He had only just knelt and kowtowed once.

In that brief moment, the child, resembling a “Jīntóng” (Golden Boy) and wielding a golden sword, had already severed the head of the colossal, majestic, and terrifying Man Shen (Barbarian God) Dàrén (Lord).

This extremely preposterous scene shattered Tiě Shùgǔ’s (Iron Skull Bone) sanity.

Tiě Shùgǔ chuckled like an idiot, thinking to himself:

“I understand, I understand, this is an illusion…”

“All of this is fake, it’s all illusory, impossible, absolutely impossible…”

“I’ve fallen under an illusion, I’ve been hit by some evil spell, I’m hallucinating, I’m still dreaming, I danced a dance to please Man Shen Dàrén, my madness hasn’t subsided yet…”

In an instant, Tiě Shùgǔ felt a sense of inevitability.

Then, in the next moment, he saw the Jīntóng’s golden sword twist, and golden light, like a net, directly shredded Man Shen Dàrén’s enormous remains into fragments. Then, red light ascended, sacred patterns appeared, and flames incinerated the massive Man Shen, reducing him to a wisp of semi-silver, semi-azure Nianli (Mental Power).

The Jīntóng opened his small, gaping mouth and, with a guttural “Ao Wu” sound, swallowed all the silver-azure Nianli into his belly.

This even more sanity-distorting scene brought Tiě Shùgǔ even more relief.

“Indeed, I knew it, I’m having a nightmare…”

For a child to slay a Man Shen with a single sword was already a fantastical tale.

Now, Man Shen Dàrén was not only killed but also devoured by a child, which was even more absurd, something only a simpleton would believe.

Tiě Shùgǔ considered himself no simpleton, and he would not believe it.

Based on his three hundred years of extensive Xiudao (Cultivation) experience, he concluded that he was indeed dreaming, hallucinating, suffering from some “evil affliction,” and trapped in a fantasy.

And dreams are the opposite of reality.

He surmised that in reality, Man Shen Dàrén was too terrifying, creating such profound fear that in his dream, Man Shen Dàrén was severed by a child’s sword.

This was a cultivator’s internal self-regulation.

Tiě Shùgǔ, who often fell into madness and experienced hysteria, was quite knowledgeable about this.

Just then, the Jīntóng, who had slain the Man Shen and held the golden sword, turned and glanced at Tiě Shùgǔ.

A strange but pure divine pressure emanated, causing Tiě Shùgǔ to tremble all over. He immediately and skillfully knelt on the ground, pressing his head against the earth, not daring to utter a sound.

Even though Tiě Shùgǔ knew he was dreaming, having an episode, hallucinating, and that everything was an illusion.

Yet, his inherent reverence and fear of “God” were utterly sincere.

Mò Huà’s (Ink Painting) golden eyes gazed at Tiě Shùgǔ, his mind contemplative, seemingly considering how to deal with this Jīndān (Golden Core) leader of the Shùgǔ (Skull Bone) Tribe.

However, after some thought, he decided it was merely a minor Jīndān leader, not worth much attention.

Tiě Shùgǔ knelt on the ground, trembling.

After some time, the dream began to fracture, the divine sense illusion distorted, and the Jīntóng figure of Mò Huà holding the golden sword started to blur.

Tiě Shùgǔ also felt dizzy and lightheaded, his head seemingly twisted into a pretzel.

When the pain in his divine consciousness dissipated and he opened his eyes again, Tiě Shùgǔ found himself still in the great hall.

Above the hall, the white-boned Man Shen stone statue was menacing and solemn.

But that was all; the statue was now a “dead object,” and the eerie, malevolent, and unapproachable aura had quietly vanished.

Tiě Shùgǔ’s heart skipped a beat.

“Did Man Shen Dàrén leave? Or did Man Shen Dàrén never descend, and the blood mist just now was all my own hallucination?”

“It can’t be…”

Tiě Shùgǔ quickly suppressed the disrespectful thought in his mind, then suddenly startled and turned to look at Mò Huà.

Mò Huà stood still, his expression calm and composed.

Tiě Shùgǔ scrutinized Mò Huà’s face, becoming more and more alarmed the longer he looked.

Too similar!

This malicious fair-skinned youth was too similar to the Jīntóng in his hallucination, the one who wielded a golden sword and severed the Man Shen’s head.

In fact, one could say they were identical, just scaled up.

What exactly… was going on?

Tiě Shùgǔ felt panic in his heart; he simply couldn’t understand.

Mò Huà didn’t say much; as a Wūzhù (Shamanic Priest), one had to maintain a certain “mystique.”

