Chapter 1361: Shentu Ye

Chapter 1360: Shentu Ye

Before them lay a vast “pool.” Ages seemed to have passed over it; draconic qi circulated within, shifting in unfathomable patterns.

Yet there was no water in the pool.

There was a dragon.

It was a gigantic azure dragon that had been dissected open. Its head was nowhere to be seen. The body, however, looked as though it had been meticulously cut apart blade by blade. The dragon’s flesh had been stripped away, leaving behind crystal-like dragon bones sprawled across the entire Dragon Pool.

The shape of those bones faintly conformed to some grand structure, massive and exquisitely precise.

Between the winding bones, following meridian-like pathways and fixed nodal points, one sealed chamber after another had been constructed.

Inside the Dragon Pool, dragon qi was as dense as seawater.

Among the many chambers, some contained especially concentrated dragon qi, swirling like river vortices, exuding the force of a great dragon inhaling and exhaling.

It was not only dragon qi. Mo Hua could also sense a mysterious heavenly mechanism permeating the entire pool, circulating along the dragon bones, intercepted at node after node, then funneled into the chambers.

This profound qi of heaven and earth seemed to be the legendary “fortune” of the Great Wilderness.

Seeing this scene, Mo Hua could not conceal his shock.

It was as if the truth were laid bare before him:

In ancient times, the ancestors of the Great Wilderness had slain a living dragon, excavated an immense pool, dissected the dragon within it, and used its flesh, bones, organs, and fate-essence—treasures wrested from heaven and earth—to construct this Dragon Pool.

This was the forbidden ground of the Great Wilderness.

The place where dragons were slain.

And the place where dragons were raised.

It was the site where successive orthodox Royal clans forged their Golden Cores and altered their fate.

How much ancient cultivation inheritance and wisdom were condensed here?

How much killing intent, resolve, and ambition lay hidden within?

Even Mo Hua was momentarily dazed.

The other prodigies, peering through the Dragon Pool gate, watched the scene with shifting expressions, stunned beyond words.

Across the Nine Provinces, living dragons were nearly extinct and had not appeared in the world for ages.

A dead dragon was equally rare.

This dragon—long dead, yet reforged into a sacred construct—deeply shook their hearts.

They quickly regained their senses. Feeling the vast dragon qi, an intense desire surged within them, to rush into the pool and temper themselves in its power.

But Mo Hua’s slender figure stood before the Dragon Pool like an impassable chasm.

The brutal image of him tearing apart the Dragon Emperor resurfaced in their minds. For a moment, no one dared step past him.

Yet the Dragon Pool lay before them, and Mo Hua himself had no wish to delay.

After a brief contemplation, he stepped into the pool.

Situ Jian, Bai Zisheng, and the others followed behind him.

Seeing that Mo Hua neither objected nor blocked them, the remaining righteous and demonic prodigies entered as well.

Once inside, the dragon qi grew denser. The ancient, vigorous aura filled their limbs and bones with every breath, and excitement spread across their faces.

In such an ancient land of inheritance, where dragon qi was as deep as the sea, what kind of Golden Core might one form here? The mere thought was intoxicating.

They each glanced at Mo Hua. Seeing he still gave no indication, they silently circled around him and went to seek suitable places to form their cores.

Yet their gazes held deep wariness… and deep resentment.

They all sensed that Mo Hua would be an indescribable great enemy in their lives.

But they also knew that even joining forces now might not be enough to kill him.

Their only turning point was core formation.

The Golden Core was a great watershed.

That watershed would separate Mo Hua—with his inferior spiritual roots—from them completely.

If they could follow their plans and condense a Superior-grade Golden Core from their lifelong Dao foundations, everything would be different.

Among prodigies, victory and death would still remain uncertain.

Each of them paid Mo Hua a final, silent look before darting into the Dragon Pool to seek their own core-forming grounds.

Da Hu also looked at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua’s expression was calm. He said nothing, only gave him an encouraging look.

Da Hu sighed inwardly. Following Young Master Tuoba, he too entered the pool.

More and more prodigies leapt past Mo Hua and descended into the Dragon Pool.

Standing at a high vantage point, Mo Hua watched without interfering.

The Dragon Pool’s current arrangement was the result of many forces: the Dao Court, the great clans, and the demonic path…

Even Mo Hua could not forcibly obstruct them. To do so would provoke not merely these people, but the hidden ancestor and mighty figures of both righteous and demonic factions.

Those were the true players behind the board,,, beings of terrifying cultivation.

Mo Hua did not even know who they were.

Thus he could only watch as these favored children of heaven absorbed dragon qi and forged their Golden Cores.

Mo Hua knew they were all chess pieces.

In truth, he himself was also a chess piece.

Only, unlike the others, he was both a piece… and a player.

He withdrew his gaze and surveyed the entire Dragon Pool from a higher perspective.

The more he looked, the more doubts arose in his heart.

