After destroying all traces, Mo Hua still felt a lingering fear. “What was that just now? What kind of karma? Why was Mr. Wu entangled with those things?”

“What exactly is his identity—”

Mo Hua frowned.

He recalled the scene he had foreseen during the recent divination, his thoughts swirling.

“Dragon bone chains had stopped a massive fireball, like a blazing sun, suspended in the sky—”

What did this mean?

Were these dragon bones used for sealing?

Mo Hua’s gaze sharpened. He could feel a powerful “sealing” force emanating from the dragon bones, as if someone had firmly sealed away the karmic ties of that sun-like blaze, not wanting others to glimpse it.

“Whose mighty cultivation technique is this?”

The more Mo Hua thought about it, the more unnerved he felt.

“I secretly glimpsed this major karmic event; will someone track me down using the clues?”

Although he had immediately destroyed all divination mediums and cut off the ritual the moment he sensed something was wrong, he still felt uneasy.

He already had enough trouble on his hands.

He certainly didn’t want to be targeted by another “old monster.”

To be safe, Mo Hua used fireballs to blast the demon bone brazier and all other items used for the divination into black ashes, then scattered the ashes with a Breeze spell. Only then did he feel a little relieved.

After doing all this, Mo Hua couldn’t help but sigh:

“Karma is indeed extremely perilous—”

He had only just acquired the Desolate Lands’ demon bone divination technique a few days ago, and merely using it to divine about a dead person almost led him to disaster, nearly throwing him into a fiery pit.

The scarcity of Heavenly Mystery cultivators probably has something to do with this.

One careless mistake, and you could divine your own demise.

In Mo Hua’s mind, the great karmic vision of dragon bones locking a blazing sun, capable of incinerating the heavens and scorching the earth, involuntarily reappeared.

He couldn’t help but shake his head.

“Forget it, I won’t worry about it anymore, nor can I think about it further—”

Thinking, too, creates karma.

If he thought about it too much, it would be easy for others to deduce it in reverse.

His martial uncle had this ability.

Mo Hua forced himself to forget everything, then picked a formation array and began practicing it to calm his mind and settle his emotions.

But after drawing for a moment, Mo Hua’s brush stopped, and his brows furrowed again.

“Can I truly ignore it?”

Mr. Wu was from the Desolate Lands.

Although he didn’t know the exact meaning of this karmic event, it was certainly related to the Desolate Lands.

And he himself was going to the Desolate Lands next.

This trouble was definitely unavoidable.

Mo Hua knew himself well; even if he didn’t seek out trouble, trouble would find him.

Evil gods and heavenly demons were all closely related to him; he was a typical “disaster magnet.”

“I need to find a way to clarify this without getting entangled in specific karma, but at least I must know what this is about, so I can prepare for it.” Mo Hua pondered, “So, should I try to divine again?”

Then he shook his head again.

“I can’t divine again. The previous divination must have ‘alerted the enemy.’ Divining again would be akin to walking into a trap.”

“Heavenly karma is like a ‘dark mist’; whoever pokes their head out first dies first. Therefore, it’s best not to walk the same path twice.”

“Mr. Wu’s ’cause’ has already been rendered useless; I absolutely cannot target him again.”

But if not Mr. Wu, then whom could he target?

From whom could he glimpse the karma of this event without being detected?

Mo Hua thought for a moment, finding no clue, and couldn’t help but sigh:

“If only I had known, I should have left someone alive.”

Be it Mr. Wu or the former sect master of the Canglang Sect, if he had just left one of them alive, he could have extracted clues from them through torture using formations, without resorting to “karma techniques.”

Mo Hua felt some regret.

“I was too rash.”

Sometimes, being too decisive in killing isn’t necessarily a good thing.

Killing too quickly can lead to missing important information.

“I wasn’t such a ruthless person before—it’s all the baleful aura that affected my mind and made me impulsive.”

Mo Hua reflected inwardly.

But thinking about it now was pointless.

Mr. Wu and Sect Master Duan were both dead.

