Chapter 1331: Divine-Favored

Chapter 1330: Divine-Favored

What followed went relatively smoothly.

They were all Heavenly Prodigies whose consciences had not yet withered. Having witnessed suffering with their own eyes, having their hearts pierced by those poor, cruel, and ugly scenes, and having directly felt the bitterness of the mortal world, there was no need for Mo Hua to say much—they already knew what had to be done.

As Heavenly Prodigies, they possessed excellent spiritual roots, outstanding talent, sharp minds, and a thorough understanding of the inner workings of great clans. Added to that were their lofty statuses, resounding reputations, and the fact that they were acting in unity and with deliberation.

Thus, the matter of rescuing the barbarian slaves received tremendous support.

Judged by orthodox rules, this matter did indeed violate the Dao Court’s standards.

The Dao Court had never permitted the trafficking of cultivators or the raising of barbarian slaves.

Moreover, these were “lowly” barbarian slaves, along with some elderly, weak, sick, and disabled individuals who were even worse off than the slaves themselves. On the surface, their value was indeed limited.

In the wars of the Great Wilderness, territory, inheritances, and resources were all more important than these barbarian slaves.

The methods Mo Hua employed were also rather “gentle.”

He did not act under the banner of “liberating barbarian slaves,” but instead under the banner of the Dao Court’s righteous path, citing that “Heaven cherishes life” and that one must not slaughter living beings. On this basis, he gathered these barbarian slaves together and placed them under protection.

The barbarian slaves were still there—not stolen, not seized—merely “enclosed” and kept.

It was equivalent to this piece of meat being temporarily “sealed away,” not truly made inaccessible.

Thus, the vast majority of great-clan elders tacitly allowed the situation to develop.

However, not everyone among the great clans was so agreeable.

Some elders with great authority, great ambition, single-minded devotion to profit, and a thirst for meritorious achievements were not so easily fooled.

After all, this was meat being snatched directly from their mouths. They were not going to let it go.

What was more, in the eyes of these people, barbarian slaves actually had a very “broad” range of uses.

Some high-ranking elders of the great clans secretly dispatched people to investigate, trying to uncover the full story.

They wanted to know exactly who was competing with them for these people.

And at the very core of this matter was, naturally, Mo Hua.

From beginning to end, it was Mo Hua who set up the situation, gathered everyone at the table, proposed the initiative, and pushed its execution.

On the surface, Mo Hua was without question the “instigator.”

If these elders wanted to investigate, there was no one else they could investigate but Mo Hua.

Yet once they did, everyone fell silent.

On the Dao Court’s side, Mo Hua’s case file had been sealed—not a single word could be found. That alone showed he was no ordinary figure.

Still, some information about Mo Hua had already leaked out, and traces of his activities in the Great Wilderness could be inquired into.

Mo Hua, Little Senior Brother of the Great Void Sect, Formation Dao Champion in Qianxue, number one in Sword Debate Tournament.

During the Great Wilderness expedition, he had connections with the Huá Clan and with the Zhuge Clan.

Going further, he was directly connected to True-Person Huá and True-Person Zhuge of the Imperial Celestial Bureau, both figures related to Feathered Ascension.

Not ordinary connections at all… according to rumors among some clan disciples, this Mo Hua was someone who could sit beside True-Person Huá and True-Person Zhuge, sharing the same table for meals and tea.

Even the Huá Clan’s eldest young lady was said to have an unclear relationship with him.

Bai Zisheng, the Peerless Prodigy of the Sixth-Rank Ancestral Dragon Bai Clan, had been defeated by him, trampled underfoot, and publicly humiliated.

Among the many Heavenly Prodigies, he was an “overlord”-like existence, with no one daring to resist him.

The Huá Clan, the Zhuge Clan, and the Great Void Sect—three great backgrounds intertwined…

Drinking tea with Feathered Ascension figures, entangled with the Huá Clan’s eldest young lady, stepping on a Bai Clan prodigy, commanding the Heavenly Prodigies of the Qianxue Prefecture sects.

