Chapter 1261: The Descent of the “God”

Chapter 1260: The Descent of the “God”

Compared to the towering physiques of the barbarian tribesmen, that figure looked far too frail, far too slender. Standing upon the grand altar, it appeared insignificant; yet its sudden appearance was so eerie that everyone was taken aback.

Especially the three High Shamans—Flame Shaman Yan Zhu, Azure Shaman Qing Zhu, and the Wujiao Black Vulture Elder.

They had collapsed from exhaustion, momentarily unable to move. Yet their eyes still turned, catching sight of that thin figure’s shamanic robe, and the fair, jade-like face beneath, delicate as water, handsome as a painting.

Yan Zhu gasped, “It’s you?!”

Mo Hua smiled faintly.

Yan Zhu’s heart surged like a raging tide. “How did you get up here? You’re only at Foundation Establishment, you—”

His mind was filled with shock and disbelief.

Even Qing Zhu and the elder Black Vulture could hardly believe their eyes.

This was the divine altar, wreathed in Vermilion Bird fire, a place even late Golden Core cultivators could not set foot upon, where even they, as High Shamans, had to act with utmost caution. Beneath the altar, Golden Core experts battled fiercely.

Outside, countless troops had surrounded the place.

How had this mere Foundation Establishment youth managed to break through all those layers of obstruction… and ascend the divine altar?

Moreover, he had somehow hidden from the perception of three High Shamans until now?!

A chill of unease rose in all three of their hearts.

Just then, Yan Zhu’s heart stirred. He quickly said, “Little… little brother…”

Mo Hua turned to look at him.

Yan Zhu forced a flattering smile. “Do you remember our agreement? You… you help me with one thing, and I’ll personally recommend you to the royal court. You’ll be formally titled as a shaman, recognized by all of the Great Wilderness! The tribes will bow before you.”

Mo Hua’s gaze flickered slightly, as if tempted.

Seeing this, Yan Zhu hurriedly added, “Now… help me place my divine token onto the tray beneath the Vermilion Fire Tree…”

“This is a holy act of the Divine Dao! Once the Luminous Flame-Lord descends, you shall receive boundless blessings!”

Hearing that, Mo Hua instinctively stepped forward toward the Luminous flame Spirit Crystal Gem lying on the ground.

Yan Zhu’s face brightened with delight.

Qing Zhu and the elder Black Vulture’s expressions changed drastically, but though they panicked, they could do nothing.

Just a few steps later, Mo Hua reached the Luminous flame Spirit Crystal. He bent down, picked up the precious gem, examined it carefully, then quietly slipped it into his storage bag.

And that was that.

Yan Zhu’s eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

He almost spat blood.

Before the watching gods, atop an ancient divine altar, he had stolen a Divine Dao offering in broad daylight?! Not a shred of shame left?!

“You—!” Yan Zhu was so furious he could barely speak.

Having pocketed the crystal, Mo Hua then walked toward the lock of Qiuqiu Silk.

Qing Zhu’s face paled. “Little… friend, that is a lady’s hair, a token of the Qiuqiu Goddess. For a young man, it’s not proper to—”

But Mo Hua had already bent down, his pale hand picking up the delicate strand.

Qing Zhu bit her red lips, her eyes filling with sultry allure as her voice turned soft and trembling, dripping with charm. “Young friend… if you offer that silk to the altar, this humble one will allow you… to do as you please. The Qiuqiu Goddess’s blessing shall grant you pleasures beyond mortal comprehension, bliss enough to make phoenixes and dragons weep.”

Mo Hua turned and looked at her.

Their eyes met.

Qing Zhu’s gaze was liquid temptation.

Mo Hua’s eyes were pure, clear, untouched by dust.

He simply looked at her—then, without a word, tucked the Qiuqiu Silk into his storage bag as well, his heart utterly unmoved.

