Outside Baiguling, the Danque tribe was engaged in battle with the Shugu tribe.

Chifeng, Danzhu, and other heavily armored soldiers of the Danque tribe were clashing with the Shugu Four Fiends and other Shugu barbarians led by Shugu Jindan.

Lugu stood by, observing with cold eyes. His only aim was to make the Danque tribe submit. Now that he had killed the Great Chieftain, used Tieshugu’s life to awaken the ancestor, and cursed Mo Hua to death, he only needed to subdue these members of the Danque tribe to achieve his goal.

Danzhu, Chifeng, Canggu, the Great Chieftain, and even that demon shaman, had all become stepping stones for him. What he had done was to go with the flow and become the one who “picked the fruit.” Now that the dust was about to settle, he would initially complete the unification of the Shugu tribe and also conquer a part of the Danque tribe’s forces.

However, Lugu did not truly intend to kill Danzhu and the others. He greatly admired Danzhu’s talent and temperament. Danzhu was like a flawless jade, possessing qualities that other barbarian cultivators, even some so-called barbarian “geniuses,” lacked: kindness and integrity, like a natural “Zhuque,” with a fervent heart. That demon shaman had earnestly taught him, regarding him as a “disciple.” Even Lugu couldn’t bear to kill him.

He intended to injure Chifeng, trap the barbarian soldiers of the Danque tribe, and use these barbarians to force Danzhu into submission, making him serve Lugu. Danzhu’s kindness was his biggest weakness. By threatening the lives of those close to him, Lugu was confident Danzhu would submit. Even if it was only superficial submission, it didn’t matter; he would take his time to gradually train him, and one day Danzhu would serve him, becoming his right-hand man.

Danzhu was heavily surrounded by Shugu barbarian soldiers, engaged in a bitter struggle. His Zhuque Xuanhuo Lingyi still shone brilliantly like flowing fire, but his handsome face was as pale as paper, with a trace of blood at the corner of his mouth.

Seeing Danzhu growing weary from the prolonged battle, Lugu said in a deep voice, “Danzhu, submit to me.”

Danzhu sneered, “You murdered my master. Sooner or later, I will kill you.”

Lugu’s expression was indifferent. “Your master is a demon, not a human at all.”

Danzhu shook his head. “Master is master.”

A fierce glint flashed in Lugu’s eyes. “Stubborn fool.” He lost his patience, pulling out his enormous Demon-Slaying Bone Saber, intending to personally defeat Danzhu, imprison him, and then slowly tame him.

But at that very moment, an unusual aura emanated from the depths of the Baiguling Tomb, an eerie solemnity filling the entire hall. Everyone’s expressions changed, and they involuntarily stopped their actions, turning to look.

They saw above the tomb, like white bone epiphyllum blooming, dense clusters of white bone claws appeared, looking both magnificent and eerie. These white bone claws slowly unfurled from the inside out, and an elusive power of karmic death curses emanated within the hall.

This scene shocked everyone.

“This is—the ancestor is angry?”

“The curse is spreading?”

All the Shugu people turned pale. They did not understand the methods of karma, but according to the tribal records, they knew this was the ancestor’s “cursing and slaying” technique. The consequences of being caught by these white bone claws were clear without needing to think. The ancestor’s blessings were endless, and the ancestor’s wrath was equally terrifying.

Ignoring their battle, everyone was about to retreat when suddenly, someone with sharp eyes pointed towards the depths of Baiguling and said with a trembling voice, “That is—a person?!”

The Shugu tribe members looked in the direction indicated and saw a figure slowly emerging from the white bones in the depths of the tomb. It was as if a saint had walked out of a purgatory of white bones, out of death itself.

“The ancestor has awakened?”

Everyone was about to show reverence, but they quickly realized something was amiss. This figure was too slender, not like their ancestor, but rather like—

Everyone exchanged bewildered glances, their hearts filled with disbelief. Soon, the figure gradually became clear, revealing a delicate but resolute form, a fair complexion, and deep, luminous eyes. The faces of the Shugu tribe members changed dramatically.

But Danzhu, along with the members of the Danque tribe, looked ecstatic and exclaimed in unison:

“Master!”

“Shaman Lord!”

“Shaman Lord is not dead!”

Amidst the exclamations of the Danque tribe, the Shugu tribe members were all shaken and disturbed.

“The Shugu ancestor’s curse—it didn’t harm him?! Could it be—”

Mo Hua’s eyes were resolute as he stepped out of the Baiguling Tomb. White bone claws, like blooming white bone flowers, supported him step by step as he walked forward. He moved in and out of the Baiguling Tomb freely, with the curse flowers accompanying him.

