With late Foundation Establishment cultivation and a spiritual sense reaching the twenty-second mark of the Golden Core realm, Mo Hua could clearly feel his divine sense growing stronger after breaking through his bottleneck, expanding his Sea of Consciousness, and stabilizing his spiritual sense. Not only was his Sea of Consciousness deeper, his divine sense more resilient, and his control sharper, but he also seemed to gain a deeper understanding of Golden Core realm power in the unseen realm.

He could comprehend the power of the Golden Core realm while still in the Foundation Establishment stage. Although this power was purely at the spiritual sense level, not involving spiritual energy or vital essence, it was still extremely valuable and greatly beneficial to Mo Hua’s cultivation. Mo Hua even had a sudden illusion: due to this advanced comprehension from his transcendent spiritual sense, the bottleneck for forming his Golden Core seemed to be significantly reduced. This was because, even before his physical body formed its Golden Core, he already possessed the divine sense of a Golden Core cultivator.

“Golden Core—” Mo Hua clenched his fair hand, thinking to himself, “Only two more marks, and I can learn the Gluttony Mark, forge my Natal Spiritual Skeleton Array, and form my Golden Core. This process has been too long, too arduous, and required too much effort. I hope this forbidden Gluttonous Devouring Array of the Great Wilderness won’t disappoint me.” “Only two marks left.” Mo Hua’s eyes brightened slightly.

He had to admit that the Great Wilderness Barbarian Gods, nourished by the incense offerings from their devotees, provided truly excellent spiritual sustenance. So good, in fact, that it surprised Mo Hua. Cultivating spiritual sense to enlightenment was difficult; otherwise, he could never have advanced to the twenty-second mark in such a short time. This opportunity was precious, and he had to seize the moment to “consume” more. He needed to raise his divine sense realm as quickly as possible. Only with sufficient spiritual sense could he fully explore the infinite mysteries within the Great Wilderness Gluttonous Devouring Array and comprehend the power rules of the Golden Core realm.

The next day, in the tent, Mo Hua summoned Elder Zhamu and said, “Elder Zhamu, I need you to do something for me.” Elder Zhamu bowed, “As you command, esteemed Witch Doctor.”

Mo Hua handed a stack of parchment to Elder Zhamu: “Go investigate the mountain regions surrounding the Blackhorn Tribe. Record the location of each tribe, as well as the names, origins, and sacrificial methods of their barbarian gods, on this parchment. Bring it back to me. I will send a few people to ensure your safety. Please be careful.”

Elder Zhamu respectfully took the parchment, hesitated for a moment, and slowly said, “Esteemed Witch Doctor, may this old man ask a question?” Mo Hua nodded, “Ask.” Elder Zhamu said, “These barbarian gods… they…” Elder Zhamu suddenly paused, not daring to ask further.

Mo Hua understood his unspoken question and said solemnly, “The blessings of the barbarian gods come from the God Lord. They will all eventually return to the God Lord’s origin. This is also a form of salvation.” Elder Zhamu’s expression changed, and he slowly nodded, “This old man understands.” Elder Zhamu, holding the parchment bestowed by Mo Hua, went to “register” the barbarian gods.

Mo Hua then summoned another elder from the Blackhorn Tribe. The chief of the Blackhorn Tribe was a short-tempered, unyielding hardliner who had died in a previous battle, beheaded by Chief Wucha of the Ulu Tribe. Besides the chief, the Blackhorn Tribe had five elders. Of these five, one had died, one had fled, and among the remaining three, there was an elder named Jiaohu, who was the most senior and knowledgeable. He was the one Mo Hua had now summoned for questioning.

Elder Jiaohu, his face full of wrinkles, bowed his head and saluted Mo Hua, saying, “Esteemed Witch Doctor.” Mo Hua glanced at him and asked, “Does your Blackhorn Tribe possess the method for forging savage armor?” This was a secret of the Blackhorn Tribe, and Elder Jiaohu remained silent.

Mo Hua’s tone was indifferent. “The God Lord’s blessings require devotion. Upon the undevout, the God Lord will unleash His wrath. The God Lord’s might reaches the heavens; a mere wisp of His wrath can incinerate your Blackhorn Tribe completely.” Hearing this, Elder Jiaohu’s heart trembled. He looked up at Mo Hua’s calm yet profound eyes and felt his Sea of Consciousness oppressed, his spiritual sense stinging. He immediately dared not be negligent and respectfully said, “Yes, my Blackhorn Tribe does indeed possess the method for forging armor.”

