Mo Hua’s eyes narrowed slightly.

He had always said that the Great Wilderness was the stronghold of evil gods, so logically, there was no way such beings wouldn’t be present here. Even if the legends of the Great Wilderness spoke of the Divine Lord’s silence and lack of response, it was still impossible for there to be no trace of such beings at all.

He just wondered if this wisp of “evil god” aura belonged to his old friend, the “Lord of the Great Wilderness,” or to a new evil god.

Mo Hua sniffed again, then slowly shook his head.

What a pity.

The scent was too faint; even he, an experienced “foodie,” couldn’t distinguish it.

“He needed to find a way to discover which evil god this was.” Mo Hua thought to himself.

Without further delay, he turned and left the small cave, walking over to Dan Zhu and the others.

Dan Zhu asked, “Sir, in the cave—”

Mo Hua replied, “It’s fine now.”

The leader of the Bone Skill Tribe had initially worn a grim and shifting expression, but seeing Mo Hua emerge unharmed from the Barbarian God’s cave, his face instantly paled, and his resolve wavered.

“Impossible! This is Lord Barbarian God’s forbidden place; how could you be unharmed?”

“Impossible—”

“Lord Barbarian God is great, immortal, and inviolable. Could he have—”

The Bone Skill Tribe leader’s faith began to waver. He felt that the exalted Lord Barbarian God might not be as inviolable as he once believed.

However, he quickly cast aside this disrespectful “heretical thought.”

“No, Lord Barbarian God is omniscient and omnipotent. Lord Barbarian God will surely cast a curse and kill this boy….” The Bone Skill Tribe leader muttered to himself.

Meanwhile, Dan Zhu surveyed the scene: scattered body parts on the ground, and human arms and legs hanging over the campfire. He felt a wave of nausea, and a pang of pain. These were all members of his Vermilion Sparrow Tribe. Now, his tribesmen had met such a tragic end.

“Gather all the bodies of our tribesmen and bury them together on the hillside, erecting a tribal monument.” Dan Zhu said with a solemn expression.

“Yes, Young Master.”

The other tribesmen began to collect the bodies for a mass burial, as Dan Zhu had instructed.

About half an hour later, everything was done. Though Dan Zhu’s mood remained heavy, he also let out a small sigh of relief. This was his first time leading a punitive expedition. Although the enemies weren’t exceptionally strong, he had, nonetheless, completed his mission, wiped out the remnants of the Bone Skill Tribe, and avenged his brutally murdered tribesmen.

“Young Master, the matter is settled. Let’s return to the main tribe and report to the Great Chief,” Elder Bachuan said from the side.

“Hm,” Dan Zhu nodded.

Mo Hua, however, thought to himself, “This is not good.”

He had gone to great lengths to “lure” Dan Zhu out of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, so he naturally couldn’t let him return so easily. Otherwise, all his plans would be ruined.

The barbarian gods of Rank Three great tribes were heavily guarded. To “consume” the barbarian gods of these tribes, stealth was no longer an option; he would have to openly attack and conquer their territories. Such direct assaults involving major powers meant Mo Hua alone certainly wouldn’t have the strength; he would have to rely on Dan Zhu and the power of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe.

Dan Zhu, the Young Master of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, a cultivation genius who had formed his Core at twenty, clad in the magical Vermilion Sparrow Profound Fire Feather Robe, was the perfect choice for “attacking and conquering territories.” What’s more, he now had a Core Formation guard and a Barbarian General with him, along with a hundred elite barbarian soldiers. This was an extremely powerful fighting force. As long as they avoided engaging the main forces of a great tribe, they would be formidable enough to sweep through the Rank Three mountain region.

This way, Dan Zhu would conquer tribes, expand his territory, and develop his influence. Then, he would improve people’s livelihoods, widely spread education, and change the landscape of the Great Wilderness. Meanwhile, Mo Hua would secretly “consume” barbarian gods in the background, enhance his spiritual sense, and prepare for Core Formation. It could be said to kill three birds with one stone.

If Dan Zhu returned to the tribe, all these plans would fall apart.

Mo Hua looked around, then suddenly noticed something unusual. He said, “Something’s wrong.”

Dan Zhu, somewhat puzzled, asked, “Sir, what’s wrong?”

Mo Hua replied, “The numbers are off.”

“Numbers?”

Mo Hua’s eyes narrowed. “The number of people used for ‘human barbecue’ is too few—”

The roving Bone Skill Tribe consisted of about six or seven people gathered around a campfire. These six or seven people could, at most, “consume” one person. Even if they ate for a whole day, they would have “consumed” at most thirty to forty people. However, they had abducted many more young, strong Vermilion Sparrow tribesmen, likely close to a hundred, and all those people were now missing.