Mr. Wu’s karma could no longer be divined.

What else could he do?

Mo Hua closed his eyes and replayed the entire event in his mind from beginning to end, searching for karmic clues.

After an unknown period, a flash of inspiration struck Mo Hua, and he suddenly opened his eyes, which shone brightly.

“If I can’t divine about Mr. Wu, then I’ll divine about myself!”

The origin of this matter was his own feeling of incongruity, as if he had overlooked something important.

He had guessed that this matter was related to Mr. Wu, which was why he had divined about Mr. Wu.

But the initial “cause” lay with himself.

In other words, if he divined about himself—why he felt this incongruity, and what exactly he had overlooked—he might gain some useful insights.

Mo Hua’s eyes lit up. Without hesitation, he immediately resorted to his old trick, burning wolf bones with phosphorescent flames to perform the demon bone divination.

“What did I overlook, what did I overlook—” Mo Hua chanted silently to himself.

The phosphorescent flames flickered, and patterns appeared on the wolf bones.

Karma began to flow.

Vaguely, Mo Hua saw another scene.

In the scene, there was a dim room with tables placed on either side and glowing formation patterns illuminating the surroundings.

He stood alone in the room, staring intently at an unknown mist ahead, his face filled with shock, as if he had seen something incredible. “Is this—a fragment from the future?”

“What exactly—did I see to be so shocked?”

Mo Hua frowned and couldn’t help but continue the deduction, wanting to see what he “saw” in the future.

But as soon as he touched the mist representing “unknown,” the omen suddenly shattered, the karmic connection broke, and everything dissipated into smoke.

Mo Hua’s heart tensed. Without hesitation, he quickly burned all the mediums used for the divination to ashes, leaving no trace, only then feeling relieved.

Afterward, Mo Hua fell into deep thought again.

The divination just now, deduced from “cause” to “effect,” revealed his future experiences.

In this karmic fragment, he indeed uncovered a secret, seeing a certain “unknown” karmic event, which left him shocked.

But the question was, “What exactly is this unknown karmic event?”

“How exactly did I make myself discover this ‘unknown’ karmic event?”

“Since I discovered it, it must be something within my scope of knowledge and ability—”

Mo Hua’s brows furrowed deeply as he continued to ponder.

“That dimly lit room just now looked a bit familiar; it seemed to be Mr. Wu’s secret chamber?”

“Are the glowing formation patterns the demonic runes in the secret chamber?”

“In that case, the position of that unknown mist corresponds exactly to—that empty altar?!”

The altar!

Mo Hua suddenly understood.

No wonder he felt as if he had forgotten or overlooked something.

Generally speaking, as a half-step deity, Mo Hua was very sensitive to altars. Even an empty altar would not be ignored; he would certainly examine it carefully.

But while in the secret chamber, he had, intentionally or unintentionally, “ignored” the altar.

“Something’s not right—”

Mo Hua immediately set off, his figure moving like water. He went to the forbidden area of Canglang Mountain, bypassed the mountain path, and entered the secret chamber.

The area around the secret chamber was very quiet; there were no Canglang Sect disciples present.

Mo Hua had specifically instructed Sect Master Zhao not to let anyone else approach the secret chamber.

Sect Master Zhao had done well.

Mo Hua walked directly into the secret chamber.

Inside the secret chamber, everything remained untouched.

Of course, since it had been “looted” by Mo Hua, it was also empty, with nothing left.

All that remained were scattered demonic runes on the ground and the empty altar.

Mo Hua’s spiritual sense swept across the room, detecting no anomalies.

The altar was indeed empty.

At least, “on the current karmic level, it was ’empty’—”

The moment this thought arose, Mo Hua’s heart trembled.

He looked around, then recalled the scene foreseen in the divination. Comparing the two, he found the only difference.

“The formation array.”

The formation array currently in the secret chamber was dim and incomplete.

But in the scene predicted by the divination, the formation array was lit.

This meant that at some point in the future, he would activate the array and then see the unknown karmic event.