Under that crystal-clear gaze, the allure in Qing Zhu’s eyes faded, replaced by a sudden, shameful sense of inferiority. Her heart trembled in shock and fear.

What kind of person… is this…?

After pocketing the silk, Mo Hua turned to the last divine token…

The Vulture’s Eye.

It had been gouged from the elder Black Vulture’s socket, still dripping with dark blood.

This was the key to summoning the Vulture God.

At that moment, the elder could no longer afford to ponder Mo Hua’s origins. His hoarse voice rasped, “Friend, wait… wait! The Vulture feeds on rot! Its Dead-Eye differs from the other divine tokens—it carries death and decay! Any not of the Vulture’s path, not sustained daily by carrion, will have their spirit polluted, their Dao defiled if they carry it! You mustn’t… friend… you—”

His earnest plea… seemed to work.

Mo Hua picked up the Vulture’s Eye, gazed at it in silence, and did not put it away.

The elder froze, then his deep eyes glinted as he said gravely, “Friend… would you place the Dead-Eye upon the Vermilion altar for me? Such grace I would repay with my very life…”

Mo Hua hesitated briefly, then actually carried the Vulture’s Eye toward the golden tree beneath the Vermilion Bird statue.

A ripple of collective shock spread through the hall.

Outside the altar, every barbarian soldier—from the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, the Bifang Tribe, the Flamewing Tribe, the Fireshadow Tribe, and even the Vulture Tribe—was baffled.

Those who followed Mo Hua, Dan-Zhu, Chi Feng, and the Shugu Tribe cultivators, stared in confusion.

Whose side was their shaman lord on?

Whose god did he truly serve?

Was he really the shaman sent by the Divine-Lord to save the Great Wilderness?

In that instant, even Mo Hua’s believers began to waver.

Dan-Zhu’s eyes flickered anxiously as he muttered, “Teacher…”

Meanwhile, in the plaza below, the allied chieftains—Dan Lie, Flamewing, and others—were livid.

“That fake shaman… a traitor?!”

“He’s a Vulture spy?!”

Had he infiltrated the tribes, only to summon the Vulture God at the final moment?!

Shock and rage filled their hearts.

The Vulture Tribe generals glanced at one another in confusion.

Even the Vulture Young Lord frowned—he didn’t remember planting such a terrifying “mole” among the Vermilion tribes…

Upon the altar, Yan Zhu roared, “You brat! What are you doing?! Are you insane?!”

Qing Zhu’s face was deathly pale.

But Mo Hua ignored them, step by step, walking straight to the golden tree beneath the Vermilion Bird statue.

He lifted his gaze, looking upon the flowing-fire statue and the ancient throne below it, wreathed in Vermilion blood. His eyes narrowed slightly.

Then he lowered his head to the golden offering tray before him…

The “fuse” of the descent ritual.

All it needed now… was a spark.

Under countless eyes, Mo Hua slowly raised his hand, and placed the Vulture’s Eye upon the tray.

Instantly, a freezing, corpse-tainted aura spread across the altar.

“You fool! Stop!”

But none could stop him.

Yan Zhu’s face turned ashen.

Terror crept into Qing Zhu’s eyes.

All the allied chieftains felt despair crash upon them like the sea. Their limbs went numb.

Only the Black Vulture elder ’s manic laughter echoed above the altar.

“Hahahaha! It’s done! It’s done!”

“My life’s wish… fulfilled!”

“The great god of the Vulture Tribe descends upon Vermilion Mountain! He shall seize dominion over the faith of the Wilderness! Command the wills of all living beings! And I—his most loyal servant—shall be rewarded with immortality in the sea of decay!”

As his mad laughter filled the air, The Vulture’s Eye ignited, turning into a black flame.

The flame of death and rot spread along the golden tree, climbing higher and higher, until it reached the beak of the Vermilion Bird statue.

The statue held a golden ring in its mouth.

The corrupted flame licked it, and the ring flared with divine radiance, linking the mortal altar to the distant realm of the gods.

