Chapter 710: Divine War

Chapter 711: Divine War

A few days later, in the forbidden land’s secret chamber.

Mr. Tu had shed his refined and scholarly human disguise, revealing his true form. He knelt before the ram-horned divine idol, his expression filled with panic, and his emaciated face deathly pale.

His body was torn and bleeding, limbs twisted unnaturally, lying feebly on the ground.

His divine sense was submerged in the boundless infernal purgatory of the Great Wilderness, enduring every kind of torment—tongue-pulling, finger-snipping, chest-piercing, steaming torture…

In that pain, he teetered on the edge of despair.

This was divine punishment.

It was the wrath of the Divine-Lord of the Great Wilderness, descending upon him for his failure.

The altar had been seized. Divine authority stolen. The army of fiends and monsters suffered heavy losses.

The Divine-Lord’s fury was unlike anything before.

Even as Mr. Tu suffered the agonies of purgatory, the Divine-Lord’s roaring fury echoed in his mind, making his heart tremble.

After a prolonged torment, the cruel punishments ceased.

His divine sense was finally pulled from the infernal purgatory, no longer enduring that soul-crushing pain and despair.

His blood began to circulate again, and his torn flesh started to regenerate.

But the pain of divine punishment was like a red-hot branding iron, seared into his sea of consciousness—a memory he would never forget for the rest of his life.

Mr. Tu struggled to kneel upright, breathing faintly, and reverently whispered:

“Thunder and rain alike are blessings of the Divine-Lord…”

“Thank You for the chastisement, Divine-Lord…”

The oppressive, violent, and twisted will in the chamber eased slightly.

Mr. Tu took a deep breath and barely managed to mutter in a trembling voice:

“The majesty of gods is like the heavens… human lives, as lowly as ants…”

“Mortals… cannot peer into the divine, cannot covet godhood, let alone steal divine authority…”

“No one… no one could possibly do it…”

He muttered in fear.

He couldn’t imagine anyone—any mortal—capable of such madness, of stealing a god’s exalted seat, of usurping the Divine-Lord’s authority.

No person, no method—it simply wasn’t possible.

Even the thought of those four words—“stealing divine authority”—was a blasphemy beyond forgiveness. Not to mention acting on it, even thinking about it was courting divine wrath—an act of heresy!

And yet… the Divine-Lord’s authority had indeed been stolen.

His majesty had truly been defiled.

His servants had indeed suffered grievous casualties.

And so, Mr. Tu arrived at a bold, terrifying guess.

He kowtowed, gnashing his teeth, his heart pounding in dread:

“A ‘person’… could never do something so deranged!”

“This wasn’t orchestrated by some mortal schemer with ulterior motives…”

“It must be… a god. No, most likely—a heretical god!”

“This heretical god is opposing the Divine-Lord, secretly coveting His throne, defiling His altar, and seizing His authority!”

“Only a god… can contend with a god!”

“This heretical god is the true mastermind behind everything!”

The violent intent in the chamber surged violently once more.

A furious and savage will flooded the room.

Mr. Tu prostrated fully on the ground, not daring to speak, not daring to move, only his fingertips trembling ever so slightly.

A moment later, the wrathful aura dissipated, and the atmosphere calmed.

The Divine-Lord did not reprimand Mr. Tu.

It seemed… He acknowledged Mr. Tu’s theory.

If the mastermind was indeed a heretical god, then all of this was the work of that rival divine being.

And Mr. Tu, merely a mortal, no matter how powerful or devout, could never hope to contend with such a being.

Nor could he have predicted the devious tactics of another god.

Just as Mr. Tu was trembling in fear, he suddenly felt a surge of powerful dark will pour into his sea of consciousness.

His divine sense—though now bloodier, more sinister, and more chaotic—had grown stronger.

Moreover, embedded within it were fragments of arcane array knowledge…

They were memories—array inheritances—ripped directly from the minds of formation masters!

Mr. Tu’s eyes quivered.

This was a divine blessing!

The Divine-Lord still slumbered, not yet fully awakened, so many things had to be handled through His servants.

Especially now that they were facing a rival god—one cloaked in mystery and danger.

Thus, the Divine-Lord bestowed power and inheritance to ensure no mistakes.

There could be no flaws in the Divine-Lord’s grand plan!

Mr. Tu, overwhelmed with gratitude, kowtowed again and again, then slowly raised his head. His eyes deepened:

“The Great Void Sect… are followers of the heretical god.”

“The Gu Family… Gu Changhuai… are its minions.”

“This will become a divine war—waged with mortal flesh and blood!”

“The Divine-Lord’s authority shall begin its descent from the Great Wilderness… and sweep across Qianzhou!”

