Chapter 1241: White Bone Mausoleum Killing Trap

Chapter 1240: White Bone Mausoleum Killing Trap

White bones rose like a forest, tombs piled like mountains, heaped together in a pale and sinister sea.

This was the forbidden ground of the Shugu Tribe—the White Bone Mausoleum.

The Strange Daoist had sealed off the “Endgame Domain” with the Calamity of Famine, enclosing within it dozens of mountain realms, including the third-grade Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm.

But the White Bone Mausoleum lay deep within the heart of that realm and thus had escaped the famine’s shroud.

Now, the ghastly bone forest was drenched in blood.

Half-demonized and half-decayed, the Shugu Tribe’s Grand Chieftain lay impaled to the ground by Lu-Gu’s Demon-Slaying Bone Blade, run clean through the chest—barely clinging to life. Around him lay corpses strewn thick upon the ground.

Among the dead were his own trusted retainers, as well as Lu-Gu’s Golden Core generals and countless barbarian soldiers.

Blood flowed freely, staining the earth red.

Many bone trees had been shattered, and several outer tomb-steles lay reduced to rubble—clear signs of a brutal battle. Now, however, the fighting was over; everything had settled into silence.

The Grand Chieftain was defeated, his life ebbing away bit by bit.

This was Mo Hua’s second time seeing the Grand Chieftain of the Shugu Tribe.

This time, he stood much closer—close enough to clearly see the deep ravines of wrinkles carved across that face, and those turbid, hawk-like eyes. Eyes that must have contained countless stories—of hardship, filth, and cruelty.

But now, all those stories would perish along with their owner.

It would also be the last time Mo Hua ever saw him.

He was a chess player—and to play the game, pieces must be sacrificed. A cold, detached player does not care for the stories behind each piece.

The Grand Chieftain lifted his clouded eyes and looked at Mo Hua.

It was his second time seeing him, too.

But this time, he dared not dismiss the strange, half-shaman-looking youth standing before him.

Because during the battle, it had been he who had commanded Lu-Gu to strike.

It had been he who had ordered the Abyssal-Bone Heavy Armored Soldiers to move.

It had been he who had revealed his own weaknesses to Lu-Gu, allowing Lu-Gu to pierce through his bone-demon body with the enchanted Demon-Slaying Bone Blade, ending his life.

A Foundation Establishment cultivator… commanding ancestral heavy-armored troops.

A Foundation Establishment cultivator… ordering a late-stage Golden Core general.

And with Lu-Gu’s proud and defiant nature, he still obeyed.

Obeyed… a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

Even in his dulling mind, the Grand Chieftain understood.

He realized whose hand had truly sealed his fate.

He wanted to know—what was the identity of this youth, who had outwitted him, undone his life’s work, and turned all his schemes to dust?

But it was too late. His time was up.

Heaven had granted him no more fate.

Once a formidable hero in his youth, the Grand Chieftain was now withered—like a rotting tree, with only the fear of death left in him.

“Winner or loser… all my life I struggled, paid such a price… and in the end… it’s all for nothing…”

“In this life… what truly is Dao? And what is Immortality…”

With those words, the Grand Chieftain died, eyes still open.

A generation’s hero had fallen—but without glory.

He died not in conquest, but in tribal strife—slain by his own general’s hand. Not even a tragic final duel—age had weakened him, and time was merciless.

Lu-Gu, however, exhaled deeply. After slaying his hated foe, the long-festering grief and rage in his chest eased at last.

He could finally offer peace to his late brother’s spirit.

Now, only one thing remained…

Lu-Gu turned to Mo Hua. “Mister Wu, I must offer the Grand Chieftain’s heart to the ancestors. It is our tribe’s custom.”

Mo Hua didn’t know this custom, but he nodded. “Alright.”

Lu-Gu then split open the Grand Chieftain’s chest, tore out the still-warm heart, and, holding it in one hand, walked toward the depths of the White Bone Mausoleum.

Though he had called the tomb perilous, the deeper they went, the only thing that greeted them was endless whiteness—bones and deathly silence.

Lu-Gu held the Grand Chieftain’s heart.

Tie Shù-Gu and others carried the Grand Chieftain’s corpse.

They advanced until they reached a massive bone mausoleum.

Towering and solemn, it was sealed—burial place of many Shugu ancestors.

Lu-Gu halted and ordered Tie Shù-Gu to place the Grand Chieftain’s body upon the bone altar before them.

Then he set the heart into a white bone bowl atop the sacrificial altar.

Mo Hua frowned slightly. “This is…?”

Lu-Gu replied, “This is the custom of our tribe. Every Grand Chieftain, no matter his deeds or sins, must have his heart offered here in the ancestral tomb before burial. Only then can his soul rest.”