“Where did your armor-forging method come from?” Mo Hua asked. Elder Jiaohu replied, “It has been passed down in our Blackhorn Tribe since ancient times.” “Since ancient times—” Mo Hua was somewhat surprised. “How long has your Blackhorn Tribe existed?” Elder Jiaohu said, “According to tribal records, it has been two thousand one hundred years.” Mo Hua nodded slightly. In this desolate land, where tribal conflicts and annexations were frequent, a history of two thousand years was indeed not short.

But… “After two thousand years, is your armor-forging method only at this level?” Mo Hua was a little curious. Elder Jiaohu’s cheeks flushed, clearly with shame and anger, as he argued, “This is due to our generation’s incompetence. We could not revive the glory of our ancestors, failing to forge the Blackhorn Savage Armor and raise strong Blackhorn warriors, which led to this defeat. Even our esteemed Chief suffered misfortune and was beheaded—”

Mo Hua smiled faintly, “Are you implying that I am your ‘misfortune’?” Elder Jiaohu lowered his head, stating resentfully, “I wouldn’t dare.” Mo Hua chuckled lightly, “Take me to your armor-forging place.” Elder Jiaohu hesitated for a moment, then gritted his teeth and said, “Yes, esteemed Witch Doctor.”

Elder Jiaohu led Mo Hua to a closed cave in the Blackhorn Tribe’s back mountain. This cave had now been forcibly broken open, exposing everything inside. This had happened when the Ulu Tribe was plundering the Blackhorn Tribe’s valuables. Otherwise, Elder Jiaohu would certainly have kept it secret from Mo Hua, making it impossible for him to “invite a wolf into the house” by bringing Mo Hua into this armor-forging cave.

Inside the cave were some black, durable pieces of savage armor. There were also many fragmented materials, as well as semi-finished leather and armor plating. Mo Hua quickly scanned the area, his heart stirring slightly. He had previously considered forging armor for the barbarian soldiers under his command in the Wutu Mountain Range, but when he tried, he found it unfeasible.

Firstly, he possessed knowledge of artifact refining, and his insight and vision were not bad. However, he was not an artifact refiner after all, and having been frail since childhood, he couldn’t wield a heavy hammer, lacking practical forging experience. At Taixu Sect, his artifact refining class grades were always at the bottom. So, he could draw formations, but he couldn’t actually refine artifacts himself.

Secondly, the artifact refining traditions of the Great Wilderness differed from those of the Nine Continents. The materials used, forging techniques, and quenching methods all had considerable differences. Mo Hua didn’t understand much about these either. In this remote area, he also had no way of acquiring so many refining materials, so the matter of forging weapons and armor had been temporarily put aside. However, the Blackhorn Tribe’s savage armor now offered him some opportunities and references.

Mo Hua walked around the cave, reviewing the forging process of various savage armors in his mind. He even casually dismantled some pieces of savage armor to examine their internal structure and formations. Elder Jiaohu watched from the side with great pain in his heart. These were the most precious treasures of his Blackhorn Tribe. Now, Mo Hua was examining and dismantling them as he pleased. How could he not feel bitter?

After dismantling and examining them, Mo Hua asked Elder Jiaohu, “Do you know the method for forging Blackhorn Savage Armor?” Elder Jiaohu replied, “I only know a little.” Mo Hua was somewhat surprised, “You’re an elder, and you only know a little?” He had thought that Jiaohu, being the oldest and most senior, should have mastered the Blackhorn Tribe’s most crucial secrets.

Elder Jiaohu, however, said, “The armor-forging method is our Blackhorn Tribe’s most secret inheritance, divided into eight parts. The chief held the two most crucial parts, I hold two parts, and the other four elders each hold one part. Only by piecing these together does one get the complete Blackhorn armor-forging method.” After speaking, he said with a mix of relief, schadenfreude, and bitterness, “Now, the chief has been killed by you, one elder has died, and another has fled. This armor-forging method will likely be lost forever, with no one left to know it—”

“It’s fine,” Mo Hua kindly said, “If you don’t know, I’ll tell you.” Elder Jiaohu was stunned. He had no idea what this esteemed Witch Doctor was talking about.

Mo Hua then took out paper and brush, sketching refining diagrams on the paper, drawing out the entire forging process of the Blackhorn Savage Armor, the Blackhorn Tribe’s most secret method, from beginning to end. Elder Jiaohu watched from the side, growing more alarmed with each stroke, a tempest rising in his chest. He exclaimed in shock, “This! You—how do you know this?” Mo Hua’s expression was subtle. He didn’t know why this Elder Jiaohu was so shocked about something that was obvious at a glance.