The Vermilion Bird’s “fire-bearing” became a beacon.

A beacon to guide the Divine Dao’s descent.

The black flame surged skyward, forming an invisible divine barrier that engulfed all of Vermilion Mountain.

Dark clouds gathered. The wind grew icy.

A stench of decay spread across heaven and earth.

Black feathers drifted down from the sky, mingled with blood rain and rotting flesh.

Yet these were not true flesh and blood, merely the materialized thoughts of a god.

At the heart of the deathly flame… A vast, black, rotted wing slowly emerged from the burning void.

It was the true form of the Vulture God.

This was the real—“Divine Descent.”

At the moment of descent, the god’s power blurred the boundary between illusion and reality.

Even mortals who could not normally perceive divinity could now witness this terrifying miracle with their naked eyes.

This was the miracle of a metaphysical god, manifested upon the mortal world.

Every warrior of the Vulture Tribe was filled with ecstatic fervor.

Those of the allied tribes—even the mighty chieftains and high shamans—felt nothing but endless fear.

They had fought, resisted, struggled—yet could only watch helplessly.

They could only watch the “Doomsday” descend… and await judgment from an alien god.

Their bodies might be strong, their cultivation vast, their Dao profound…

But all of that… was power of the lower realm, mere “form below.”

Before the truly transcendent terror—the power above form—they felt as small as ants, utterly powerless.

Before the descent of a god, one could still resist.

But once begun, no force in the world could reverse it.

Thus, in the dead silence between heaven and earth, before the eyes of all beings…

A colossal, half-human, half-divine figure, bearing black wings and the head of a dead vulture, slowly descended from the vortex of deathly fire.

The Vulture God’s Descent… was complete.

The great deity of the Vulture Tribe had descended upon Vermilion Mountain—using the Vermilion Bird’s sacred fire as its guide, and the ancient altar as its vessel.

In that instant, the aura of decay swept across the land like a tidal wave.

Heaven and earth changed color.

Every warrior of the Vulture Tribe fell to their knees, bowing in worship, crying out:

“Great Vulture God—immortal and eternal!”

Even the proud Young Lord of the Wujiao Tribe, bearer of the Dragon Mark, was overwhelmed by the god’s majesty and knelt, paying homage to the ancestral deity of his clan.

And not just the Wujiao Tribe—some of the shamans of Vermilion Bird Mountain also began to tremble in terror, falling to their knees.

The Vulture Deity was not their faith.

But before such divine might, they could not help but bow.

A god could not be offended.

A god demanded faith.

One by one, more and more of the Vermilion Bird tribesmen fell to their knees—like a collapsing black cloud, a dark sea of submission.

The entire Vermilion Bird Mountain—every living being—lowered their heads in reverence.

Atop the altar, feeling the surge of “faith,” the newly descended Vulture Deity opened his eyes.

In those eyes shone supreme authority—and utter indifference toward life and death.

Around Him, the fabric of reality twisted under divine power—half-real, half-dream.

The altar had become a true divine domain.

And within that dreamlike realm stood but reflections of Divine Consciousness.

At that moment, three figures still stood on the altar—no longer of flesh and blood, but of divine sense.

Yan-Zhu’s divine form had grown twice his usual height, his body covered in blazing runes, like a true Flame Demon.

Qing-Zhu had sprouted two white fox tails, his features now eerily charming and vulpine.

The old Black Vulture Elder had become half-man, half-Vulture.

These were their Divine-Sense forms—manifestations granted to them by the gods they worshiped.

Now, the Black Vulture Elder knelt.

Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu, already exhausted from the earlier battle, had dim and flickering divine forms. They could only struggle with all their might to withstand the Vulture Deity’s terrifying presence.

Out of pride as shamans—and faith in their own deities—they refused to kneel.

But before a god, none were permitted to stand.