There were far too many chambers within the pool… hundreds at a rough estimate.

This defied common sense.

Was the Royal clan of the Great Wilderness truly so powerful that hundreds of royals could form cores simultaneously?

Core formation was no trivial matter. Timing always differed; there would inevitably be sequence and spacing.

Even the Great Clans of the Nine Provinces or the Central Dao Province itself might not see such a simultaneous event once in a thousand years.

If not for simultaneous core formation, constructing such a vast Dragon Pool would have been exorbitantly wasteful.

Why had the Great Wilderness ancestors built so many chambers?

Or…

Were these chambers not meant solely for the Royal clan?

And… could the layout of the dragon bones be a formation hub?

Mo Hua frowned and activated his divine sense, attempting to deduce the structure.

He failed.

The Dragon Pool, the dragon corpse, the bones, the dragon qi, and the hidden profundities within were far too deep.

His realm was insufficient; his divine sense sank like a stone into an abyss.

He could not calculate it.

His frown deepened.

Suddenly, his thoughts stirred. He sensed a familiar strand of karma. Surprised, he followed the trace deeper into the pool and arrived at a raised altar… where he discovered a coffin.

The coffin looked extremely familiar.

At present, however, it was completely sealed.

He pushed the lid. It did not budge; something inside held it fast.

Outside the coffin, where dragon bones rose in a ridge, stood a massive stone stele.

It was made of an unknown material, resembling dragon bone, yet also like some ancient fossil. Its surface was entirely blank, without a single marking.

“A blank… stele…”

Mo Hua’s heart tightened inexplicably. Even the depths of his Sea of Consciousness trembled faintly.

It felt as though he had touched upon a deeper, unknown secret.

His expression grew grave.

After studying the blank stele carefully, he gradually realized that it had once borne inscriptions or patterns, but for some reason, they had later been erased.

“Not a blank stele…”

A trace of regret surfaced in his heart, followed by an inexplicable sense of relief.

But what had once been carved there?

He tried various methods, even karmic deduction and retrograde tracing, but could not restore it.

He glanced again at the coffin and pushed it once more. It remained unmoved.

The stele had been wiped clean.

The coffin had been sealed shut.

Someone had tampered with both…

Mo Hua frowned and sank into thought.

“Little Senior Brother…” Situ Jian could not help calling out.

Mo Hua came back to himself and saw that Situ Jian and Bai Zisheng were both looking at him with concern.

Bai Zisheng asked, “What’s wrong? Is Something off?”

Mo Hua pondered for a moment, then shook his head. “Forget it. Let’s form the core first.”

Forming the Golden Core was the most important matter.

As for other secrets, they were not urgent for now.

Situ Jian nodded, and Bai Zisheng silently agreed.

Afterward, the three began searching for suitable places to form their cores.

Inside the Dragon Pool, numerous dragon-bone chambers were intricately scattered throughout.

These ancient chambers seemed, from their very design, intended for core formation: sturdy on the outside, sealed and tranquil within, difficult to disturb, and extremely convenient.

Moreover, each chamber was roughly the same, there was little to choose between them.

Mo Hua selected a chamber near the coffin and stele, that looked comfortable and prepared to form his core there.

Bai Zisheng and Situ Jian also selected a chamber not far away.

“Little Senior Brother, I wish you success in forming your core,” Situ Jian said sincerely.

He felt deeply grateful. Without his Little Senior Brother, given the background of the Situ Clan, he might never have reached the Dragon Pool to obtain this opportunity.

At the very least, he could not have passed the trial of the Great Wilderness Dragon Emperor… he did not possess Royal blood.

Little Senior Brother had torn that Dragon Emperor apart, allowing him to slip through; he owed him yet another debt of gratitude.

He wondered whether he could ever repay all of it in this lifetime.

Mo Hua smiled. “I wish you smooth success as well.”

Situ Jian nodded earnestly, then entered his chamber to prepare for core formation.

Mo Hua glanced at Bai Zisheng. In a public setting, they could not say much; they merely looked at each other and gave slight nods of blessing.

Forming the Golden Core depended on both talent and fortune.

From here on, everything would rely on one’s own destiny.

The two brothers said nothing more. Each returned to his chamber to prepare to form his core and shape his Dao foundation and fate.

…

Inside the Dragon Pool chamber,

Mo Hua once again finished preparing everything.

Spirit stones for breathing cultivation and condensing the minor circulation.

Medicinal pills to stabilize the foundation and heal injuries.

Protective formations to guard against disturbance.

And the six straw dogs capable of resisting causal killing.

This time, Mo Hua’s preparations were even more thorough.

Within the Dragon Pool, dragon qi filled the air, concealing part of the karmic aura.

Six straw dogs were equivalent to six karmic lives.

Even if a group of heavenly-secret grandmasters shamelessly schemed against him and struck through destiny itself, the Dragon Pool plus the six straw dogs should be enough to withstand most dangers.

