Chapter 1290: Straw Dog

Chapter 1289: Straw Dog

The awakened “Mister Tu,” with pitch-black eyes, swept his gaze around. He saw the trembling grand formation and his own blood-soaked yet slowly healing chest. His expression was utterly frigid.

A hoarse chorus—full of the voices of countless wronged souls, men and women, young and old—croaked out:

“Who… dares disturb my grand formation…”

The moment “Mister Tu” released his Divine-Sense to communicate with the Taotie Grand Formation, he immediately detected a “little thing” frantically fleeing toward the outer edge of the formation. He tried to control the array with his consciousness and seize the “little thing.”

But the instant his Divine-Sense moved, it sank like mud into the sea—no response at all.

“Mister Tu’s” expression narrowed slightly. “The formation… isn’t obeying?”

After a brief contemplation, his pupils grew deep. “No… it refuses to let me catch that little thing…”

“The Taotie Grand Formation is resisting. It’s protecting him…”

“This child… who is he…”

The darkness in his eyes became even more sinister.

At the same time, strands of Deceptive patterns flickered within his pupils. Before long, the flashing ceased. The depths of his eyes became as bottomless as an abyss.

From his lips came a soft murmur—only a name:

“The Great Wilderness’… Divine-Shaman.”

In that same instant, within the Taotie Grand Formation, Mo Hua felt his heart suddenly seize, every hair on his body standing on end. He stopped thinking entirely and pushed Flowing-Water Step to its limits, slapping on a Wind-Walking Talisman for good measure. Water-force and wind-force stacked together, drastically boosting his speed as he shot toward the edge of the formation.

Light of water and wind stretched into a long streak across the air—gone in a blink.

Fortunately, nothing obstructed him along the way.

Even the Taotie Grand Formation behaved unexpectedly ‘well-mannered.’ Some of the vein-like array lines even pulled aside, as if deliberately shielding Mo Hua.

Mo Hua had no idea how long he fled, but he finally escaped the range of the Taotie Grand Formation, passed through the land of demons, and rushed through the ghost-infested territory of the Wujiao Tribe.

The lingering aura of the Divine Dao still lingered, and not a single ghost or demon dared block him.

Just like that, Mo Hua burst out of the ancient forbidden ground of the Wujiao, then reached back and removed the Wujiao Dead-Eye. He recited the incantation taught to him by the Wujiao Great God, shutting the stone gate and sealing everything behind him within the forbidden ground.

Whether the seal actually held or not, Mo Hua had no idea. And frankly, he no longer cared.

“Divine-Shaman…”

Tie Shù-Gu saw Mo Hua emerge, and a flicker of relief crossed his face.

But then he noticed Mo Hua’s hurried posture—and on that usually solemn, calm face—an expression of grave tension. His heart sank. He realized that something inside that forbidden ground must have been terrifying even to this lawless Divine-Shaman.

“Divine-Shaman, inside there…” Tie Shù-Gu said in a low voice.

Mo Hua shook his head and simply ordered, “Seal this place. No one is allowed to enter. Otherwise… kill without mercy.” His tone was deadly serious.

Tie Shù-Gu stiffened and immediately responded, “Yes, Divine Shaman.”

Mo Hua turned back to look at the ancient Wujiao forbidden ground.

All traces of qi—whether Mister Tu’s, the Calamity-Famine Formation’s, or that cold and sinister strand of Deceptive thought—seemed completely shut within. Not a hint leaked out.

Yet Mo Hua’s heart still felt unbearably heavy. Not a shred of relief.

“Martial Uncle…”

He kept feeling that the distance between him and his Martial Uncle was growing closer and closer…

…

Great Wilderness, Wu-Feng Realm, Wujiao Peak.

Inside the hastily built Divine-Shaman Hall, Mo Hua sat alone at the top seat, frowning in deep thought.

The big tiger lay at the entrance, guarding the door.

Night thickened. Darkness weighed heavily outside, as if Deceptive thoughts seeped through the shadows.

But Mo Hua knew—there was nothing out there. No Deceptive thoughts. Everything was just his own imagination.

Though he had escaped the forbidden ground, his Martial Uncle’s shadow still loomed over his heart. The moment he saw darkness, his chest tightened with unease.

He activated his divinity, forcing himself to calm down, and reviewed everything he had seen earlier. His thoughts churned.

“Did Martial Uncle… notice me?”

Previously, Mo Hua had been fully occupied—launching the divine war, constructing the arrays, freeing the barbarian slaves, unifying the Great Wilderness, resolving internal tribal conflicts. His Divine-Sense had been pushed to exhaustion.