Mo Hua ignored him and continued drawing. Finally, he even casually drew the Four Symbols Horn Marks involved in the Blackhorn Savage Armor diagram. These intricate Four Symbols Horn Marks directly shattered Elder Jiaohu’s inner pride and belief. He felt as though his entire being had turned into vast, desolate dust.

Finally, he slowly raised his head, beyond shock, and looked at Mo Hua with eyes full of reverence: “You—are you truly an esteemed Witch Doctor?” Mo Hua was a little surprised: “Why, do I not look like one?” Elder Jiaohu silently looked at Mo Hua, not speaking. So young, with a face as fair and clean as the moon, and not a single savage tattoo on his entire body—where was there any resemblance to a “Witch Doctor”?

At first, he had only thought this young “Witch Doctor” was a swindler, deceiving people. Such things happened often. In this wilderness, every few decades, some people would act under the guise of “Witch Doctor,” making it hard to discern truth from falsehood. Some even genuinely believed themselves to be “Witch Doctors.” But how noble was the identity of a Witch Doctor? How difficult was it to become one? True Witch Doctors, once they mastered their craft, served the royal court. How could they possibly wander around flaunting their status? As for bringing peace and prosperity, that was utter nonsense.

But— Elder Jiaohu gazed deeply at the formation patterns drawn by Mo Hua, his expression filled with reverence, and he couldn’t help but bend at the waist and respectfully say, “This old man did indeed doubt your identity as a Witch Doctor before. However, such profound ‘Sacred Marks’ could only be drawn by true Witch Doctors who serve the royal court; it’s impossible for anyone else to draw them—”

Mo Hua’s heart stirred. Sacred Marks… Did “Sacred Marks” refer to formation patterns? Mo Hua reconsidered, thinking that this statement didn’t seem quite right either. At least the Five Elements and Eight Trigrams type of formation patterns were not considered “Sacred Marks” by the barbarians. So, did “Sacred Marks” refer to the Four Symbols Demonic Marks, which had been passed down locally in the Great Wilderness since ancient times? And the Four Sacred Beast Marks, which originated from the Four Symbols Demonic Marks and served as the source of the Four Symbols?

Mo Hua nodded slightly. If he thought about it that way, it made sense. The title of “Witch Doctor” could be faked, but Sacred Marks could not. After all, formations were very complex; if you didn’t know them, you just didn’t, no matter what. Therefore, being able to draw “Sacred Marks” was the most convincing proof. Moreover, come to think of it, Four Symbols formation patterns, being associated with “demons,” indeed seemed to be something few dared to learn. At the time, in the Qianxue Province, the only one who could truly be considered proficient in Four Symbols Demonic Marks was Mr. Tu. Other evil formation masters had at most learned scattered fragments. He himself truly seemed to possess the qualifications of a “Witch Doctor.” Mo Hua’s expression was calm; he said nothing more. Elder Jiaohu observed Mo Hua’s composed demeanor and became even more convinced.

Mo Hua then asked, “Is this all of your Blackhorn Tribe’s armor-forging method?” Elder Jiaohu replied, “Reporting to esteemed Witch Doctor, this is all there is.” Seeing Mo Hua’s seemingly displeased expression, Elder Jiaohu quickly explained: “Our Blackhorn Tribe was once a great tribe, flourishing for a time, and our Blackhorn Savage Warriors struck fear into all who heard of them. However, over two millennia, we gradually declined, our tribesmen scattered, and some of our armor-forging inheritances were seized by other tribes, which led to our current downfall—”

Mo Hua nodded slightly and handed the savage armor blueprint in his hand to Elder Jiaohu: “This is for you. Forge three sets of savage armor for me within ten days.” Elder Jiaohu’s expression showed surprise, “Esteemed Witch Doctor, are you giving this old man the Blackhorn Savage Armor blueprint?” “Mm.” Mo Hua nodded. Elder Jiaohu respectfully received it with both hands raised above his head, his hands trembling slightly. This was a complete savage armor blueprint, one that even the Blackhorn Tribe’s chief had not been qualified to possess before. “Within ten days, I will surely give the esteemed Witch Doctor a satisfactory result,” Elder Jiaohu said. “Good.” Mo Hua nodded.

Elder Jiaohu, holding the armor blueprint, was about to leave when Mo Hua suddenly called him back and asked, “There’s one more thing.” Elder Jiaohu flinched. Mo Hua slowly said, “Have you hidden the Blackhorn Tribe’s children?” Elder Jiaohu was startled and immediately knelt down, “Esteemed Witch Doctor—”

Mo Hua did not blame Elder Jiaohu. In tribal warfare, where it was a matter of survival or annihilation, secretly hiding some talented children as “embers” of hope was only natural. Of course, he didn’t blame Elder Jiaohu. But he needed to get his hands on this group of children. Children were highly malleable, especially those who were young, pure-hearted, and talented. To Mo Hua, they were the most precious “treasures.”