A chatterbox could not be Wūzhù Dàrén.

Now that the Man Shen was killed and “eaten,” the purpose of this trip was achieved.

The overall process was much smoother than Mò Huà had expected, mainly because the Man Shen’s degree of “corruption” had not met Mò Huà’s expectations; it was only half-corrupted and could not be called a complete “evil god.”

Therefore, Mò Huà had virtually eradicated it with a single sword, saving a lot of trouble.

Even so, this was almost the largest “evil entity” Mò Huà had encountered since leaving the Qián Xué Zhōujiè (Dry Study Prefecture Realm).

This was already an extremely strong opponent and a very rare “great meal.”

After finding a quiet place to carefully refine it, his divine consciousness could advance further.

Mò Huà felt a bit impatient, but there were still some aftermaths to deal with.

“Saving people…”

Mò Huà’s gaze passed over the Man Shen statue and looked towards a cave behind it.

Inside the cave, there were many living human auras.

Mò Huà approached the cave and saw rows of rusty iron cages, and within these cages were faces filled with sorrow and despair.

These were the tribesmen from smaller tribes, captured and brought by the Dānquè (Vermilion Sparrow) Tribe.

Not only Dānquè Tribe members but also captives from other small and medium-sized tribes were all confined together, serving as “live provisions.”

These living people were used, firstly, to stave off hunger during famines, and secondly, to sacrifice to the Man Shen.

Their food was all like dregs, things pigs and dogs wouldn’t eat, purely to keep them alive.

Some poisonous plants and tree bark were even fed to them by the Shùgǔ Tribe, who didn’t treat them as humans at all.

This was the treatment of Man Nú (Barbarian Slaves).

These living “Man Nú” didn’t show joy upon seeing Mò Huà; instead, their faces were filled with terror.

They mistook Mò Huà for someone from the Shùgǔ Tribe.

And every time someone from the Shùgǔ Tribe came, it was to capture people to eat; they were bull-headed demons taking lives, man-eating yakshas.

Even though Mò Huà looked handsome and kind, appearances could be deceiving; he might also be a man-eating ghost.

The Man Nú were all in a state of panic.

Mò Huà sighed softly in his heart.

For some people in this world, life was truly difficult.

Mò Huà said gently:

“You need not be afraid. I am a Wūzhù who serves the gods. I am here by the command of the God Lord and at the request of Dānzhū (Vermilion Pearl), the young master of the Dānquè Tribe, to rescue you from this sea of suffering.”

Mò Huà’s face was like jade, his expression solemn, his beauty not of this world. His clear voice also held a calming power.

Moreover, he mentioned “Wūzhù” and the Dānquè Tribe’s widely renowned “Dānzhū Young Master.”

After exchanging glances, the Man Nú’s despairing expressions were replaced by a glimmer of hope.

Several Dānquè tribesmen then bowed to Mò Huà, saying:

“Thank you, Wūzhù Dàrén, thank you, Dānzhū Young Master.”

With someone taking the lead, the doubts in others’ hearts gradually vanished, and more and more Dānquè tribesmen bowed in gratitude to Mò Huà.

Even some Bàn Xiū (Barbarian Cultivators) from tribes not belonging to Dānquè followed suit, bowing to Mò Huà and pleading:

“Thank you, Wūzhù Dàrén, thank you, Dānzhū Young Master, please, Wūzhù Dàrén, save our lives.”

Mò Huà didn’t like people kneeling to him.

This “kowtowing ritual” was not a good etiquette.

But now he had to pretend to be a Wūzhù, so there was nothing he could do but accept the kneeling of these Bàn Xiū.

Amidst their bows, Mò Huà extended a pale finger and touched the cell door.

“Sacred patterns” seemed to obey his command, forming at his fingertip and condensing onto the iron cage, directly breaking open the seemingly unbreakable iron doors.

This action, in the eyes of these tribal Bàn Xiū who had become “Man Nú,” was like a miracle.

All the Man Nú plopped down, kneeling once more.

Those who had previously harbored doubts were now utterly convinced. With great compassion in his heart and sacred patterns forming at his fingertips, Mò Huà was indeed the “Wūzhù Dàrén” who would save their lives and deliver them from suffering.

Everyone chanted “Wūzhù Dàrén” and kowtowed to Mò Huà.

Mò Huà walked through the desperate and rusty iron cages, gently touching his finger, and one after another, the cells opened, bringing these suffering Bàn Xiū the hope of life.

More and more rescued Bàn Xiū chanted Mò Huà’s honored name.