Mo Hua walked before everyone and slowly said, “I have spoken with your ancestor—”

Mo Hua’s expression was solemn. “From now on, all descendants of the Shugu tribe must honor the name of the Divine Lord and obey my commands. Otherwise, it will be a violation of ancestral teachings, and they will not be permitted to meet the ancestor after death.”

As soon as these words were uttered, the Shugu tribe was in an uproar. There was shock, doubt, anger, and also those who felt awe and wavered. Just as someone was about to reprimand Mo Hua for spreading rumors and desecrating their Shugu ancestor, a cold aura suddenly spread throughout the field. A “creaking” sound was heard, and everyone looked again to see Tieshugu, who had supposedly died, slowly beginning to tremble and, with an awkward motion, remove the sacrificial dagger from his chest. His chest was black, with not a single drop of blood flowing out. But a faint expression slowly appeared on Tieshugu’s pale face. It was as if he had “returned to life” from hell, with a hint of bewilderment still lingering on his face.

Then, under everyone’s astonished gaze, the “resurrected” Tieshugu limped towards Mo Hua and slowly knelt down before him, saying devoutly:

“Sinner Tieshugu thanks Shaman Lord for saving his life. By the ancestor’s command, I swear eternal loyalty to Shaman Lord, to go through fire and water without hesitation. I implore Shaman Lord to save the Shugu tribe from disaster during this famine and ensure the continuation of the Shugu bloodline—”

Tieshugu’s words were calm and devout, filled with reverence. This scene and these words also stirred up feelings of shock in the hearts of the Shugu tribe members. Tieshugu, who had sacrificed his life—was he not dead after all?! Had Shaman Lord reclaimed Tieshugu’s life from the ancestor? The ancestor had commanded Tieshugu to be loyal to Shaman Lord. The ancestor had even entrusted Shaman Lord with saving the Shugu tribe from disaster?!

If this had happened elsewhere, they might have been suspicious, but this was their Shugu tribe’s ancestral tomb. Mo Hua had emerged from the Baiguling Tomb, from the brink of life and death, from the ancestor’s “grave.” The image of white bones blooming like flowers, highlighting his presence, was still vivid in their minds.

Shock appeared on everyone’s faces. Immediately afterward, many Shugu barbarian soldiers involuntarily knelt to the ground, offering Mo Hua the highest reverence:

“Shaman Lord is sagacious!”

“We beg Shaman Lord to save us from disaster!”

Faith, like a spark, ignited in the hearts of the Shugu tribe members, eventually bursting into a blazing inferno. More and more Shugu tribesmen, like “dominoes,” knelt before Mo Hua one after another, chanting:

“Shaman Lord is sagacious!”

“May Shaman Lord save us from disaster!”

The praises, like a mountain tsunami, swept through the entire Baiguling. More and more people knelt on the ground, first the barbarian soldiers, then the heavy armored soldiers. Swept up by this momentum, soon the Jindan cultivators of the Shugu tribe also couldn’t help but kneel, and a feeling of faith naturally arose in their hearts.

Finally, everyone knelt on the ground, shouting, “Shaman Lord is sagacious.”

The only one standing was Lugu. He was a great general, and soon to be the Great Chieftain of the Shugu tribe. But his attendants, his troops, his subordinates, his barbarian soldiers, his tribesmen, all knelt before Mo Hua. In front of Mo Hua, who was being worshipped by tens of thousands, Lugu’s tall and mighty figure appeared exceptionally lonely and small.

The will of the people, the reverence of the troops, the ancestor’s entrustment. Lugu’s expression began to twist, his heart writhing in pain. Finally, the overarching situation overwhelmed his pride. Lugu took a deep breath, and with a desolate figure, knelt on one knee before Mo Hua.

At this point, in the Shugu tribe’s Baiguling, under the witness of the Shugu ancestor, everyone in the Shugu tribe, from the great generals to the barbarian soldiers, from the late Jindan cultivators to the ordinary Foundation Establishment barbarian cultivators, all knelt before Mo Hua, the sacred and solemn “Shaman Lord.”

Lugu knelt before Mo Hua, but that didn’t mean he truly intended to submit. Mo Hua knew this well and said nothing. From then on, Lugu also did not seek out Mo Hua.

It wasn’t until three days later, at dawn, when Mo Hua, who had practiced array formations all night, opened his eyes to see a towering figure standing outside. Unsurprisingly, it was Lugu.

“Come in,” Mo Hua said.