His voice dimmed. “Perhaps the Grand Chieftain came here knowing his time was short… wishing to die before his ancestors.”

Though Lu-Gu had hated him, his tone now carried a trace of respect.

Mo Hua nodded silently.

Lu-Gu then looked toward Tie Shù-Gu, who had remained silent. “Tie Shù-Gu, begin the sacrifice dance.”

Mo Hua blinked. “He dances too?”

Lu-Gu explained: “Tie Shù-Gu bears the name ‘Gu’, his ancestors served the Lord Barbarian God, specializing in the ritual dance of sacrifice.”

“Oh…” Mo Hua nodded.

No wonder Tie Shù-Gu danced so well—it was in his bloodline. Mo Hua’s choice had been spot-on.

Tie Shù-Gu glanced at Lu-Gu, then at Mo Hua. After a brief hesitation, his gaze hardened. He stepped before the great bone altar and began to dance.

The movements were strange—awkward, primitive. At first like a beast, then like a bird; by the end, a ferocious monster, face contorted, limbs twisted, every motion steeped in desperate savagery.

Mo Hua frowned. “What kind of dance is that? I’ve never seen it before.”

Lu-Gu didn’t answer.

Mo Hua’s frown deepened.

Soon, Tie Shù-Gu’s dance reached its end.

He drew a bone shard and, using his own blood, inscribed prayers to the ancestors upon it.

Then he dropped the shard into the bone bowl with the Grand Chieftain’s heart.

As the blood mingled, the writing dissolved—its message seemingly sent to the ancestors.

Tie Shù-Gu’s face held reverence and resolve as he swiftly drew a dagger… and plunged it into his own chest.

He collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

Dan-Zhu, the Vermilion Sparrow young master, paled. “A life sacrifice?!”

Chi Feng’s eyes widened in shock; he spun toward Lu-Gu—just in time to see him draw his Demon-Slaying Bone Blade, its savage edge flashing toward the unsuspecting Mo Hua!

“Presumptuous!”

Chi Feng’s hand snapped, spear in his grip, blocking the strike before Mo Hua.

A cold gleam flickered in Lu-Gu’s eyes—his blade’s light flared, crashing down upon the spear. The force shattered through, cutting deep into Chi Feng’s shoulder.

Chi Feng realized it instantly—Lu-Gu’s true target had never been Mo Hua.

He’d feigned a strike at Mo Hua, knowing Chi Feng would intercept—then poured in his Golden Core strength to wound him in that instant.

A precise, ruthless trap—crippling the mid-stage Golden Core warrior at the very start.

Bleeding, Chi Feng roared, “Lu-Gu! What are you doing?!”

Lu-Gu gave a cold snort, ignored him, and swung again at Mo Hua.

Dan-Zhu leapt to protect Mo Hua but was also driven back with a single slash, then surrounded by the Four Freaks of Shugu. Lu-Gu pressed on toward Mo Hua.

Around them, over two hundred Abyssal-Bone heavy-armored soldiers moved to surround the area, forming a tight encirclement in an attempt to defend Mo Hua.

But before they could form up, A-Da-Gu, who had supposedly surrendered, led the Shugu Tribe’s armored troops around and blocked them.

Vermilion Sparrow tribe and Shugu tribe soldiers—clad in the same heavy armor—clashed and tore into each other in brutal confusion.

With that, every ally who could aid Mo Hua was restrained.

Lu-Gu advanced again, forcing Mo Hua back with swift, brutal strikes. Mo Hua evaded again and again with his movement arts.

But it became clear—Lu-Gu wasn’t aiming to kill him outright. He was herding him—using his late-stage Golden Core power to drive Mo Hua step by step onto the bone altar.

When Mo Hua’s feet finally stilled upon the cold platform, Lu-Gu stopped.

Mo Hua stood calmly, looking around—at the traitorous A-Da-Gu, at Tie Shù-Gu’s lifeless body, then finally at Lu-Gu. His expression remained indifferent.

“This trap,” he asked softly, “you’ve planned it for quite some time, haven’t you?”

Lu-Gu nodded. “Yes.”

Mo Hua asked, “You wish to kill me?”

Lu-Gu’s face was cold. “You are a demon. A fiend who ensnares men’s hearts. My brother may have died by Can-Gu’s or the Grand Chieftain’s hand, but the one who truly made my brother’s spirit restless, unable to find peace… was you. I will not let a demon toy with my brother’s corpse.”

Mo Hua asked him: “Then why not just kill me directly?”

Lu-Gu replied flatly, “Because you are not a human. You cannot be killed by the methods of men.”

Mo Hua smiled faintly. “Oh? You won’t even try? What if you strike me down and I simply die?”

Lu-Gu shook his head.