When all these matters were linked together, the name Mo Hua exuded a terrifying, almost “taboo” aura.

It was as if the words “background reaching the heavens, unfathomable depth” were written plainly upon him.

With such a horrifying background, who would dare continue investigating?

Such a figure opening his mouth to save barbarian slaves, how could it possibly be simple?

Who knew whose will this was carrying out, or which colossal powers were laying plans behind the scenes?

The waters within could be terrifyingly deep. Who would dare casually wade in and test their depth?

If one provoked someone who should not be provoked, who could bear the responsibility?

By the time the investigation reached this point, all great-clan elders with real authority on the royal-court frontlines unanimously chose silence.

They were elders of great clans, representing the interests of great clans.

But in the end, they were only elders, not even Feathered Ascension. There were many great figures they could not afford to offend.

Moreover, precisely because they were elders of great clans and had seen enough of the world, they knew just how high the heavens truly were.

One had to harbor awe and not pry recklessly, lest one alarm those above the heavens.

They were merely lowly barbarian slaves. Before the “unknowable” and “indescribable” Mo Hua, carving off this little bit of meat was nothing worth mentioning.

Thus, the matter progressed ever more smoothly.

In the Royal Capital region, outside Little Black Tortoise Mountain Realm, several adjacent minor mountain realms were unified by Mo Hua and designated as the “Royal Slave Mountain Realm,” to serve as temporary shelter for barbarian slaves from various tribes of the Royal Capital region who had been displaced by war.

Within the mountain realm, simple rules set by Mo Hua were observed: no human trafficking, no killing barbarian cultivators.

Cultivators of the Nine Provinces, barring special circumstances, were also forbidden from entering the Royal Slave Mountain Realm.

Amid the chaos of war, Mo Hua had forcibly carved out such a “safe zone.”

…

At this moment, within the Royal Slave Mountain Realm.

Groups of barbarian slaves were escorted by clan cultivators and Dao soldiers, pouring into the mountain realm.

Those displaced elderly, weak, sick, and disabled were also confined together.

In this way, whether barbarian slaves or barbarian cultivators, they at least had a place to settle, in the form of a “great tribe.”

Mo Hua sat atop a nearby sacrificial tower, silently observing all of this.

In barbarian tribes, the tallest building was always reserved for the tribal gods, used for sacrifices and offerings to the deities.

Mo Hua’s divinity, though shattered once and later sealed by the Huá Clan ancestor’s “The Heart-Tugging, Emotion-Arousing, Desire-Falling Golden Needle,” still occasionally revealed a trace of “divine” habit: he liked sitting near high altars, looking down from above at the living beings of the world.

He liked it… but someone else did not.

Behind Mo Hua, the young barbarian slave kept his head lowered in humility, yet when his gaze occasionally turned toward Mo Hua, a flicker of nameless anger would flash through his eyes.

It seemed as though Mo Hua had profaned some sort of status that belonged to him.

Mo Hua, however, appeared utterly unconcerned. He merely gazed at the clustered barbarian slaves and elderly, weak barbarian cultivators below the tower, deep in thought.

Upon the sacrificial tower, there were only Mo Hua and that barbarian slave youth.

After an unknown amount of time, Mo Hua suddenly broke the silence and asked, “What is your name?”

The barbarian slave youth was startled. Realizing Mo Hua was asking him, he hurriedly lowered his gaze and said, “I am a lowly slave. I have no name.”

Mo Hua shook his head.

“People aren’t born slaves. You had parents, so you must have had a name.”

The youth hesitated, then slowly said, “My name is… Huai-Nu.”

“Huai-Nu? Which Huai?” Mo Hua asked.

The youth half-knelt, scooped up a handful of yellow sand, and wrote the character ‘櫰’ on the ground.

