Chapter 1239: All Black

Chapter 1238: All Black

Lu-Gu’s magic treasure was a Demon-Slaying Bone Blade.

Can-Gu’s magic treasure was a pair of Decapitation Crescent Axes.

The barbarian tribes’ inheritances were mostly simple—focused on body refinement, emphasizing physical strength and slaughter.

Two late stage–Golden Core cultivators, each wielding their treasures, clashed at close range in a mountain valley. With every strike of blade and axe, their Golden Core might condensed into tangible force, grinding earth and stone into dust, turning the sky dim and the land dark.

It was as if two humanoid beasts of war were wreaking havoc upon the world.

Lu-Gu was naturally stronger than Can-Gu, but not by much. And in such battles between late-stage –Golden Core experts—where transformations were endless—Lu-Gu did not have the absolute confidence to win.

After more than six hundred exchanges, the entire valley was deformed beyond recognition, yet neither could best the other.

Lu-Gu then recalled Mo Hua’s instructions:

“If you can’t take him down within six hundred moves, don’t drag it on—feign defeat and lure Can-Gu a hundred miles north to Falling Rock Mountain.”

Feigning defeat—those four words were humiliating to a warrior like Lu-Gu.

Out of pride as a general, he would normally never stoop to such a thing.

But he still felt guilty for not heeding Mo Hua’s previous advice, which had sparked this conflict in the first place.

And now that he truly couldn’t defeat Can-Gu in a short time, Lu-Gu was uncertain of what consequences might follow if he disobeyed Mo Hua again.

He gritted his teeth and intentionally exposed a flaw mid-battle. Can-Gu seized the chance, his axe biting deep into Lu-Gu’s back, drawing a gush of blood.

Lu-Gu cursed aloud and turned to flee.

Can-Gu froze for a moment, sensing something was off, yet couldn’t pinpoint what.

He knew Lu-Gu well—brute strength, vain pride, obsessed with face and victory—someone who would never stoop to “feigned defeat.”

A man like that couldn’t possibly pretend to lose. So seeing Lu-Gu injured and fleeing, Can-Gu only paused briefly before joy surged in his chest, and he shouted:

“Useless Lu-Gu! Defeated cur—don’t you dare run!”

Hearing that, Lu-Gu almost turned around to fight to the death—but he swallowed his fury and kept running.

He ignored the insults and didn’t look back.

Seeing that, Can-Gu grew even more certain that Lu-Gu had truly lost, and without hesitation, he urged his escape art, his body wreathed in ghostly white mist as he pursued.

Lu-Gu said nothing, just fled.

Before long, one chased and one fled, covering a hundred miles, until they reached Falling Rock Mountain.

The place was narrow and jagged, filled with dark rubble and shadow.

Seeing it, Can-Gu hesitated. “Did he flee here on purpose? Could there be an ambush?”

But then he scoffed to himself—he was a late stage–Golden Core expert, the peak of this Third-Rank Mountain Realm. What ambush could threaten him?

Lu-Gu’s faction had no other late stage–Golden Core cultivators.

And the mid-stage ones wouldn’t even be a threat.

Even so, caution pricked at Can-Gu’s instincts; he slowed his chase, a trace of retreat surfacing in his mind.

Lu-Gu turned and sneered. “Can-Gu, you wretch—if you don’t kill me today, I’ll peel your skin and grind your bones to dust next time!”

Those words only deepened Can-Gu’s hesitation.

Lu-Gu silently cursed, his wound still bleeding. He drew the Demon-Slaying Bone Blade and slashed at Can-Gu once more.

Every move was vicious—each strike meant to kill, to the death.

For a moment, Can-Gu was completely suppressed.

Just then, the ground beneath them suddenly heaved and erupted. Layers of stone exploded upward.

Can-Gu’s expression changed—he knew he’d been ambushed.

But as the blast washed over him, it barely stung. He sneered, “A second-grade Sacred Rune? Who do you think that can kill?”

In that instant, Lu-Gu poured all his might into his blade. The bone blade flared crimson.

High barbarian blade art: Demon-Slaying Bone Severing Strike.

The power wasn’t flashy—but every ounce of force was contained within the edge.

The might of the Golden Core wrapped tightly around the blade.

Swift to raise, swift to strike—swift to kill. That was the essence of the barbarians’ body-refinement arts: not for show, only for slaughter.

Can-Gu’s face went pale. “You want to die together?!”

He didn’t wish for mutual destruction, but Lu-Gu’s blade was already upon him.

He could only raise his Crescent Axes and unleash his own ultimate art.

The axes spun, twin blood-red moons glowing atop them as fierce winds screamed.

Their treasures collided head-on. The earth caved in, mountains crumbled to ash, even the rocks turned to powder.

Still, they were deadlocked.

Lu-Gu pressed harder, Can-Gu resisted fiercely.

As their powers swirled into a storm, Can-Gu suddenly felt a chill creep up behind him.