Mò Huà felt a little awkward, but he put on a composed expression.

Finally, in less than half an hour, all the captives imprisoned in the entire stone hall dungeon were rescued by Mò Huà.

Mò Huà counted them; there were about five hundred Man Nú.

More than half of them were from the Dānquè Tribe.

The remaining scattered ones were Bàn Xiū from surrounding small tribes.

These were all the “provisions” accumulated by the Shùgǔ Tribe.

Besides these provisions, there were other things hidden in this stone hall.

Deeper in the dungeon, there were some storerooms.

These storerooms contained some genuine “food,” such as soybeans, grains, dried meat, and so on.

There was legitimate food in the Shùgǔ Tribe?

Mò Huà felt a slight sense of incongruity but didn’t have time to ponder it deeply, as his attention was drawn to items in another batch of storerooms.

These items were some Bànjiǎ (Barbarian Armor) and the necessary materials for forging them: demon bones, leather, iron stones, etc.

The quantity was considerable.

“Could the Bìfāng (Bi Fang) Tribe’s attack on the Shùgǔ Tribe be for… this large stock of Bànjiǎ in the storerooms?”

Mò Huà felt a bit surprised and also a little covetous.

He had long wanted to “mass produce” Bànjiǎ and incorporate them into the creation of Bàn Bīng (Barbarian Soldiers) to see the effects.

However, in this barren land, skilled artifact refiners were few, and refining materials were even rarer.

In a sense, these were “military supply” materials, mostly monopolized by large tribes. It was extremely difficult to obtain high-quality, large quantities of suitable beast bones and hides for forging “Bànjiǎ.”

This “fat chunk of meat” in front of him had to be taken.

Of course, this wasn’t something he could decide alone; further deliberation was needed.

The immediate priority was to get the people out.

Mò Huà turned around, looking at the dirty faces filled with longing and hope, and slowly said:

“The God Lord will bless you and save your lives. Now, all of you, follow me and leave.”

Everyone enthusiastically responded:

“Yes, Wūzhù Dàrén.”

Mò Huà then led the group towards the main entrance of the stone hall.

As they walked, they arrived before the colossal, menacing white-boned Man Shen statue.

All the Man Nú looked terrified, cowering and trembling.

They feared the “man-eating” Shùgǔ Tribe, and they also feared the Man Shen statue worshipped by the Shùgǔ Tribe.

And at this moment, kneeling before the Man Shen statue was Tiě Shùgǔ, his face painted with a white bone mask, wearing the Shùgǔ Tribe’s attire.

“Shùgǔ Tribe Jīndān?!”

The captured Bàn Xiū were startled.

Tiě Shùgǔ, who was kneeling before the Man Shen statue and mumbling something, was also startled.

He was scared by Mò Huà.

Ever since witnessing the Jīntóng slay the Man Shen with a single sword, Mò Huà, whose appearance resembled the Jīntóng, filled Tiě Shùgǔ with fear.

Even though Tiě Shùgǔ firmly believed it was a dream he had, that everything was his own fantasy.

He still felt an instinctive fear towards Mò Huà.

Mò Huà glanced at Tiě Shùgǔ.

Although he was far away before, Mò Huà’s divine consciousness was sharp, and his hearing and sight keen, so he had roughly heard what Tiě Shùgǔ was mumbling while kneeling before the Man Shen statue.

Such as “ancestors protect us,” “avert disaster and misfortune,” and so on.

These words were nothing problematic.

Mò Huà didn’t take them to heart, but instead said to Tiě Shùgǔ, “You come out with me.”

As soon as these words were uttered, Tiě Shùgǔ said nothing, but the captured Bàn Xiū were all terrified:

“Wūzhù Dàrén, this person is a Jīndān of the Shùgǔ Tribe…”

Mò Huà then said, “This person is an ‘internal spy’ of the Shùgǔ Tribe. It was he who passed on information and led me to save you.”

Tiě Shùgǔ looked shocked.

What nonsense was this fair-faced Wūzhù spouting?!

He was no spy!

He was a “loyal subject” of the Shùgǔ Tribe with an unyielding spirit, merely out of faith in Man Shen Dàrén, pressured by the dire situation and the enemy’s maliciousness, that he had to compromise and lead the way for this fair-faced Wūzhù.

He was not a spy!

No!

But the captive Bàn Xiū looked at Tiě Shùgǔ with the gaze of “one of their own,” some even with gratitude.

This made Tiě Shùgǔ extremely uncomfortable.

“Let’s go,” Mò Huà said calmly.