With Mo Hua’s permission, Lugu entered the room. At this moment, his expression was not only much more respectful, but his body also carried a hint of vigilance. This was the vigilance one had when facing a “stronger” and “superior” person. Lugu stood before Mo Hua without saying a word.

Mo Hua looked up at him and said indifferently, “Your ancestor gave you a dream?”

Lugu’s expression subtly changed, and he slowly said, “Yes—” He was about to ask Mo Hua how he had managed to bewitch the ancestor. But then he reconsidered and thought it impossible. The ancestor possessed ancient heritage and immense divine power; how could he be bewitched by a “demon”? If this “demon” truly possessed the ability to bewitch the Shugu ancestor, then conversely, this “demon” might not be an evil spirit. Instead, it could truly be a divine shaman, possessing divine power and walking in the present-day Great Wilderness.

Lugu unconsciously thought this way, but his pride refused to acknowledge it. He stubbornly believed that Mo Hua, with his fair face and dark heart, was an evil demon and could not be associated with a great deity in any way. Especially—

Lugu thought of the tall, eerie corpse behind Mo Hua, and he thought of his brother, who found no peace even in death. His face became as dark as water.

Mo Hua seemed to see through Lugu’s thoughts at a glance and slowly said, “Are you still bothered by what happened to your brother?”

Lugu remained silent, but the clear hatred in his eyes already spoke volumes.

Mo Hua asked indifferently, “If your brother were buried underground now, would you be satisfied?”

Lugu said coldly, “To be buried in peace, at least he wouldn’t be disturbed, much less treated as a ‘puppet’ and manipulated by others.”

Mo Hua asked him, “Then what?”

Lugu frowned. “What then?”

Mo Hua’s voice was indifferent. “What good is being buried in peace? What does it matter if no one disturbs him? Is your brother an ordinary person? Does he need peace after death?”

Lugu was startled.

Mo Hua continued, “Let me ask you another question—if your brother were to die like this now, buried underground, his body left to rot, his life’s achievements sealed by his epitaph, how would the people of the Great Wilderness view him?”

Lugu was somewhat stunned.

Mo Hua’s tone was icy. “Others would only consider him a failure, a mediocre leader, a general who accomplished nothing, a foolish brute with cultivation who died due to schemes and plots.”

“Shut up!” Lugu was furious, his eyes bloodshot, like an enraged beast, staring intently at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua’s expression was calm, unmoved by Lugu’s anger. He simply said, “You can be angry, you can rage, but what’s the use?”

“Idle talk abounds. Facts need no refutation; your brother’s actions were just so. People will only see him as a failure. His name still holds some prestige now, but in just ten years, it will gradually fade. After a hundred years, it will be swallowed by dust, and no one will mention it again.”

“Is this the ‘peace after death’ you desire?”

“Peace after death also means—obscurity.”

Mo Hua looked at Lugu with a calm gaze.

The anger on Lugu’s face gradually faded, replaced by clear pain and the sorrow of an unsung hero. Mo Hua remained silent for a moment, then slowly spoke again:

“But—now that his corpse is in my hands, it’s completely different—”

Lugu froze, looking up at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua’s voice was calm, with a hint of coldness. “In due time, I will ask the Divine Lord to grant your brother a destiny. Your brother is dead, but he can still ‘live’ again, in another way, to conquer all directions.”

“His remains can still walk upon the lands of the Great Wilderness.”

“His physical body will crush all enemies of the Divine Lord.”

“Even if he is dead, and only a ‘corpse’ remains, he can still have a chance to ‘achieve great deeds,’ still have a chance to establish immortal merits in the Great Wilderness, allowing his achievements and prestige to be passed down forever—”

“He will expand the Divine Lord’s territory and unify the Great Wilderness.”

“The entire wilderness, for generations and millennia, will praise your brother’s name.”

“If it were you, how would you choose?”

Mo Hua’s words were forceful and resonant. Great waves surged in Lugu’s heart, feeling as if his grand ambition burned like a fierce fire in his chest.

“Even if he is dead, and only a corpse remains, he can still achieve great deeds, still accomplish the great feats he couldn’t complete in life—”

This sentence echoed repeatedly in Lugu’s ears. Lugu suppressed his surging ambition and knelt on one knee before Mo Hua. This time, he knelt sincerely. He no longer cared about what Mo Hua had done to his brother; on the contrary, at this moment, his heart was filled with gratitude.

“Thank you—Shaman Lord—”

“Lugu, and all of Shugu, are willing to fight to the death for Shaman Lord, to be broken into pieces, without hesitation.”

Mo Hua looked at Lugu, who knelt on one knee before him and made his vow, his gaze deep, and slowly nodded.