Of course, it was still too early to speak of establishing a legacy.

Mo Hua turned his head, surveying the remnants of the barbarian troops before him, and shook his head inwardly.

With the Great Wilderness in rebellion and the Royal Court conscripting soldiers, the elite barbarian cultivators from the three thousand tribes had all been taken like ripe crops. What was left for him were mostly ‘substandard’ individuals, uneven in quality and unsatisfactory in aptitude. Moreover, these two hundred barbarian cultivators came from different tribes, with varying customs, beliefs, and attire. Even their heights, weights, and body shapes differed, making them look like a band of ragtag soldiers.

He had used force to intimidate and coerce these cultivators into joining him. They lacked unity and had virtually no coordinated combat ability. As for their weapons and armor, they were extremely crude. During combat, the barbarian beast-pattern formations used were of low quality and pitifully few in number. The total number of barbarian formations and their patterns combined was fewer than the fingers on Mo Hua’s one hand.

There were only three to five Foundation Establishment cultivators in total, and all were at the initial stage. From the perspective of a small tribe in the Great Wilderness, this might have been sufficient, but in Mo Hua’s eyes, they were nothing more than a band of shrimp soldiers and crab generals.

However, with his venture just starting, he couldn’t afford to be so demanding. There were still many things to prepare. Training soldiers, forging armor, carving formations—these would have to be done gradually, step by step.

Mo Hua’s next plan was to attack the Uluru tribe and completely unify this mountain region.

The Three Thousand Great Mountains did not have the concept of ‘prefectural boundaries’; instead, there were ‘mountain boundaries.’ Natural mountain boundaries served as demarcation lines, distinguishing regions by their quality or rank. In the Nine Provinces, the names of ‘prefectural boundaries’ were fixed and had been used since ancient times. But in the Great Wilderness, the names of ‘mountain boundaries’ could not be fixed.

Originally, within a mountain boundary, the strongest tribe would lend its name to the boundary. But because the Great Wilderness was tumultuous and chaotic, with tribes large and small merging and separating, rising and falling frequently, the names of ‘mountain boundaries’ also changed repeatedly. It was even possible for a single mountain boundary to have dozens of different names within a few decades, leading to extreme confusion in designation. Gradually, no tribes bothered to name ‘mountain boundaries’ anymore.

Barbarians generally lived only in established customary areas, earning a living nearby and remaining relatively isolated. Unless forced by necessity to migrate, tribes rarely traveled far. As a result, the concept of ‘mountain boundaries’ gradually faded.

It was said that previously, when the Daoist Court entered the Great Wilderness, it had attempted to redefine ‘prefectural boundaries’ in the Three Thousand Great Wildernesses to divide regions, but this was met with strong rejection from the barbarians. Furthermore, this initiative faced numerous difficulties in terms of language, customs, boundary demarcation, and naming, making it virtually impossible to implement. Forcing it through would waste manpower and achieve little, and the barbarians themselves did not recognize the Daoist Court’s divisions. Over time, the matter was dropped.

All this information had been told to Mo Hua by Elder Zamu.

The Uluru tribe was the strongest tribe in the mountain region where Mo Hua was located. Mo Hua had gained a deep impression of the tribe when he had previously gone “hunting” in the Uluru tribe and secretly consumed their barbarian god. They were warlike, bloodthirsty, cruel, and indiscriminate killers. Furthermore, the tribe had a large population, with nearly two thousand barbarian cultivators. Three of them were late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators, and another twenty were early- and mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivators. In this vicinity, they were indeed a formidable force.

And this was the remaining combat strength of the Uluru tribe after the Great Wilderness Royal Court’s conscription. Otherwise, the Uluru tribe’s strength would have been even greater.

Therefore, when Mo Hua revealed his intention to attack the Uluru tribe, he naturally met with opposition from his subordinate barbarian elder cultivators. Although Mo Hua’s status was noble and his cultivation profound, the Uluru tribe’s strength was equally terrifying. Furthermore, the Uluru tribe had too many people, and they were bloody and warlike. Relying on their two hundred ‘rabble’ to attack the Uluru tribe was undoubtedly seeking death. If a real fight broke out, it was unknown how many would return alive.

Fearing Mo Hua’s authority, these elders from smaller tribes who had submitted did not dare to openly object. They merely murmured discouraging words, hoping to curb the Witch Doctor’s overconfidence.

Elder Zamu was equally worried and also felt that they should not provoke the formidable Uluru tribe. He knew the Uluru tribe’s bloody ferocity all too well. However, he was, after all, the first elder to submit to Mo Hua. Therefore, when other elders objected, he remained silent.