“Where are the children?” Mo Hua asked. Elder Jiaohu remained silent. Although he had already recognized Mo Hua as an esteemed “Witch Doctor,” he still dared not speak freely about this matter. The children were the hope of his Blackhorn Tribe. And no one knew what this young Witch Doctor was truly thinking. Nor did they know which God Lord this Witch Doctor believed in, or what divine path he followed. If this Witch Doctor, like other sinister Witch Doctors, took these Blackhorn children for sacrifice, alchemy, or raising Gu, or even “consumed” them for his own cultivation, then the Blackhorn Tribe would never have a future.

But looking at Mo Hua’s eyes, which seemed to penetrate people’s hearts, Elder Jiaohu’s heart suddenly grew cold. The Witch Doctor’s mention of these children clearly implied that he already knew where they were. In other words, the Blackhorn Tribe’s children were already in the hands of this Witch Doctor. Elder Jiaohu’s face turned pale. He knelt down trembling, but didn’t know what to say, only pleading, “Esteemed Witch Doctor—please let these children live—”

Mo Hua sighed inwardly. Although he “consumed” barbarian gods, he didn’t “consume” children. Mo Hua said, “Children are the future of the tribe. I will personally instruct them. If there are any with outstanding talent and diligent effort, I will teach them the Sacred Marks of the Great Wilderness.”

Sacred Marks?! Elder Jiaohu’s heart was shocked; he found it hard to believe. Could Sacred Marks also be taught? Did this esteemed Witch Doctor truly wield such great authority?! Was he perhaps deceiving himself? But if he truly intended to teach Sacred Marks, wouldn’t this be… a blessing the Blackhorn Tribe hadn’t encountered in a thousand years? But…

Elder Jiaohu’s heart was torn between worry and ecstasy, wavering. A moment later, seeing Mo Hua grow somewhat impatient, he was startled. Knowing that things had come to this and he had no room to refuse, he said with a bitter heart and bowing his head, “Thank you for your generosity, esteemed Witch Doctor. I will bring the children over now—”

Mo Hua nodded. Elder Jiaohu withdrew and, a moment later, brought more than forty children. These children, dressed in animal skins, were all dirty, their faces showing either bewilderment, indignation, or fear. But without exception, their vital essence was healthy, their physiques strong, and their aptitudes good. Old Elder Jiaohu, by hiding these children, had truly put in much effort for the sake of his tribe.

Elder Jiaohu looked at the children with eyes full of reluctance, then looked up at Mo Hua, his expression torn. Mo Hua simply said, “Don’t worry,” comforting Elder Jiaohu before sending him off to forge the Blackhorn Savage Armor. Afterward, Mo Hua had Xiao Zhatu take these forty-plus Blackhorn children to be cleaned and fed them some food, then gathered them again. After washing off the grime and eating, the children’s emotions stabilized. Furthermore, Mo Hua’s clear, bright eyes and handsome, amiable face made the children feel a sense of closeness.

Mo Hua said gently, “From this day forward, you will follow me, study and learn, and cultivate your minds. Be friendly to each other, do not insult or fight amongst yourselves, and do not harbor private resentment. If anyone shows extraordinary talent and diligent effort, I will personally teach them Sacred Marks.” The children didn’t quite know what “Sacred Marks” were, but they vaguely understood that it must be an extremely high-level art. In ordinary barbarian tribes, most people’s cultivation consisted of fighting and killing. The inheritance of cultivation methods was extremely scarce. Those who could read barbarian script, understand spells, and various shamanic arts were very few. Not to mention, a sublime inheritance like “Sacred Marks.”

The children present responded, their voices scattered. But these children didn’t know how to address Mo Hua. At this moment, an older, taller Blackhorn child, seemingly already aware of Mo Hua’s identity, cupped his hands and bowed to Mo Hua, saying, “Yes, esteemed Witch Doctor.” The other children also cupped their hands, saying, “Yes, esteemed Witch Doctor.”

“Witch Doctor.” Mo Hua nodded. A moment later, with a slight shift in his thoughts, he said, “You are different from others. You don’t need to call me ‘esteemed Witch Doctor.’ You can call me—Xiankang.”

The Blackhorn children were pleased by this and then cupped their hands, saying in unison, “Yes, Xiankang.”