Mo Hua explained his suspicions.

Dan Zhu understood at once, but then looked at Mo Hua, finding it incredible. They found such acts of cannibalism disgusting and cruel, and would never bother to count the bodies. Yet, Mr. Wu had merely glanced and already calculated the “cannibalism” with startling clarity. This extreme calmness sent an inexplicable chill down Dan Zhu’s spine.

Nevertheless, Mr. Wu’s words were nothing short of good news to him.

Dan Zhu asked, “Are you saying there are still nearly a hundred survivors from my Vermilion Sparrow Tribe?”

Mo Hua nodded.

The other Vermilion Sparrow tribesmen, hearing this, exchanged glances, a glimmer of relief in their hearts.

Mo Hua pondered for a moment, having roughly formed a plan in his mind. He then ordered someone to unbind the Bone Skill Tribe leader’s mouth and asked, “What is your name?”

The Bone Skill Tribe leader, still lost in his confusion about Mo Hua and his doubts about the Barbarian God’s power, looked displeased upon hearing the question. But Mo Hua’s gaze was sharp and commanding at that moment, so the Bone Skill Tribe leader slowly said, “My name is—”

He uttered a series of obscure barbarian words. Based on the meaning, Mo Hua guessed his name was “Iron Skull,” which in the barbarian language meant “unyielding bone.”

“Iron Skull—” Mo Hua nodded. “I ask you, where did you send the other members of the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe?”

Iron Skull’s face changed; Mo Hua had clearly exposed his secret. But he remained defiant. “I don’t know what you’re talking about—”

Mo Hua stared at Iron Skull, his gaze indifferent, but his mind was deep in thought.

Finding the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe survivors wasn’t actually that difficult. The problem was that next, he needed to “capture” an evil god. Evil gods certainly weren’t easy to catch; otherwise, they wouldn’t be evil gods. Therefore, he needed “bait”—

Mo Hua’s eyes shifted, then narrowed slightly, revealing a hint of danger.

For some reason, Iron Skull trembled under Mo Hua’s gaze, his very bones shaking. “What—what are you going to do?”

Mo Hua turned his head and said, “Lord Chifeng.”

Chifeng was silent for a moment, then nodded. “Mr. Wu—”

Throughout their journey, Mo Hua had displayed his ability to pinpoint locations, strategize, speak eloquently, maintain his demeanor, wield influence, and, just now, anticipate and suppress Elder Bashan’s evil intentions. Because of this, Barbarian General Chifeng had grown to respect Mo Hua more. Although he might not genuinely believe Mo Hua was a shaman, he knew that this “young man” who had earned the Young Master’s approval was certainly no ordinary person. A capable person naturally deserved respect. Thus, he now verbally addressed Mo Hua as “Mr. Wu.”

Mo Hua then continued, “Lord Chifeng, break both of Iron Skull’s legs again, preferably exposing the bone.”

Iron Skull’s face was filled with terror. He had no idea what this vicious young man meant by such a cruel act. Break legs that were already broken again? And expose the bone? Iron Skull hated him fiercely, secretly cursing Mo Hua as a born “evil seed”!

Chifeng hesitated for a moment, but did not hold back. The Bone Skill Tribe had invaded the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe and massacred its members; they deserved death. War between tribes was inherently cruel. This Bone Skill Tribe leader named “Iron Skull” deserved to die, and merely breaking his bones was letting him off lightly.

Chifeng, tall and imposing, raised his leg high and completely broke Iron Skull’s thigh bones once more. The fractured leg bones even pierced through the flesh, becoming visible. Mo Hua, seeing his bones, was very satisfied.

Iron Skull was in unbearable pain, cursing Mo Hua from head to toe in his mind, but with blood at the corner of his mouth, he couldn’t utter a single word.

Mo Hua continued to ask Iron Skull, “Will you answer the question I just asked?”

Iron Skull tried to speak, but the unbearable pain prevented him from opening his mouth.

Mo Hua nodded. “Very well, Iron Skull. Your bones are tough, and your mouth is hard. It seems you won’t speak until you’ve suffered a little.”

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then asked Chifeng to drag Iron Skull into the small cave. Mo Hua took out an array-based torture device, placed it on the ground, and made Iron Skull kneel on it. Iron Skull was now in such agony that he no longer even had the energy to curse Mo Hua.