Mo Hua’s expression was calm. He deliberately waited for everyone to voice their objections for a while, then asked Elder Zamu, who had remained silent:

“Elder Zamu, what are your thoughts?”

Elder Zamu looked at Mo Hua, pondered for a long time, sighed inwardly, and respectfully cupped his hands, saying: “My Wutu tribe is willing to go through fire and water for the Witch Doctor, without regret even if it means death. As for attacking Uluru, we will abide by the Witch Doctor’s decision.”

Once the arrow is shot, there’s no turning back. Since he had agreed to submit to the Witch Doctor, he naturally had to support all the Witch Doctor’s intentions. The more others opposed, the more he, as a ‘supporter,’ had to step forward and show his support.

Mo Hua nodded slightly. “Elder Zamu’s words are reasonable. It is decided then: we will attack the Uluru tribe in three days.”

Other tribal elders wanted to object. Mo Hua merely glanced at him. These elders felt their entire bodies tremble and dared not speak again. Everyone could only cup their hands and say, “Yes, Witch Doctor.”

“We will obey the Witch Doctor’s command.”

Afterwards, the elders dispersed. Elder Zamu stayed behind, glanced at Mo Hua, but ultimately asked nothing. He simply bowed respectfully and then turned to leave.

That very night, news of the attack on the Uluru tribe spread, immediately causing commotion. An elder from a small tribe and about a dozen barbarian cultivators became ‘deserters’. They feared the Uluru tribe. At the same time, they did not want to follow Mo Hua—this blindly selfish, foolishly arrogant, self-proclaimed ‘Witch Doctor’ pretty boy—to their deaths.

Mo Hua showed no mercy. He immediately ordered his men to seize these deserters, chop off their heads, and hang them outside the camp tents as a warning. A benevolent leader does not command troops. If this were the Nine Provinces, he would be more lenient. But this was the Great Wilderness, and barbarian cultivators were inherently savage; he would not show the slightest leniency. The heads of these deserters indeed served as a bloody warning. For the time being, no one dared to become a ‘deserter’ again.

But this also served as a reminder to Mo Hua. When people were not united, a team was truly difficult to lead. Fighting alone, or collaborating with a few intelligent individuals and experts, was completely different from strategizing with a team of ‘useless teammates’; the concept and difficulty were entirely different. At present, he was merely attacking a minor Uluru tribe, and deserters had appeared even before the battle began. What would happen if he later attacked larger, stronger tribes? Wouldn’t it be that at the first sign of trouble, his subordinates would all immediately flee?

Mo Hua’s brows furrowed slightly. Although the situation hadn’t reached that point yet, it was essential to prepare for unforeseen circumstances. He needed to establish prestige, consolidate loyalty, and cultivate combat power. At the same time, his own forces were currently in the ‘initial’ stage, so he needed to preserve his strength; these ‘ragtag soldiers’ could not be allowed to die carelessly.

Mo Hua carefully reconsidered the situation of the Uluru tribe. Objectively speaking, the Uluru tribe’s forces were indeed very strong and not easy to deal with. The most troublesome aspect here was not ‘killing’ but ‘subduing’. To kill the Uluru tribe’s barbarian cultivators, even if it meant slaughtering the entire tribe, was actually not difficult for Mo Hua. Whether by using formations for large-scale slaughter, or by taking time to pick them off one by one with spells, it was not difficult. After all, the Uluru tribe’s highest-cultivation elder was only at the late Foundation Establishment stage, which was nothing in Mo Hua’s eyes.

But the problem was that he could not engage in extensive slaughter; otherwise, if his ‘Life Fiend’ were triggered, he would again face the risk of amnesia and his Uncle-Master’s descent. Furthermore, if he killed everyone in the Uluru tribe, he would have no manpower left. This territory would have been conquered for nothing. This would also go against his original intention.

How to deter over two thousand barbarian cultivators while killing few or none became another very tricky matter. If he failed to deter them, he himself would not be in danger, but the cultivators from the Wutu tribe, Elder Zamu, and the two hundred barbarian cultivators he had gathered from other small tribes would certainly be massacred by the cruel Uluru barbarians. But not taking these two hundred ragtag soldiers with him was also not an option. Without leading them to battle everywhere, establishing prestige, and cultivating a sense of fighting together, these ragtag soldiers would remain nothing more than a scattered mess and a heap of waste. Without people he had cultivated himself, he could not establish a force, and all his schemes would remain empty talk.