Meanwhile, the one Mr. Tu now called a “heretical god”—Mo Hua—was lazily sunbathing on a grassy field.

Yu’er had just finished her lessons and was happily rolling around beside him.

Mo Hua had recently gobbled up a bunch of Great Wilderness fiends.

Yu’er’s nightmares had become less intense. She slept better at night and had grown noticeably more cheerful.

While playing with Yu’er, Mo Hua flipped through the Taixu Token.

He was looking to learn a few Grade Two, Seventeen-Rune formations.

Preferably the ones he was most familiar with—the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams systems. They’d be easier to pick up and could serve as a stepping stone to more advanced Grade Two formations.

Lying on the soft grass, Mo Hua skimmed through them for a while, then shook his head and sighed.

“Too expensive…”

Most Grade Two Seventeen-Rune formations cost four to five hundred contribution points.

Mo Hua currently had two thousand—already a hefty amount for someone who’d just entered Foundation Establishment stage.

Actually, he had earned more than that.

He drew formations, completed bounties, and occasionally took on Dao Court errands—earning extra points through Uncle Gu’s connections.

He had many more ways to earn points than the average disciple.

But… he also burned through them fast.

So while two thousand seemed like a lot, it would only get him four or five formations—at most.

And while he could afford them, doing so would leave him nearly broke.

Coming from a humble background, Mo Hua couldn’t bring himself to let his contribution points drop below a thousand—it just made him uneasy.

“Contribution points…”

Suddenly, he remembered: he still had a batch of points pending from the Dao Court.

For helping capture the Fire Buddha, Uncle Gu had promised to secure him some merit points.

They were still stuck in the Dao Court’s endless bureaucratic grind.

It was just taking too long…

Mo Hua sighed.

He hadn’t been in a hurry before—his points were enough.

But now that he was ready to learn Seventeen-Rune formations, his spending had ramped up.

He needed those points—urgently.

He decided to follow up.

Uncle Gu was usually busy during the day handling Dao Court affairs—not a good time to disturb him.

So, after his classes that evening, Mo Hua sent a message:

“Uncle Gu, what about my contribution points? Still not approved?”

Uncle Gu didn’t reply for a whole incense stick’s time—who knows what he was busy with. Eventually, he responded:

“What points?”

Mo Hua’s face darkened. “The Fire Buddha points!”

“Oh.”

Uncle Gu finally remembered.

“Should be soon. I’ll push it tomorrow. They’ll probably be approved and transferred to the Great Void Sect in a couple days.”

Mo Hua lit up and instantly changed tone: “Thanks, Uncle Gu!”

“Mm.”

Uncle Gu replied indifferently.

“By the way,” Mo Hua thought for a moment, then asked, “what’s the situation with that Young Master Jin?”

Uncle Gu was silent for a moment.

Mo Hua said, “Just tell me a little bit…”

He knew some things at the Dao Court had to be kept confidential.

Uncle Gu sighed. “Telling you a bit won’t hurt…”

Catching Young Master Jin and his gang was largely due to you.

“Xie Liu is currently locked up in the Dao Prison,” Uncle Gu said, “charged with attacking the Dao Court’s deputy director. As for his other crimes, we haven’t been able to pin anything down…”

“The other Broken Gold Sect disciples are detained, too. The Broken Gold Sect is secretly working to get them released—results still unknown.”

“And as for that Young Master Jin, the Dao Court actually issued an order to release him…”

“Released?!” Mo Hua blurted.

Uncle Gu shook his head. “That Young Master Jin—his name is Jin Yicai—is true Broken Gold Sect aristocracy. His great-ancestor was once the sect’s leader; now his grandfather is the Grand Elder, his father is the Deputy Sect Leader, and his mother a True Transmission Elder…”

“On his father’s side, they’ve always been top-tier Broken Gold Sect nobles; on his mother’s, they’re tied to the Seven Pavilions of the Central Dao Court—quite influential in Daozhou.”

“Jin Yicai is the child of this great family alliance…”

Uncle Gu scoffed bitterly. “Two great clans forged an alliance, and out came this Jin Yicai brat—spoiled rotten, thinks he owns the world, now utterly lawless…”

Mo Hua frowned. “But still—Jin Yicai clearly broke Dao law. He trafficked cultivators, refined human pills… at this point, shouldn’t the Dao Court care?”

“That’s exactly the problem,” Uncle Gu sighed. “He shifted all the blame—claims he knew nothing of the trafficking, that the illicit pill-refining had nothing to do with him.”

“His father leveraged Broken Gold Sect connections to plead his case at the Dao Court…”

“His mother used her clan’s influence through Central Daozhou to secretly pressure Qianxue Prefecture.”