He didn’t dare turn—just caught a glimpse from the corner of his eye—

A massive hand rested upon his shoulder.

Can-Gu’s heart nearly stopped.

Who?!

Who could approach a late–Golden Core general like him without a single trace of aura—until now?!

He turned his head slightly—and saw a face he knew all too well.

A face once feared.

A man who had overshadowed him all his life.

But now that face was pale and dead, eyes sunken and black, glowing faintly with eerie blue light—terrifying to behold.

“Shi-Gu! You’re not dead?!”

Can-Gu’s soul nearly flew from his body. The thought of Shi-Gu standing right behind him, hand on his shoulder, drained all his courage and broke his focus.

Across from him, Lu-Gu seized the opening, roared fiercely, and swung his blade down.

Can-Gu, half-dead from fright, couldn’t fully dodge—he twisted aside just as the blood-colored edge cleaved through—and one arm was chopped clean off.

He howled like a wounded beast. At the same moment, Shi-Gu’s massive, cold hand tightened around his throat.

The grip wasn’t even strong—but the horror and panic made Can-Gu tremble uncontrollably.

Only now did he realize—this was a kill trap.

Shi-Gu had never died. He’d come back for revenge!

The two brothers, Lu-Gu and Shi-Gu, had conspired together to lure him into this valley and tear him apart!

No—! I’m going to die!

Can-Gu’s pupils contracted. A desperate will to survive surged through him—he detonated the White-Bone Barbarian Armor on his body.

The explosion blasted Lu-Gu and the corpse of Shi-Gu apart.

Seizing that instant, Can-Gu fled in utter panic, turning into a streak of white mist.

Lu-Gu immediately pursued.

But before leaving, he looked once more at his towering brother’s corpse—silent as a mountain, standing in the darkness like a demon god—those hollow black sockets glowing faintly blue.

Lu-Gu’s eyes flickered coldly, but he said nothing, only turned and chased after Can-Gu.

After the two left, time passed in the pitch-black night—until a faint blue figure slowly emerged.

It was Mo Hua.

He glanced toward the direction of the fleeing and pursuing figures, silently calculating the situation, then nodded slightly.

Then he turned to Shi-Gu’s corpse.

In the dark, Shi-Gu stood before Mo Hua, towering and menacing.

But Mo Hua knew—this “Shi-Gu” was merely an empty shell.

The Minor Spirit-Pivot Array could grant only limited control, and an extremely weak form of movement.

This Shi-Gu had no real combat power—only the fear his name inspired.

“If only you could truly fight…”

Mo Hua’s eyes gleamed faintly as he looked up at the corpse.

Meanwhile, Lu-Gu didn’t chase for long—he couldn’t.

Can-Gu was too fast, fleeing with no hesitation, knowing that if he slowed even slightly and was surrounded by Shi-Gu and Lu-Gu, he’d be doomed.

As for why only Lu-Gu pursued and Shi-Gu didn’t…

In the panic of fleeing for his life, Can-Gu had no time to think. Under the shadow of Shi-Gu’s lifetime prestige, all he could do was run.

Lu-Gu, remembering Mo Hua’s warning—“Don’t chase a desperate enemy”—eventually gave up the pursuit.

He had greater matters to handle.

In such a decisive clash, once General Can-Gu fled, his entire army naturally collapsed.

Many of Can-Gu’s barbarian warriors scattered, though plenty remained.

Lu-Gu declared that any who surrendered would not be punished or enslaved, nor turned into barbarian slaves. He spoke further—words both “merciful and moving.”

Those, of course, were Mo Hua’s teachings.

And this time, Lu-Gu dared not improvise.

As a general of the Shugu Tribe, his name carried more weight than Can-Gu’s. With such promises, most of Can-Gu’s defeated troops surrendered one after another.

Lu-Gu kept his word—no punishments, no killings. After reorganizing, he integrated these warriors under his own command.

While Lu-Gu restructured the barbarian troops, Mo Hua was preparing for something else—

The initial liberation of barbarian slaves in the Great Wilderness.

Such things could not be rushed. He would begin slowly—starting with the barbarian slaves surrendered from the Shugu Tribe.

Standing before them in his Shaman’s robes, Mo Hua spoke solemnly:

“You are sinners. You are slaves.”

“You have committed vile crimes—or your bloodline itself is tainted.”

“You are slaves, you are servants, living at the bottom of the Great Wilderness—unseen, uncared for, whether you live or die.”

“But now—the Divine-Lord has given you a chance for rebirth.”

“If you devote yourselves to the Divine-Lord, serve him faithfully—if, in the coming wars, you slay his enemies, or labor diligently for him—then the Divine-Lord shall pardon your sins and make you his servants.”

“As servants of the Divine-Lord, so long as you believe in him and obey his will—no one else shall have the right to condemn you. No tribesman may strike, abuse, or slay you at will.”

“You may be servants—but you are the servants of the Divine-Lord.”