Mo Hua then, with a serious expression, said to Dan Zhu and Chifeng, “We will split up. You two go outside to investigate the whereabouts of the Bone Skill Tribe and interrogate the other captives. I will interrogate Iron Skull.”

Dan Zhu glanced at Mo Hua, who was tormenting Iron Skull with various methods without even batting an eyelid. He suddenly felt that this “Mr. Wu” was somewhat unfamiliar. This differed greatly from the “Sir” in his memory, who was always compassionate, kind-hearted, and advocated for tribal equality. One moment compassionate, the next ruthless. Dan Zhu’s feelings were complex.

Chifeng, however, said little, only, “Then we leave it to you, Mr. Wu.”

Dan Zhu thought for a moment, then added, “Sir, please be—be careful.”

Mo Hua waved his hand and said, “Don’t worry.”

After Dan Zhu and Chifeng left, Iron Skull was in excruciating pain from the torture board. With the small cave providing cover, and no one else around to notice, the timing was perfect.

Mo Hua looked at Iron Skull’s exposed thigh bones, then secretly took out a bottle of ink. He then quietly recalled the Great Wilderness Bone Carving method he had learned from “Mr. Tu” during the Blood Sacrifice Array in the Barren Heavens. He combined this with the “Wood, White, Gold, Jade” bone-casting technique that the Grandmaster of Tai Xu had acquired for him through unofficial channels from the Bai family. Then, using his spiritual sense to control the ink, he surreptitiously used Iron Skull as a “guinea pig,” attempting to draw some array patterns on his fractured leg bones from a distance.

The first stroke of the array pattern was barely “carved” onto the bone. Almost simultaneously, an incredibly agonizing scream, like that of a pig being slaughtered, pierced the air, shaking the entire mountain forest. Iron Skull’s face twisted grotesquely, emitting sounds of pain that were beyond description. Even Mo Hua was startled, his ears ringing from the shock. Iron Skull then simply fainted from the overwhelming pain.

Mo Hua was stunned.

The next moment, Dan Zhu and Chifeng immediately rushed over and asked, “Sir, what happened—”

They then saw Iron Skull, who had been grim-faced and adorned with white bone war paint, now lying unconscious on the ground, his features contorted, drooling, and fainted.

Mo Hua calmly waved his hand. “It’s nothing; I just applied the torture a *tiny* bit too heavily—”

Dan Zhu looked at Iron Skull, then at Mo Hua, his heart filled with shock. He found it hard to imagine just how “a tiny bit too heavily” such torture could be, to make a Core Formation cultivator scream like a slaughtered pig and fall unconscious, his life hanging in the balance. Barbarian General Chifeng’s eyelids couldn’t help but twitch.

“It’s nothing,” Mo Hua said seriously. “I’ll be gentler. You two can go about your business.”

“Hmm—” Dan Zhu hesitated for a moment, then left without further questions.

Chifeng also just looked at Mo Hua, an involuntary trace of fear in his expression.

After the two left, Mo Hua looked at the unconscious Iron Skull and couldn’t help but mutter to himself, “Is drawing array patterns on bones really that painful?” He found it a little hard to believe.

So he fed Iron Skull a few blood-replenishing and pain-relieving pills, then used some minor techniques to revive him. Iron Skull awoke, his mind still hazy. Mo Hua then drew another array pattern on his bone. The extreme pain instantly returned, and Iron Skull let out another piercing cry, his eyes nearly bursting, before he fainted from the agony. Fortunately, Mo Hua had set up a sound-insulating array beforehand, so this time, the pig-like shriek did not carry outside. Still, Mo Hua’s ears were ringing painfully.

Mo Hua looked at Iron Skull’s state, puffed out a breath, and shook his head. “It seems I wasn’t wrong; it really is very painful.” Otherwise, this Bone Skill Tribe leader, Iron Skull, a Core Formation cultivator with fanatical faith and considerable pain tolerance, wouldn’t have simply fainted from the pain.

“Drawing array patterns on bones is this painful? It’s like ‘torture’—”

“What am I going to do then?”

Mo Hua was dumbfounded. When he formed his Core, he would need to draw a Rank Two, twenty-four-patterned Twelve Meridians Gluttonous Spirit Bone Array on his own skeleton. Iron Skull couldn’t even handle one stroke. But when he formed his Core, he would have to draw all twenty-four Gluttonous patterns. How many strokes would that take? Wouldn’t that be agonizing to the point of death? Mo Hua gasped, his teeth chattering. It was a good thing he had the sudden idea to try it on Iron Skull’s bones first. Otherwise, if he had blindly drawn array patterns on his own bones later, he might have died from the pain on the spot.