“She even personally went to the Dao Court, saying, ‘Jin Yicai is young and ignorant—a mere child, what does he know? If any wrongdoing occurred, either someone framed him or someone else egged him on…’”

“And, ‘I’ve watched this child grow—he’s upright, diligent in cultivation, filial and respectful. Even his maternal grandfather and some of Daozhou’s old ancestors favor him greatly…’”

Uncle Gu’s sarcasm turned to helplessness.

“The Broken Gold Sect is one of Qianxue’s Twelve Streams; to a degree, it represents Qianxue Prefecture’s reputation. They couldn’t let such a scandal break publicly.”

“The Dao Court, constrained by outside forces, dared not pursue the case further.”

Mo Hua’s expression grew complex.

Whether sincere or feigned, to his parents and elders Jin Yicai was a “filial, upright child.”

But to every other cultivator, he was a thorough scoundrel.

Such grave offenses—and they got him off.

Anyone processed by the Dao Court could be sprung.

Mo Hua couldn’t tell whether the true evil lay with the “heretical god” or “human hearts.”

“Be careful,” Uncle Gu warned, regret in his eyes. “Jin Yicai never forgets a grievance, and he’s met you. Having been humiliated, he might well come after you.”

If only he’d been the director, Uncle Gu thought, he’d have severed first and reported later—slaughtered that brat Jin Yicai himself!

“Mm-hmm, Uncle Gu, don’t worry.” Mo Hua said.

He wasn’t afraid of Jin Yicai. Once he’d mastered those Seventeen-Rune formations, he’d be even less so.

He’d just have to watch out for the Broken Gold Sect’s toadies.

But that was easy. From now on, he’d either stay within his own sect or only venture into Second-Rank Prefectures. In Second-Rank Prefectures, no Broken Gold Sect lackey could touch him.

Uncle Gu, on the other hand, would likely earn Jin Yicai’s—and the Broken Gold Sect’s—enmity, not to mention the lingering plots of other heretical gods.

“Uncle Gu, you be careful too,” Mo Hua reminded him.

“Mm.” Uncle Gu replied lightly.

Mo Hua wasn’t sure how seriously Uncle Gu took the matter. But after all, Uncle Gu was a Golden Core cultivator, a Deputy Director of the Dao Court—he didn’t need advice from a lowly Foundation Establishment disciple.

After his chat with Uncle Gu, Mo Hua turned his full attention back to learning formations.

From the Taixu Token, he specifically chose a Second-Rank, Seventeen-Rune array called the “Metal-Suppressing Formation” to study.

This formation curbs the flow of Metal-natured qi, weakening metal-based spells or sword techniques.

“Let’s start with something simple—the Metal-Suppressing Formation…”

“If the Broken Gold Sect dares provoke me, I’ll learn more, maybe even assemble a full set of anti-metal sword-technique formations!” Mo Hua thought.

After midnight, his divine sense sank into his sea of consciousness, and he practiced the Metal-Suppressing Formation over and over at the Dao Stele.

This was the first high-grade, Second-Rank formation he’d attempted.

It was difficult, and he didn’t master it in one night.

The next day, after class, he was about to resume practice when a junior disciple came looking for him. “Mo Hua, I just passed the Merit Hall. The Merit Elder wants to see you.”

“Merit Elder?” Mo Hua paused, then his eyes lit up.

Could it be—the Fire Buddha merit points have arrived?

“Thank you!” Mo Hua gratefully thanked the disciple and dashed off to the Merit Hall.

The Merit Elder was waiting just for him. When Mo Hua entered, the elder eyed him suspiciously. “Exactly what formations did you draw for the Dao Court?”

Mo Hua froze, then realized. Uncle Gu had covered for him with the old “formation-drawing” excuse.

“Many, many formations,” Mo Hua replied.

The Merit Elder snorted. “Nonsense. Even countless formations wouldn’t earn you this many merit points.”

“How much?”

Mo Hua looked absolutely thrilled.

The Merit Elder gave him a glance and sighed. “Eight thousand.”

Eight thousand?!

Mo Hua’s eyes went wide.

So much?! The Fire Buddha was really worth a fortune!

A bright smile bloomed across Mo Hua’s fair face.

The Merit Elder explained, “This reward wasn’t issued through normal channels—it was specially allocated by the Dao Court. So, it had to be verified by the sect before being transferred to you.”

“Mm mm!”

Mo Hua nodded eagerly.

He didn’t care much for the bureaucratic process—just as long as the merit points reached him, he was happy.

The Merit Elder hesitated but said nothing further. He simply followed protocol. After having Mo Hua sign and place his seal, he transferred the merit points to Mo Hua’s Great Void Token.