The formation array. Mo Hua carefully examined the array, deducing in his mind, then his expression subtly changed.

These demonic runes were not of high caliber, fragmented and disorderly, completely disregarded by him.

Therefore, Mo Hua had only given them a brief glance before, paying them no further attention.

But upon closer inspection now, he found that these seemingly chaotic demonic runes actually contained profound mysteries.

“The demonic runes are fragmented and varied: there are eagle runes, tiger runes, snake runes, deer runes, ox runes—”

“Is this the technique of Ten Thousand Demons Transforming into Dragons?”

“Moreover, it’s a variation and derivation of Ten Thousand Demons Transforming into Dragons from another system, sharing the same origin as the Desolate Lands’ legacy, but the dragon it transforms into is not the Azure Dragon.”

Mo Hua’s heart sank, and his expression grew solemn.

Ten Thousand Demons Transforming into Dragons means extracting the essence of demonic runes, merging them into one, and transforming them into dragon-diagram formation patterns.

This is a method of “dragon creation.”

One of Mr. Tu’s core schemes in the Qianxue State Realm was to cultivate demon cultivators in Ten Thousand Demon Valley, using them as material to test the Four Symbols demonic runes, and then use those runes to “piece together” and refine a true “dragon rune.”

This was “dragon creation.”

Mo Hua was very interested in this “dragon creation” formation pattern derivation technique and had been continuously learning and researching it.

However, this was not something that could be accomplished overnight; it was difficult to achieve results in a short period.

He had also not yet learned to truly “create” a dragon rune relying solely on his own formation mastery.

Mo Hua fixed his gaze, examining the scattered Ten Thousand Demons Transforming into Dragons formation patterns on the ground once more, and quietly let out a sigh of relief.

“Good, I don’t actually have to ‘create a dragon’—”

It made sense; few people knew this method of dragon creation in the first place.

So far, besides himself, only Mr. Tu knew it.

But Mr. Tu was already dead, annihilated by the collapse of the great formation.

Across the world, those who still possessed this ability were probably few and far between.

The demonic runes before him also didn’t require “dragon creation” to be deciphered; they were more like a “dragon rune array lock.”

Different demonic runes were like different “puzzle pieces.”

Only by piecing the demonic runes together to form a dragon rune could the array lock be opened and the formation restored.

This type of formation puzzle had a pre-existing “password.”

Without the “password” to crack it, it would actually be very difficult, requiring deep mastery of Four Symbols demonic runes, familiarity with various types of demonic runes, and knowledge of their connections and transformations.

But that was for other formation masters.

For Mo Hua, who had already attempted to derive demonic runes and “create” dragon runes himself, it was child’s play.

Mo Hua first closed the secret chamber’s door, then with a flick of his finger, he sealed it with a formation array to prevent any energy from leaking out.

Only then did he begin to deduce in his mind, completing the demonic runes.

Drops of ink swirled around Mo Hua’s fingertips, coalescing into a stream, then obediently drifting through the air, winding down to the ground, and solidifying into one uniquely shaped demonic rune after another.

Some resembled fierce tigers, others greedy wolves, or ancient turtles, or massive pythons—

The fragmented demonic rune array was also being completed by Mo Hua, rune by rune, at a visible pace.

Ink swirled around Mo Hua’s fingertips, agile and swift.

One formation pattern after another, like a stampede of beasts, leapt onto the ground—

After an unknown amount of time, all the demonic runes converged, forming a complete body with scales and claws. A dragon of intense demonic aura opened its eyes, which glowed brightly.

The surroundings suddenly shook violently, and a dragon’s roar resounded.

A scorching heatwave washed over him, and intense fluctuations emanated from the previously empty altar.

The dragon rune lock opened, karma reversed, and a dense mist rose.

When the mist dissipated, the shadow of an object appeared.

Mo Hua’s pupils constricted slightly. He stared intently and found that on the altar, after piercing through the karmic illusion, a flag had appeared. It was black with a yellow border, embroidered with an Azure Dragon.