(TN: For those who are lazy to search (like me), 櫰 (huái / guī) is a rarely used, classical term that primarily refers to a type of tree. What the heck am I doing with a headache. )

Mo Hua asked, “Why were you named with the character ‘Nu’ (‘slave’) from birth?”

The youth replied softly,

“Born lowly, life as cheap as grass. With the tribe doomed to extinction, fate decreed I would become a slave. So my parents gave me the character ‘Nu’ from the start.”

Mo Hua’s gaze dimmed slightly. His pale fingers tapped the tabletop. After a moment, his eyes shifted.

“That’s not right…”

The barbarian youth named Huai-Nu was stunned.

Mo Hua said, “‘Huai’—that’s your tribe’s name, isn’t it?”

The youth nodded.

“No,” Mo Hua still shook his head. “That isn’t your tribe’s name. More precisely, it should be the name of the barbarian god your tribe worships.”

The youth’s expression changed. He lowered his head and said respectfully,

“In the customs of the Great Wilderness, the name of the barbarian god is sometimes the same as the tribe’s name…”

Mo Hua neither confirmed nor denied it, only saying slowly,

“Your tribe’s barbarian god is named ‘Huai,’ and your name is ‘Huai-Nu’…”

The youth lowered his head further, his face turning pale.

Mo Hua continued tapping the table.

“I’ve studied the customs of the Great Wilderness. Generally speaking, the character ‘Nu’ is indeed demeaning, a symbol of lowliness. But when this character is linked to a god, its meaning changes.”

“Huai-Nu, Huai-Nu… a slave of the God Huai. That means you are a child who carries the blessing of your tribe’s barbarian god. One could even say you are qualified to cultivate the path of a Shaman-Priest…”

Mo Hua’s voice was light, but Huai-Nu’s back was already soaked with cold sweat. He bent his waist even lower and said,

“Master, you overestimate me. I… am only a lowly slave. How could I dare to aspire to become a Shaman-Priest…”

Mo Hua shook his head.

“For an ordinary child, that would indeed be impossible, even with the name ‘Huai-Nu.’”

“But you are different. You…”

Mo Hua looked at the barbarian youth and said, word by word,

“The barbarian god of your tribe is hiding within your Sea of Consciousness, isn’t it…”

“You are god-favored…”

Before he could finish speaking, the atmosphere within the tower suddenly changed, turning gloomy and oppressive.

A ferocious, dark-green Divine-Sense aura burst forth like poisonous vines, spreading wildly in all directions.

The barbarian youth raised his head to look at Mo Hua. His appearance had completely changed, twisted and violent. Veins like creeping vines crawled across his face, venom flowing between them, a foul aura permeating his entire being.

This was no longer a human face, but something closer to a demonic beast.

He stared at Mo Hua. Pale silver and inky green intertwined in his eyes, filled with cold indifference and intense hatred born of tribal annihilation.

“You’re courting death!”

The barbarian youth’s body swelled, transforming like a wood-element demon beast. Using all four limbs, he lunged savagely toward Mo Hua.

At the same time, an intense aura of barbarian divine power coiled around his body.

This Divine-Sense overflowed from his eyes, steeped in a paralyzing toxin capable of numbing Divine-Sense itself. Any ordinary person who touched it would suffer severe injury to their consciousness.

Such a grotesque transformation, such a violent killing strike—even Mo Hua was a little surprised.

He lightly pointed a finger.

A Water Prison condensed out of thin air, locking the youth’s limbs like chains.

Six water-formed spiritual restraints slammed him to the ground.

The barbarian youth fell like a beast suddenly bound, struggling wildly, yet unable to move no matter how hard he tried.

He abruptly looked up at Mo Hua, the malice in his eyes growing deeper, the black-green hue thickening.

A more vicious surge of divine power erupted from his eyes, rushing straight toward Mo Hua’s gaze.