Moreover, this time he was no longer forming his core as the Great Wilderness’s overwhelmingly powerful “Divine-Shaman,” but merely as Mo Hua, an ordinary disciple. Presumably, the dangers would be far fewer.

This was true, fully prepared core formation.

After everything was ready, Mo Hua exhaled softly, suddenly feeling as if he were in a dream.

“Forming the core…”

Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, peak Foundation Establishment, the failed core formation…

All the past people and events felt distant and long gone, yet in a daze seemed as if they had happened only yesterday.

And now, he would attempt core formation once again.

He just did not know whether unexpected changes would occur this time.

Whether the quality of his Golden Core would match his expectations, using the Taotie Twelve-Meridian Spiritual Skeleton Formation and loopholes in cultivation principles to break rank restrictions, defy his spiritual roots, and alter his fate.

What kind of Golden Core would he ultimately form…

…

Mo Hua suppressed his excitement, calmed his mind, and began following the core-formation method passed down through generations of the Great Void Sect, absorbing spirit stones step by step, breathing spiritual qi, refining the minor circulation.

He had done this once before; he was thoroughly familiar with the process.

Closing his eyes, he began his breakthrough.

Spirit stones were refined. Spiritual qi circulated through the minor cycle.

Everything proceeded smoothly.

But as he cultivated, the surroundings trembled slightly. Mo Hua froze, suddenly sensing that the spiritual power within his body had… vanished?

Startled, he opened his eyes and discovered that it was not only his spiritual power that had disappeared.

The spirit stones, medicinal pills, formations, and straw dogs around him… had all vanished as well. The surroundings were empty.

He was still inside the Dragon Pool chamber.

Yet this chamber seemed different. Though similar in shape, Mo Hua could sense that it was not the same chamber he had been in before.

The feeling between illusion and reality was different.

“This again… a dream?”

Mo Hua drew a deep breath, irritation already stirring in his heart.

Yet he ultimately calmed his impatience, rose up, left the chamber, and walked toward the Dragon Pool outside.

The Dragon Pool now looked different as well, hazy and indistinct, as if submerged in a layer of seven-colored mist.

There was no trace of anyone nearby.

No aura of Little Senior Brother, Situ Fang, or any of the righteous or demonic prodigies.

Within the vast Dragon Pool, towering dragon bones and winding chambers stretched endlessly, as though only he remained.

He felt like a solitary figure forgotten in the river of time, left to accompany only loneliness and deathly silence.

Mo Hua inhaled softly again.

He walked forward slowly and, guided by memory, arrived at a familiar location.

Here, the coffin and stele stood.

Yet both looked different from what he had seen in reality.

As if soaked too long in the river of time—half real, half illusory, faintly distorted.

Mo Hua reached out and pushed the coffin.

To his surprise, this time it opened.

He saw the person lying inside.

It was a young boy. His fair face still carried youthful softness. He resembled Yu’er somewhat, yet there was an innate majesty in his features.

This was a face Mo Hua had seen before.

“Shentu Ye…”

Mo Hua murmured softly.

The last prince of the Great Wilderness, younger brother of Shentu Ao, the youngest royal prince of the Great Wilderness… and also a prince who had died at a very young age.

The last time Mo Hua saw Shentu Ye was beneath Lone Mountain in the Qianxue Prefecture.

Shentu Ye lay cold inside the coffin.

And now, seeing him again, he was the same, sealed within the coffin, cold and lifeless.

For some reason, seeing Shentu Ye—somewhat resembling Yu’er and still so young—stirred a trace of pity in Mo Hua’s heart, and he could not help but sigh softly.

Shentu Ye lay quietly in the coffin, without the slightest trace of life.

Mo Hua shook his head, stepped past the coffin, and looked toward the enormous stone stele behind it.

In reality, this giant stele had been blank.

But now, as if within a dream, patterns had appeared upon its surface.

They were extremely strange patterns, resembling formation lines, yet not quite any formation he recognized.

They looked somewhat like ancient pictographs of the Great Wilderness, yet as time seemed to ripple across them, they no longer appeared to be writing.

At least, with Mo Hua’s knowledge of ancient Great Wilderness script, he could not recognize them.

Mo Hua could only calm himself and focus carefully. At the same time, his Divine Sense poured forth like a breached flood.

As his Divine Sense surged and computational power amplified his perception, the patterns in his eyes began to twist and transform, revealing savage, archaic shapes. They connected with one another, forming a long chain, echoing front to back, cycling endlessly into a complete sequence.

In a flash of insight, Mo Hua suddenly realized what this chain of patterns meant.

In that instant, his scalp tingled and stormy waves surged within his heart.

At the same time, a crisp voice sounded beside his ear:

“As expected… you can understand it.”

Mo Hua’s pupils contracted. He turned his head, and saw the pale-faced Shentu Ye standing right behind him.