On either side of the Azure Dragon flag, there was a line of ancient, obscure Desolate Lands script.

Mo Hua had previously studied ancient Desolate Lands script at the Tai Xu Gate specifically to learn the Taotie Spirit Skeleton Array.

Therefore, he could recognize the meaning of these two obscure lines of Desolate Lands script.

On the left side of the dragon flag, it read: “The Azure Heaven is dead.”

On the right side of the dragon flag, it read: “The Desolate Heaven shall rise.”

Mo Hua gasped, a tumultuous wave crashing in his heart.

“The Azure Heaven is dead, the Desolate Heaven shall rise!”

“Could this be—the Desolate Lands’ rebellion flag?”

Almost at the instant Mo Hua unlocked the dragon seal, broke through the karma, and this Desolate Lands’ dragon flag appeared, the demonic runes on the ground spread, coalescing into streaks of demonic fire that converged towards the flag. Then, beneath the flag, after being tempered by the demonic fire, two more lines of text materialized:

“Transmit this dragon flag, annihilate the Dao Court!”

Simultaneously, the dragon flag erupted with light, and the aura of the Azure Dragon descended, like a lit “beacon fire,” transmitting this dragon aura—

—to the heavens and earth.

Ten thousand karmic threads converged, and the Heavenly Mystery boiled.

Across the vast lands, the Azure Dragon roared in the sky.

Mo Hua was completely stunned.

In that instant, he vaguely realized what he had done.

He seemed to have personally ignited the Desolate Lands’ “rebellion” dragon flag, thousands of miles away.

In the endless Desolate Lands, within the solemn Dragon Hall, a colossal “giant,” five or six people tall, with a majestic demeanor, golden long beard, and dragon armor, slowly opened his eyes. His eyes contained vertical pupils, sharp and terrifying.

A black-robed shaman priest approached, kneeling beneath him, and stammered, “Dragon Lord—”

“The Desolate Lands’ dragon bone lock has been disturbed, and Heavenly Mystery has leaked…”

“The Desolate Heaven Dragon Flag, unknowingly ignited ahead of time by someone—the beacon has already been transmitted—”

The dragon-armored giant’s expression was indifferent, his eyes exuding an awe-inspiring authority that seemed to sweep across the world.

“This is destiny; it was bound to happen, sooner or later.”

He slowly stood up, his dragon armor rumbling. His towering figure, like a humanoid giant dragon, emanated formidable power capable of sweeping away armies. His voice, like the reverberation of a great bell, held supreme majesty:

“Issue the command: My three thousand clans of the Desolate Lands, from today onward, shall not serve the Dao Court, nor honor the Son of Heaven—”

“The Azure Heaven is dead—”

“The Desolate Heaven shall rise!”

“Annihilate the Dao Court!”

The black-robed shaman priest prostrated himself, trembling all over, and piously responded, “Yes—”

In the Central Dao Court, within the Tian Shu Pavilion, the Chief Elder had feigned illness and retired due to old age. The current head of the Tian Shu Pavilion was acting under the authority of the Chief Elder of the Tian Quan Pavilion, but most of his power was vested in the Supervising Censor. This was a test for the Supervising Censor. If all went well, he would become the next Chief Elder in fifty or a hundred years.

At this moment, the Supervising Censor was drinking tea, contemplating the position of Chief Elder, when suddenly he saw a red light in the sky, like a streak of burning fire, streak across and fall in the Southern Desolate.

Watching that fierce blaze, the Supervising Censor felt his heart seize with terror, a chill running through his body.

“Yinghuo—”

At this very moment, across the Nine Provinces, many Old Ancestors of the Void Transcendent realm looked up at the sky, watching the scorching streak of fire across the horizon. They watched that fiery streak burn through the sky.

The sky south of Lizhou was a blaze of fire, incinerating and covering the sun. Everyone’s eyes were filled with horror.

In the autumn of the 100,037th year of the Dao Calendar, Yinghuo fell to the south, its blazing fire piercing the heavens, violating the central palace, signaling the emergence of war and the dawn of a new era.