“By upholding his name, you may walk upright and unashamed across the lands of the Great Wilderness.”

Those words sent a shockwave through the hearts of the barbarian slaves.

They had never imagined such a thing could happen—never imagined that Lord Shaman himself would grant them such a blessing.

They didn’t know whether his words were true or false, but still they all knelt and bowed toward Mo Hua, crying out:

“Thank you, Lord Shaman, for your grace!”

“Thank you, Divine-Lord, for your mercy!”

“Lord Shaman is wise and holy!”

“The Divine-Lord is eternal!”

Tens of thousands of voices roared like a mountain flood and tsunami, shaking the heavens and the earth.

Dan-Zhu’s heart trembled with excitement.

This was the very ideal Mo Hua had been instilling in them all along—and now, that vision had finally come to life.

Yet Lu-Gu, Chi-Feng, and several Shugu Tribe Golden Core cultivators frowned. They vaguely felt that something about these words of divine authority was not quite right—but they couldn’t immediately figure out what.

In this atmosphere, Mo Hua and Lu-Gu had already absorbed more than half of Can-Gu’s tribe and forces.

Lu-Gu’s army grew stronger.

Mo Hua’s influence and prestige soared higher.

Under the name of “Shaman,” he now directly or indirectly commanded more than three hundred thousand barbarian cultivators and warriors.

Across a vast region, Mo Hua had, in every meaningful sense, established the true authority and power of a Shaman.

The next step—was to march against the Great Chieftain of the Shugu Tribe.

Once that supreme ruler was slain and the remaining forces swallowed, the Shugu Tribe could be renamed entirely.

However, there was one irreconcilable problem in launching such a campaign.

Mo Hua’s entire power base relied heavily on Lu-Gu—and on the barbarian soldiers, cultivators, and slaves of the Shugu Tribe.

Most of them were Shugu people.

Having them fight other branches of their tribe for territory was one thing—tribal conflicts were common.

But to march against their Great Chieftain?

That would be blatant treason.

The Great Chieftain, acknowledged by the Shugu Ancestor Patriarch himself, was the tribe’s supreme leader—the very symbol of their people.

To “suppress” the Great Chieftain would be rebellion—betrayal of one’s clan and ancestors, an unforgivable crime.

Even the dullest Shugu warrior understood that much.

If they discovered that their goal was to overthrow the Great Chieftain, the entire army would collapse in an instant.

Lu-Gu’s heart burned with vengeance, yet he didn’t know what to do. With a grim expression, he went to consult Mo Hua.

Mo Hua took a calm sip of tea and asked,

“Have you ever heard of ‘Cleansing the Court of Evil Ministers’?”

“Cleansing the… court?”

Lu-Gu blinked in confusion—he had never heard the term.

Mo Hua explained,

“Our campaign isn’t to rebel against the Great Chieftain—it’s to eliminate Can-Gu.

Can-Gu, having been defeated, will surely flee with his followers to seek refuge with the Great Chieftain.

You’ll lay all blame upon Can-Gu. Say that the Great Chieftain is old and deceived by Can-Gu’s lies—that it was Can-Gu who harmed your brother. You’re simply aiding the Great Chieftain by removing a traitor.”

“Afterward, when you lead your troops into the main tribe and kill the Grand Chieftain, just claim that Can-Gu assassinated him, and you were grief-stricken beyond measure.”

“Then, you kill Can-Gu as well — to avenge the Grand Chieftain.”

“After that, I’ll have someone make a petition to recommend you as the next Grand Chieftain. After all, you killed Can-Gu and avenged the Grand Chieftain, and besides, you’re the strongest in the tribe.”

“This way, not only will you avenge your brother, but you’ll also become Grand Chieftain — all with perfect justification.”

Mo Hua spoke evenly, his tone calm and conversational.

Lu-Gu stood there frozen for a long time, unable to react.

“…But…” he frowned, “what if the Great Chieftain actually hands over Can-Gu to me and tells me to withdraw?”

Mo Hua shook his head.

“The Great Chieftain isn’t a fool. He knows the situation better than anyone—he won’t hand over Can-Gu and cut off his own arm.”

“And if he does hand him over?” Lu-Gu asked.

Mo Hua replied: “Then win Can-Gu over. Blame everything on the Great Chieftain. Promise him benefits and convince him to join you in killing the Chieftain instead. Having been betrayed, Can-Gu will be furious and likely to turn against him. Once the Great Chieftain is dead, you can kill Can-Gu afterward—and again, place all blame upon him.

The result remains the same.”

Mo Hua’s tone remained flat, as though he were describing the weather.

But Lu-Gu felt a chill crawl from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

He stared blankly at Mo Hua, realizing that perhaps the only white thing about him was his face.

(TN: Slander, absolute slander)

Everything else inside, his heart, his liver, even his blood—was pitch black.

“This man… must be a demon,”

Lu-Gu thought silently.

After all, anyone who could be this sinister… could hardly be human.

(End of this Chapter)