Mo Hua signed, stamped, received his merit, bid the elder farewell, and practically skipped away with joy.

The Merit Elder watched his retreating figure in silence.

Eight thousand merit points…

Even for an inner sect disciple, that would be a massive fortune—let alone someone like Mo Hua, who hadn’t even been in the sect for two years.

Merit in this sect wasn’t something you earned easily.

By rights, no matter the source, as long as the reward was officially documented by the Dao Court, it should be “clean” on paper.

There was no need for him to dig deeper or invade a disciple’s privacy.

And yet, he couldn’t help but feel… something was off.

What exactly had this kid done to earn that much?

He was just a Foundation Establishment rookie, yet he completed a task that netted eight thousand points in one go?!

It defied all logic.

In all his centuries managing the merit system, this was the first time he’d encountered such a case.

The Merit Elder flipped through the Dao Court documents.

They were extremely vague: “Great Void Sect disciple Mo Hua, skilled in array formations, assisted the Dao Court with a case. Special reward: 8000 merit points for commendable service.”

Yeah right…

The elder frowned in thought.

He carefully revisited everything he knew about Mo Hua—

Then suddenly, like a bolt of lightning—realization struck.

Mo Hua. Dao Court. Arrays…

Elder Xun!

The Merit Elder finally understood.

It had to be Elder Xun.

He must’ve pulled strings and used his network to secure those 8000 merit points for Mo Hua through the Dao Court.

Elder Xun was a patriarch-level figure. Outwardly, he was just a strict, no-nonsense instructor—but in reality, his influence and connections within the Qianxue Province ran deep.

Only someone like him could get the Dao Court to go through the formalities and funnel merit into Great Void Sect.

But still—even with that kind of prestige, wasn’t this crossing the line?!

The Merit Elder was getting riled up.

Eight thousand merit! That wasn’t some pocket change!

Even if you adore the kid, you can’t spoil him like this—it’s basically raising a flower in a greenhouse.

He’s just a disciple of Great Void Sect—not your great-grandson!

(And even if he were—that’d still be a no-go!)

The sect has rules. Some exceptions are tolerable, but merit points underpin the very structure of the sect’s system—not something to toy with.

Fueled by righteous fury, the Merit Elder stormed off to find Elder Xun.

At the Elders’ Residence, he knocked firmly. A young attendant let him in, and he sat there fuming, sipping bitter tea.

Half an hour passed. Elder Xun finally emerged from his inner chamber, furrowing his brows in contemplation. Upon lifting his gaze, he spotted the disgruntled Merit Elder.

He paused, surprised. “What brings you here?”

The Merit Elder sighed, exasperated:

“Grand-uncle Master, it’s fine to show a little favoritism to disciples, but there must be limits. Some rules can be bent—others are sacred and must not be broken.”

“Without rules, the sect loses its shape and order.”

“What you’ve done here isn’t protecting the child—it’s harming him…”

Elder Xun narrowed his eyes. “Did you fry your brain in cultivation or something? What nonsense are you babbling about?”

The Merit Elder sighed again, “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

He slapped a document on the table—the one bearing the Dao Court’s official seal. “Wasn’t this merit special-issued by those old Dao Court heads you’re chummy with?”

Elder Xun slowly picked up the document and gave it a glance. He froze.

Mo Hua?

Eight thousand merit?

Specially granted by the Dao Court?

He blinked. Then read it again.

No mistake.

His expression turned complicated.

Why on earth would the Dao Court grant Mo Hua that much merit?

What exactly had Mo Hua done?

Or more importantly… What is the Dao Court really up to?

Seeing the elder’s shocked expression and silence, the Merit Elder felt a chill in his chest.

Had he… acted too rashly?

He grew uneasy and slowly stood up, cautiously asking:

“Grand-uncle Master… so this reward wasn’t through your channels…”

Elder Xun gave him a mild glance.

The Merit Elder immediately forced a smile. “This foolish junior was out of line. I should’ve known better than to question your noble character and impartial standards…”

Elder Xun calmly said:

“Next time you act without thinking, go sweep the Sword Tomb behind the mountain with your Senior Uncle. As for your position in the Merit Hall—your junior sister can take over.”

The Merit Elder broke out in a cold sweat and instantly cried:

“Please have mercy, Grand-uncle Master! The Merit Hall is busy, I won’t disturb your cultivation further!”

With that, he jumped to his feet, gave a rushed salute, and bolted.

Elder Xun shook his head, then his expression turned serious.

His gaze dropped back to the document in hand as he murmured inwardly:

“This Mo Hua… seems a bit different from what I thought…”

(End of Chapter)