After all, he was now a person with the ‘ambition’ to change the status quo and establish a legacy. He was no longer satisfied with merely sustaining himself. He couldn’t always undertake many things alone. Especially if, in the later stages of the campaign, conflicts and wars with larger tribes were involved, his individual role would be limited; he would still ultimately need his barbarian soldiers to charge into battle.

Mo Hua sighed softly, then composed himself, and began to consider all the matters he might encounter in ‘attacking’ the Uluru tribe. He meticulously deduced these possibilities to make thorough preparations.

Three days later, the two hundred barbarian cultivators began their march, advancing towards the ferocious Uluru tribe. Everyone’s faces were ashen, as if they had just lost a parent. Some even had dim eyes, looking as if they were about to die. Even Elder Zamu, who was supposedly most ‘loyal’ to Mo Hua, had a solemn expression. Only young Zhatu, who followed behind Mo Hua, holding the Witch Doctor’s banner for him, was strutting proudly with a look of self-satisfaction.

Ten li away from the Uluru tribe, an extremely strong smell of blood emanated. On both sides of the road, severed heads were displayed, covered in minced flesh. Some barbarian cultivators in the team felt their legs give way, collapsing to the ground, barely able to walk. The rest of the people also looked terrified and fearful. One barbarian cultivator, overcome by fear, still became a deserter. He was caught by Elder Zamu and stabbed to death with a spear. No one dared to flee again, but the mood within the team instantly became tense again.

It was at this moment that Mo Hua’s calm and solemn voice resonated in the ears of every barbarian cultivator: “You obey my summons as the Witch Doctor, to fight for the Divine Lord. Even if you die, you will receive the Divine Lord’s blessing. But if you flee, you will be considered to have betrayed the Divine Lord, and after death, you will be cast into the Great Wilderness Purgatory, to suffer eternal damnation.” Mo Hua’s voice seemed to carry a magical power, exuding irresistible authority.

At these words, everyone’s hearts were filled with terror, and they prostrated themselves, no longer daring to harbor thoughts of escape.

Mo Hua nodded, then, draped in his black robe, with a solemn expression, he walked with steady steps at the forefront of the group. Seeing this, the two hundred barbarian cultivators could not help but follow closely behind Mo Hua.

After advancing another ten li, they arrived before the Uluru tribe’s settlement. Dozens of Uluru barbarian cultivators, having already detected their approach, were guarding the tribal gates.

Mo Hua pointed a hand. “Attack the gates.”

The two hundred barbarian cultivators behind him hesitated for a moment, then, one after another, raised their bone knives and bone spears, charging towards the Uluru tribe’s gates. Both sides engaged in a chaotic battle for about a hundred rounds. Two or three of the two hundred barbarian cultivators were killed or wounded, after which they breached the Uluru encampment gates, and everyone entered the stockade.

Inside the stockade was a large square. A blood-red wolf god statue, mighty and ferocious, stood in the center of the square. Around it, severed limbs were scattered everywhere, flesh was rotting, and the stench of blood was pungent. At this time, most of the Uluru tribe’s cultivators were gathered in the square. The three leading figures were precisely the Uluru tribe’s three strongest late-stage Foundation Establishment barbarian cultivators. One was the chieftain, and the other two were high-ranking elders.

Behind Mo Hua, the Uluru encampment gates slowly closed. Seven or eight hundred Uluru barbarian cultivators wielding blood-stained blades gathered around, completely surrounding Mo Hua and his group. Clearly, the Uluru tribe had long known that Mo Hua was coming to attack them, and had therefore deliberately let Mo Hua and his group in, to ‘close the door and beat the dog.’

Instantly, the atmosphere became extremely tense and heavy. The numerous Uluru barbarian cultivators wielding blood-stained blades had bloodthirsty glints in their eyes. As for the barbarian cultivators from various tribes behind Mo Hua, their courage and loyalty had long faded, and all of them looked uneasy and fearful. Only Mo Hua’s expression remained as calm as ever.

The Uluru chieftain, tall and covered in blood-red tattoos, with brown eyes like a beast, stared intently at Mo Hua for a moment, then spoke in a hoarse voice: “Are you that damn Witch Doctor?”

Mo Hua’s expression was pious as he said: “I have been ordered by the Divine Lord to subdue your Uluru tribe. Kneel and submit quickly to avoid the suffering of damnation.”

The Uluru chieftain chuckled: “You’re trying to pull a fast one on me—with your callow appearance, you dare to call yourself a Witch Doctor, and dare to speak of a Divine Lord? Do you really think my Uluru tribe is full of fools?”

Mo Hua shook his head, pointing a finger at the Uluru chieftain, and accused: “You are not pious.”