Mo Hua merely glanced at him indifferently.

That casual look pierced straight through the youth’s pupils, saw through his Sea of Consciousness, and exposed the barbarian god lurking within—forcing it to reveal its true form.

“Do you want to die?”

Mo Hua’s voice was calm, without the slightest ripple.

In that instant, the barbarian youth’s ferocious divine power completely collapsed.

Within his Sea of Consciousness, the once-invincible barbarian god panicked like a mouse encountering its natural predator. It hastily retracted all its aura, curling up in terror, trembling violently—its divine courage nearly shattered.

With the loss of divine empowerment, the youth instantly reverted to his original form.

His face turned deathly pale. He collapsed to his knees, prostrate on the ground, dazed with fear. After a long while, he finally looked up at Mo Hua and said in disbelief,

“You… who exactly are you…”

Why… why would the barbarian god their tribe had worshipped for hundreds of years collapse in an instant under this young master’s gaze?

It even abandoned him, the “god-favored” who had been blessed since childhood, without a second thought.

The barbarian youth felt as though the heavens had fallen.

Mo Hua gently nodded.

“My guess was right. You really are god-favored…”

Hearing this, the youth tightly shut his eyes. Bloody tears seeped from the corners before he slowly opened them again, his face ashen.

Whether to the tribes of the Great Wilderness or to the cultivators of the Nine Provinces, god-favored individuals were extremely rare “treasures.”

Those who worshiped gods could use them as vessels, allowing gods to parasitize them.

Those who cultivated the Divine Dao—if benevolent—might take them as disciples; if not, they would refine them into pills, cultivate techniques with them, or devour their Divine-Sense.

Nine Provinces cultivators, if kind, would simply kill a god-favored outright.

Those with knowledge of the Divine Dao would keep them in captivity, slicing and studying them piece by piece.

And beyond that, there were many other uses…

Thus, from the moment his god-favored talent awakened, his parents had warned him repeatedly: never tell anyone this secret, or death would be inevitable, perhaps worse than death.

So he had kept it buried, never daring to reveal it.

Yet misfortune never comes alone.

His tribe was destroyed. His parents died. He became a slave.

And now, his identity as a god-favored had been seen through at a single glance.

Even Lord Huai, the god he relied on most, had been shattered by this unfathomable young master with a single look.

The barbarian youth felt himself falling into an abyss, his heart filled with nothing but icy despair.

Just as he surrendered to hopelessness, waiting for death—

He suddenly realized that his hands and feet had been released.

The nauseating, oppressive aura of the Water Prison had dispersed.

Startled, the barbarian youth lifted his head and looked at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua said calmly, “Get up. The ground’s dirty.”

The youth was confused, unsure whether Mo Hua was good or evil. But terrified of his strength, he could only rise silently and stand to the side.

Mo Hua sized him up and said, “Relax. I won’t kill you. As for the matter of you being god-favored, don’t mention it to anyone else. I’ll pretend I don’t know either.”

The barbarian slave youth frowned.

He didn’t dare trust Mo Hua.

Even though Mo Hua was fair-skinned and handsome, like someone who had stepped out of a painting, exuding a clean and pristine air…

In the ghost stories of the Great Wilderness, those demons that devoured human hearts, after transforming into human form, mostly looked just like this.

The more beautiful the exterior, the more vicious the heart.

Staring at Mo Hua in fear, the barbarian slave youth rasped, “You… what do you want?”

Mo Hua looked at him, pondered for a moment, then suddenly said:

“Do you want to learn formations?”

The barbarian youth froze. “For… formations?”

Mo Hua said, “By the Great Wilderness’ terminology, it should be called ‘Sacred Runes’…”

The barbarian youth murmured absentmindedly, “Sacred Runes…”

Mo Hua took out a small booklet and handed it to him, his voice gentle—gentle like a demon tempting the heart:

“Want to learn? I’ll teach you.”