It was obvious to Lu-Gu that Mo Hua was trying to provoke him—but Lu-Gu would not be goaded into recklessness by a demon’s taunts.

Mo Hua nodded faintly. “Then how do you plan to kill me?”

Lu-Gu’s tone grew solemn. “I have thought long on it. There is no way. I cannot kill you. You may only be at Foundation Establishment, but the demonic power within you is far too strong—unnatural. Even if I destroy your body, crush your skull, sever your limbs, I would only be erasing a shell. It may not truly kill you.”

“So… I can only ask our ancestors to kill you.”

Mo Hua’s eyes glimmered with interest. “You can’t kill me, but your ancestors can?”

Lu-Gu’s gaze grew sharp and reverent. “The Shugu Tribe’s Ancestors carried the inheritance of a Great Shaman Priest—one with unimaginable power. That inheritance could erase any existence from the root of causality itself. But later generations are ignorant; such arts are now lost. Therefore, to kill you, I can only awaken the ancestor and let him bestow a curse—to erase you, demon, from the source.”

Mo Hua’s expression grew heavier. “Your ancestors are dead, are they not? And yet you can still awaken them?”

Lu-Gu refused to answer—because the ritual had already begun.

After Tie Shù-Gu finished his sacrificial dance and offered up his life soul…

The forest of white bones began to tremble; blood-red mist spread through the air.

From deep within the vast tomb, something ancient began to stir awake.

An oppressive force filled the hearts of all present.

Suddenly, a terrifying curse spread through the surroundings.

Bone claws erupted from beneath Mo Hua’s feet, seizing his legs and limbs, locking him firmly in place.

Dan-Zhu’s face changed drastically. He shouted: “Teacher!” and activated his Vermilion Sparrow Mystic-Flame Feather Robe, his figure turning into flowing fire as he charged toward Mo Hua to rescue him.

But halfway there, Lu-Gu slashed him back with a single blade.

Blood trickled from Dan-Zhu’s mouth as he roared angrily, “Lu-Gu! You betrayed our teacher—your crime is unforgivable!”

Lu-Gu sneered. “Teacher? Don’t you see that your so-called teacher isn’t even human? Not even the royal shamans could possess such powers. Tell me, boy—are you truly that foolish, or just pretending?”

Dan-Zhu’s expression darkened.

Lu-Gu said coldly, “Or is it that you already suspected, but simply didn’t dare to admit it?”

Dan-Zhu gritted his teeth, as though no matter what Lu-Gu said, he would still rush to save Mo Hua.

Lu-Gu, harboring some pity for talent, didn’t wish to kill him. He only said icily,

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you—the sacrifice has begun, the ancestor is awakened. This altar is now a cursed ground. The bone claws reaching from the realm of death carry an ancient malediction. Any mortal who touches them will die instantly. If you care nothing for your life—or your tribe’s future—then go ahead and try.”

Dan-Zhu’s face was filled with anxious hesitation.

At that moment, Mo Hua, caught by the bone claws and unable to move, calmly glanced at Dan-Zhu and lightly shook his head—telling him not to come closer.

Dan-Zhu’s heart clenched tight.

Mo Hua’s lips curved into a faint, mysterious smile as he spoke gently:

“I am the Shaman of the Divine-Lord. My life belongs to the Divine-Lord. If I die here, it means the Divine-Lord willed it. But if the Divine-Lord does not will my death—no man, no curse, can kill me…”

Dan-Zhu froze, murmuring: “Teacher…”

Lu-Gu frowned deeply.

Then, from the depths of the White Bone Mausoleum, came a hideous, grating sound—like bones grinding against one another—accompanied by the creak of a coffin being opened.

Countless skeletal hands reached out from the earth, blooming like a field of bone flowers, layer upon layer, sealing Mo Hua’s body completely. A violet-red blood mist spread, engulfing the entire altar.

Mo Hua cast one last glance at the others before his face was buried under the claws, his body swallowed entirely by the purple haze.

Dan-Zhu and Chi Feng’s faces were filled with dread and panic.

Lu-Gu’s gaze grew colder, yet his brows furrowed ever tighter.

…

Deep within the White Bone Mausoleum, darkness reigned—utterly cut off from the world outside.

There, an ancient white bone coffin creaked open.

From within crawled a decayed figure—tall and imposing, but half-rotted away, half flesh and half bone, like a corpse walking out of the underworld. Its eyes had long since decayed, leaving it blind; it moved by instinct, guided only by faint memories of life.

It groped its way to the altar, lit the soul lamp, and muttered hoarsely:

“Don’t know… how many years… my foolish descendants… useless… ruined my great work… and now disturb this old ancestor… to kill on their behalf…”

“Even in death, I can’t have peace…”

“I must see… who dares… force this old ancestor… to rise again…”

(End of this Chapter)