gu — we wouldn’t be wasting so much effort now.”

Mo Hua looked at him and replied dryly: “Had you truly known that, and followed my instructions, this war might not have needed to happen at all.”

Lu-Gu was left speechless by Mo Hua’s counter-play — the yin and yang of Mo Hua’s words had sealed his mouth completely.

Then Mo Hua suddenly thought of something and asked: “How exactly did the negotiations fall apart? You mentioned your brother?”

Lu-Gu said, “Yes, I did.”

“What did you say?” Mo Hua pressed.

Lu-Gu shook his head. “Not much. I just mentioned it briefly, and Can-Gu’s attitude suddenly changed. A few more words were exchanged… then the fight broke out.”

Mo Hua’s expression turned peculiar.

He only mentioned it briefly, and the man’s attitude instantly changed? That shouldn’t have happened under normal circumstances.

Could it be that Can-Gu himself had a hand in Shi-Gu’s death? Or at least knew about it?

Mo Hua glanced at Lu-Gu again.

If that were the case, then this negotiation had been doomed from the start — Can-Gu was never going to yield.

But then… why would Can-Gu participate in Shi-Gu’s betrayal and murder?

Mo Hua thought about it briefly, and realized it wasn’t really a mystery at all.

Shi-Gu, in life, had been too strong — strong enough to make even the Great Chieftain wary. To Can-Gu, that was a rival he could never surpass.

That being so…

Mo Hua’s eyes glimmered with calculation, and a new plan slowly formed in his mind.

…

Three days later, the war began.

Nearly one hundred thousand barbarian soldiers clashed, turning the mountains and valleys into a vast sea of battle. The scene was grand and fierce, like raging rivers and storm-tossed clouds. Yet Dan-Zhu and the others could see, amid the chaos, that the overall tide of battle — though it appeared vast and disorderly — followed exactly the same lines Mo Hua had mapped out on his sand table.

In everyone’s hearts, awe surged for “Mister Wu” and the depth of his divine favor — to receive such precise revelation from the Divine-Lord Himself!

The battle continued to unfold.

The barbarian slaves under the Can-Gu Division were lured away by the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe’s forces and trapped at a narrow valley pass.

Lu-Gu’s Golden Core subordinates led their barbarian troops to engage Can-Gu’s warriors in the open wilderness.

But as both sides shared common roots, and the terrain was wide and open, they all still held back, unwilling to go for the kill too soon.

Meanwhile, both sides’ Abyssal-Bone heavy-armored soldiers were locked in fierce contest.

Mo Hua had placed all his heavy-armored troops under the command of the surrendered Abyssal-Bone captain — “A-Da-Gu.”

Over three hundred Abyssal-Bone heavy-armored soldiers clashed against Can-Gu’s two hundred — a clear advantage for Mo Hua’s side.

Yet, following Mo Hua’s orders, A-Da-Gu did not press for slaughter. The two sides remained in a deadlock.

Outside this relatively stable battlefield, however, in another mountain valley — the duel between Lu-Gu and Can-Gu was utterly brutal.

Both were generals. They had known each other, shared past enmity, and mutual dislike.

Moreover, the entire outcome of the war hinged largely upon their life and death.

Thus, once they began fighting, it was like thunder crashing against fire — violent and unyielding. Golden Core power swept across the valley, shattering stone and earth alike.

(End of this Chapter)