The Vulture Deity’s black pupils narrowed. A wave of pressure—violent as a stormy sea—exploded outward, crushing down upon the entire Vermilion Bird Mountain Range.

This was divine will—true godly authority unleashed.

Mortals, who cultivated only flesh and spirit, could not possibly endure it.

All across the Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm, every barbarian warrior—no matter tribe, birth, realm, or strength—was forced to their knees by divine might.

Even Dan-Lie and the other Golden Core chieftains, faces twisted with humiliation, had no choice but to kneel half-bowed.

Beneath the altar, the only one still truly standing… was Dan-Zhu.

His heart blazed crimson like the Vermilion Bird itself, and the words of Mo Hua echoed in his ears, fortifying his Dao Heart.

Even so, his back was forced to bend, his head could not rise.

Aside from Dan-Zhu, atop the altar the Black Vulture Elder had already prostrated himself—gladly, devoutly.

Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu, however, were wracked with agony under divine oppression.

Their instincts screamed to kneel and submit…

Yet the faith that had sustained them through countless years rebelled fiercely against such betrayal.

Still, no matter how they resisted, their knees continued to bend, their bodies sinking inch by inch.

Shamans, after all—were still human.

And humans… could not defy a god.

At that moment, a hoarse, death-laden voice echoed beside Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu’s ears:

“Before My presence… why do you not kneel?”

It was the voice of the Great Vulture Deity.

The divine speech of a ture deity.

Terror surged within Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu’s hearts—but in the next instant, they realized the god’s words were not meant for them.

For the Vulture Deity’s gaze was not upon them at all…

Yan Zhu and Qing Zhu’s hearts jolted in terror, an instinctive dread surging through them—but in the next instant, they realized something was off. That divine rebuke wasn’t aimed at them. Forcing their heads up, they saw that the Vulture God wasn’t even looking their way.

The Vulture God’s gaze was fixed upon a child standing before Him.

Yan Zhu’s pupils contracted sharply. When he focused his eyes, his heart leapt in shock—he recognized the figure.

That was… the boy who had been posing as a Shaman!

The false shaman!

Originally a youth—but now appearing even younger, a child of barely ten, delicate and jade-carved, lips red as cinnabar. Aside from his striking looks, there was nothing remarkable about him.

Yet this “unremarkable” child was the only being in the entire mountain realm who could still stand tall before the Vulture God—spine straight, unbowed.

And more than that, he dared to speak.

“Kneel?”

A crisp, cold snort rang out.

Mo Hua said: “You mangy-feathered crow… you think you’re worthy?”

The words crashed like thunder from the Ninth Heaven. Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu’s faces drained of color; their minds went numb with shock.

Never in their lives had they imagined—someone would dare insult a god to his face.

He…

Yan-Zhu and Qing-Zhu were struck speechless, their scalps tingling in disbelief.

The kneeling Black Vulture Elder’s face twisted with fury and horror.

But none were more enraged than the Vulture Deity Himself.

The stench of decay boiled within His divine body. His wrath distorted space itself.

Every living being on Vermilion Bird Mountain felt the wrath of this ancient deity—and trembled in mortal terror.

And within that suffocating fear blanketing heaven and earth… A clear yet commanding voice rang out:

“I am the Shaman of the Divine-Lord!”

“My power—comes from the Divine-Lord!”

“Today, in the name of the Shaman, I summon the Divine-Lord to descend…

to strike down all false gods and heretical deities in this world!”

That righteous voice resounded through heaven and earth.

All turned their gaze upward.

And upon the altar, that “ordinary child” erupted in brilliance, his body igniting like a divine spark.

Radiance burst forth—ten thousand rays of gold, holy and blinding—like the rising sun, dispelling all darkness, turning night to day, bathing the mountains and earth in endless light.

This… was the true “Descent of a God.”

In that instant, every soul upon Vermilion Bird Mountain felt they beheld a real god…

The fabled Divine-Lord had descended upon the mortal world.

(End of this Chapter)