“What should I do?”

“Take some anesthetic pills? Do such things even exist?”

“Or, just let myself pass out from the pain. Once I’m unconscious, I can draw the Natal Array on my bones again—”

“But—I still need to draw the array. If I pass out, who will draw it for me?”

Mo Hua’s head throbbed. Cultivation was too difficult. Forming a Core was far from easy.

Mo Hua sighed, looked at Iron Skull, and after pondering for a moment, decided not to wake him again or make him endure the “bone-carving array” torture any further. After all, he wasn’t truly evil, nor did he enjoy torturing people for pleasure.

While Iron Skull was unconscious and insensible, Mo Hua carved some array patterns onto his bones. Afterward, Mo Hua prepared to wait for Iron Skull to awaken. However, Mo Hua soon discovered another problem: it seemed that because of the array patterns carved onto his bones, Iron Skull’s vital energy was draining exceptionally fast. Even his life force was continuously diminishing.

Mo Hua frowned. He realized an even more serious problem: Engraving Natal Arrays onto the skeleton seemed to be far more damaging to the Dao body than he had initially anticipated. Not only was the entire process accompanied by unbearable pain, but breaking the naturally formed skeletal meridian structure would also, to a certain extent, cause a massive loss of vital energy and life force. The more array patterns there were, the deeper the pain, the greater the damage to the bones, and presumably, the faster the vital energy and life force would drain.

Mo Hua’s frown deepened. This was no longer merely “troublesome”; it had become almost a “death tribulation.” Without resolving the issues of vital energy depletion and life force loss, engraving the Natal Array on his own bones would be tantamount to “suicide.” If he lost his life, what would be the point of forming a Core?

Mo Hua let out a deep sigh. Only practice could verify understanding. If he hadn’t experimented with Iron Skull, he wouldn’t have realized this problem at all. No wonder some elders of the Tai Xu Sect constantly emphasized that cultivation should be cautious, respect ancient methods, have references, and follow mature and stable cultivation systems. Why did the inheritances of great sects attract so many cultivators like ducks to water? It wasn’t just because the inheritances of great sects were of higher rank and greater power. Rather, it was because great sects had long histories of transmission, many practitioners, encompassing various spiritual roots, backgrounds, ranks, and different geniuses and cultivators. Such a vast sample of cultivators and cultivation practices would almost certainly identify all problems and hidden dangers encountered during the inheritance process. These would then be thoroughly studied and resolved by the sect’s ancestors and esteemed masters. This way, disciples’ cultivation journeys would naturally be smooth, preventing a single misstep from leading to eternal regret.

However, if one pursued an obscure path of cultivation, with few practitioners, limited experience, no one to offer guidance, the road ahead would be shrouded in uncertainty. One might accidentally stumble into a pit, thus wasting extra time. Stumble into two pits, and it would waste twice as much time. Stumble into several pits, and one might remain trapped for life, wasting their entire existence. It was even possible that a chosen cultivation path would seem promising in its early stages, only for the next step to come to an abrupt halt, leading to a dead end with no path to cultivate, a desperate situation with nowhere to go.

Mo Hua’s situation, however, was even more extreme. He was following a path of spiritual sense enlightenment, and a particularly unique one at that. There were virtually no precedents he could refer to or learn from. His path ahead was almost entirely shrouded in mist, and within that mist, no one knew where the thorns lay or where the dead ends were. He could only grope his way forward alone. And now, with one attempt, he had stumbled upon a huge pit. If this pit couldn’t be filled, let alone forming a Core, he might not even keep his life.

“Bone-carving arrays, vital energy depletion, loss of life force—”

Mo Hua was somewhat flustered and had no time to think deeply for a moment. He suddenly noticed a change in the baleful aura and looked down. Iron Skull’s vital energy was draining, his life force escaping, his glabella region a pallid gray, and he appeared to be on the verge of death. Mo Hua was slightly startled. Iron Skull couldn’t die yet. He was still useful alive. Moreover, if he died, Mo Hua would incur a karmic burden of death.

Mo Hua shoved a handful of pills into Iron Skull’s mouth and used a twig to push them down. He then sprinkled some medicinal powder on his arms and legs to stop the bleeding, and scattered some “bone-regeneration powder” to help Iron Skull’s bones heal.

After a while, Iron Skull’s life was indeed stabilized. Iron Skull slowly gasped for air. When he opened his eyes and looked at Mo Hua, it was as if he was staring at a “demon.”