He had never seriously considered whether becoming the “Divine-Shaman,” stirring up so much chaos, might have been noticed by his Martial Uncle.

Or rather… in his subconscious, due to his deep wariness toward his Martial Uncle’s Deceptive Dao, he simply never dared think about it.

Because if his Martial Uncle truly acted… he had absolutely no way of resisting.

All his efforts would vanish overnight.

Now that he had truly encountered Mister Tu—and sensed that chilling strand of Deceptive thought—Mo Hua no longer harbored any illusions.

He was finally forced to consider the problem of his Martial Uncle directly.

“What has Martial Uncle actually arranged in the Great Wilderness?”

“How deep do his plans extend?”

“And his eyes… have they been watching the Great Wilderness all along?”

These were questions Mo Hua had pondered in silence many times, and he already had faint answers in his heart. But he still didn’t dare make a conclusion.

His Martial Uncle cultivated “Deception” as his path, and bore the title of “Dao.” His methods were unfathomable, his mind immeasurably deep.

What Mo Hua guessed might not be the truth at all—perhaps merely an illusion his Martial Uncle deliberately wanted him to believe.

Yet Mo Hua could not afford not to speculate.

At least, from current facts, Martial Uncle had not acted directly against him. Even the Great Wilderness game, Martial Uncle had only intervened indirectly.

Spreading famine, constructing the Taotie Grand Formation, causing disasters… all these were done through Mister Tu.

Martial Uncle himself had not moved directly.

Even the aura of Deception had not manifested in the Great Wilderness.

As for why…

Mo Hua guessed it was likely because the Hua Clan elders had employed measures to restrain Martial Uncle.

Mo Hua calmed his mind and pondered.

Martial Uncle’s schemes were certainly larger than he imagined.

With Martial Uncle’s scale, he could not focus solely on the Great Wilderness.

This place might only be a corner of his game; there are larger boards and more pieces elsewhere.

Martial Uncle’s true opponents are not a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator like him, but Grand Elders of the Dao Court, the Great Wilderness Royal Court, the Hua Clan, and other ancient lineages of Dao Province—ancestors at the Profound-Hollow-Void level. Martial Uncle is formidable, unfathomable, a peculiar demonic Daoist, but ultimately only Nascent Soul level, not Profound-Hollow-Void.

Even at his strength, splitting Deceptive thoughts and contending with the Dao Court and Dao Province’s ancient clans consumes vast Divine-Sense and computational power, and could even be suppressed by these elders in alliance.

Ancient clan elders are not passive either.

Therefore, in the Great Wilderness, Martial Uncle cannot devote his full attention at all times.

Mo Hua exhaled lightly.

This was a good thing.

While strong forces contend, he, a small “mudfish,” could catch a breath.

Then he pondered:

“What is the true purpose of these formations Martial Uncle set here? Is it really to nurture Dao-Sin Calamity?”

“Does Martial Uncle intend to nurture Dao-Sin Calamity to reach Profound-Hollow-Void? Is this really the Dao of Deception for his advancement?”

“What about the purpose of the famine formation?”

Mo Hua had thought the Taotie Grand Formation purely spread famine, but entering it revealed his understanding was too shallow.

This grand famine formation was far more than that.

Especially the ancient, terrifying “eye” hidden in the formation’s fissures.

“What is this eye?”

“Is it the formation core of the Taotie Grand Formation?”

“Is its true form an eye of the ferocious beast Taotie, or… some primordial essence of Taotie?”

“Is this really just a ‘famine’ formation?”

A grand formation composed purely of the Taotie Absolute Formation is so obscure and profound… what is its origin, and once completed, what purpose does it serve?” Mo Hua’s mind was instantly flooded with various guesses, yet he could not determine which, if any, were correct.

His experience was far from sufficient to explore the foundation of such a grand formation.

And then there was… Mister Tu.

Mo Hua looked at the small straw dog in his hand, still stained with Mister Tu’s blood.

His previous conjectures were mostly confirmed.

Mister Tu was indeed controlled by Martial Uncle, constructing the Taotie Grand Formation under his orders.

Now, Mister Tu had become a puppet of the Deception Dao.

But his state was unusual; he seemed to retain a trace of his original consciousness.

By all logic, this should have been impossible—no one could maintain rationality under Martial Uncle’s Dao-Heart Demonic seeds’ influence.

Yet Mister Tu was different.

Once the First Shaman Priest of the Great Wilderness Divine-Lord, the top henchman of the Evil God, he had spent a lifetime studying Divine Dao knowledge. Hence, under Martial Uncle’s control, retaining a bit of reason was not impossible.

But this reason is fragile, constantly threatened by the terrifying Deception thoughts.

Once reason collapses, Mister Tu would be completely “dead.”

So, he sought to save himself.

His method was the ancient causal inheritance of the Great Wilderness, an ancient secret of the Shugu Tribe:

The Great Wilderness Straw Dog Fate Art.

Mister Tu intended to transfer causality to escape Martial Uncle!

In other words, according to Mister Tu, transferring causality was the only way to resist Deceptive thoughts.

The straw dog in Mo Hua’s hand was the medium for this ancient causal technique.

This must have been secretly obtained by Mister Tu through painstaking efforts, hiding it from Martial Uncle.

But upon obtaining it, he realized he had overestimated himself.

He never had the chance to comprehend it.

The Deception thought in his mind would detect any prolonged practice of causal transfer, ruining all progress. Or perhaps he simply couldn’t master it.

Ancient inheritances of the Great Wilderness are extremely obscure and difficult to learn.

Especially advanced causal principles like causal transfer, which are not easy to comprehend.

Thus, in his last moment of desperation, Mister Tu handed the straw dog to Mo Hua.

And Mo Hua, in fact, had no choice either.

He had to master it.

Mo Hua had a premonition: one day, he might face the same predicament as Mister Tu.

He might again confront Martial Uncle.

Thus, this method of “causal transference” could save his life in terms of causality.

Or at least, buy him some time.

Moreover, if his reasoning about causal laws was correct, this technique might have even greater uses for him. Mo Hua’s gaze hardened, a glint of sword-light appearing in his eyes.

He discarded all distractions, focusing on the straw dog, beginning to study the secrets of the Great Wilderness Straw Dog Fate Technique.

The technique had no written records, no mental manuals, no insights—only this straw dog as the medium. It was an ancient sacrificial dog.

At first glance, Mo Hua found it ordinary.

But when he concentrated all his Divine-Sense and carefully observed it dozens of times, he finally discovered a clue. Outwardly, it was tied from greenish-yellow wild grass, worn and plain.

Yet at the causal level, Mo Hua could see that during its weaving, an extremely intricate and complex method incorporated the laws of causality.

Using straw as the medium and causality as the Dao, the two were fused to form the straw dog.

It was the fusion of grass lines and causal lines.

But that was all.

The deeper mysteries were entirely beyond Mo Hua’s perception.

Mo Hua’s gaze was cold as he pondered. After a moment of thought, he said: “Call Tie Shù-Gu.”

The Big Tiger at the door perked its ears, immediately got up, and shortly after, returned with the respectfully following Tie Shù-Gu.

Tie Shù-Gu saluted Mo Hua: “Lord Divine-Shaman.”

Mo Hua asked: “In the Great Wilderness, do you have a custom of weaving straw figures?”

Tie Shù-Gu was slightly stunned and asked, “Lord Divine-Shaman, you mean…”

Mo Hua said, “Sacrificial straw dogs.”

Tie Shù-Gu’s eyes flickered, as if understanding something. He lowered his head and cupped his hands respectfully: “Yes, there is.”

Mo Hua looked at Tie Shù-Gu.

Without waiting for further questions, Tie Shù-Gu slowly said:

“In the ancient Great Wilderness, the people were few. When offering sacrifices to Heaven and Earth, they would use plants to weave human or animal figures as offerings to the gods.”

“But that was an ancient practice. Later, as the population grew, selfishness increased, wars arose, and barbarian slaves multiplied. Over time, in order to demonstrate sincerity and strengthen faith, live humans began to be used as offerings to the gods.”

Mo Hua’s gaze flickered. “You mean, as the Great Wilderness population grew, civilization regressed, and people ceased to be regarded as human?”

The Shugu ancestor, clad in Tie Shù-Gu’s flesh-and-bone form, said calmly: “I have lived long and seen much. Cultivation techniques can be transmitted through generations, developed over lifetimes. But the human heart has always been the same—lost in desires, inevitably leading to slaughter, exploitation, and oppression.”

“Time may pass, history may advance, but the human heart does not. It will always struggle in desire, cycling endlessly in folly.” Tie Shù-Gu’s words seemed laden with deeper meaning.

Mo Hua’s expression darkened slightly, but he did not dwell on this issue and instead asked, “Do you know how to weave a sacrificial straw dog?”

Tie Shù-Gu nodded. “Yes. Back then… in order to offer sacrifices to Heaven and Earth, our Shugu Tribe studied the murals of the ancestors and imitated the techniques to weave some straw dogs…”

Mo Hua nodded. “Then weave one for me, so I can see.”

Tie Shù-Gu’s gaze deepened. “Yes…”