Tiě Shùgǔ had no choice; he feared Mò Huà’s “venomous hand” again, so he could only hobble along with his broken staff, limping behind Mò Huà.

Outside the stone hall.

Dānzhū and the others, who had been waiting for over an hour, were all solemn and deeply worried.

They were certain that there was something evil within the stone hall.

And Wū Xiānshēng (Shamanic Priest Mister) had been inside for so long, yet there was no sound.

Bì Jié (Bi Jie) of the Bìfāng Tribe also wore a scornful expression, sneering:

“An overconfident brat… Two Jīndān from my Bìfāng Tribe fell in there, and you, a mere Zhùjī (Foundation Establishment), think that just because you have the title of ‘Wūzhù,’ you are truly immune to all evil? What an idiot…”

But before he finished speaking, footsteps echoed from within the stone hall.

Bì Jié’s face changed as he saw a figure dimly emerge from the darkness.

This person was not tall, but his demeanor was solemn, and against the backdrop of the evil darkness behind him, he even appeared somewhat divine and majestic.

His face was as fair as jade, his gaze clear, and his temperament transcendent.

He emerged from the evil forbidden zone where Jīndān had perished, his expression unchanged, his demeanor without the slightest panic, not even a wrinkle on his clothes.

His Dàoxīn (Dao Heart) remained unbroken through great calamities.

He remained untainted by a myriad of evils.

And behind him was a large group of rescued captives.

These captured Bàn Xiū, following Mò Huà out of the stone hall, looked up and saw the long-awaited sunlight. Knowing they were saved, they all wept with joy.

They all knelt before Mò Huà, passionately shouting:

“Thank you, God Lord Dàrén, for your blessings!”

“Thank you, Wūzhù Dàrén, for saving our lives!”

“God Lord Dàrén, eternal life! Wūzhù Dàrén, long live and prosper!”

The fervent cries of the Man Nú were deafening.

And Mò Huà stood alone, calm and composed, in the midst of the crowd.

Behind him was darkness.

In front of him was sunlight.

The brilliant light fell upon his face, making his countenance like jade, as if he were a divine being.

This scene was captivating.

Dānzhū and the Dānquè Tribe members were also mesmerized.

In that moment, the image of “Wūzhù” in their hearts perfectly overlapped with Mò Huà’s figure.

Before this, their impressions of a Wūzhù varied.

But at this moment, they suddenly felt that the “Wūzhù Dàrén” who served the gods should look exactly like Mò Huà.

Many Bàn Bīng were swayed, feeling that Mò Huà at this moment was like a “divine agent” on earth.

Some Dānquè Bàn Bīng, influenced by this sacred atmosphere, instinctively began to kneel to Mò Huà and pray devoutly.

Even among the “hostile” Bìfāng Tribe, some Bàn Bīng were affected, instinctively their knees softened, and they wanted to kneel before this solemn and sacred “Wūzhù Dàrén.”

Bì Jié was filled with hatred, and his eyes, like daggers, looked back.

The Bìfāng Tribe Bàn Bīng, who had been halfway kneeling, stopped abruptly and stood straight again.

This sacred and solemn atmosphere lasted for a long time.

Finally, Bì Jié couldn’t hold back. He suppressed the shock and confusion in his heart, looked directly at Mò Huà, and asked:

“What exactly happened? What transpired in the stone hall? Where are Elder Zhuó and those twenty elites from my Bìfāng Tribe?”

Mò Huà’s face held a faint pity as he slowly said:

“Within the stone hall, an aberrant evil entity that betrayed the path of the gods was hidden. This evil entity could bewitch people’s hearts, and all of the Bìfāng Tribe members have died.”

Bì Jié’s face was extremely grim.

Though he felt pain for the more than twenty elite Bàn Bīng, it wasn’t an unbearable loss.

But two loyal Jīndān elders—these were extremely valuable “human resources.”

To lose them all in the blink of an eye, even Bì Jié couldn’t help but feel heartache.

Bì Jié glared fiercely at Mò Huà, “And you? Why didn’t you die in there?”

Mò Huà, being magnanimous, did not dwell on his rudeness, but instead said with firm eyes:

“I told you, as a Wūzhù, I am to spread the God Lord’s grace, to eradicate evil entities, to cleanse corruption as my duty, and to support the common people and save the wilderness as my original intention.”

“Now, my piety has received a response from the God Lord.”

“The God Lord bestowed upon me supreme divine power, and has already completely slain the powerful evil entity that deviated from the path of the gods!”

Upon hearing this, everyone’s faces were shaken, and there was an uproar.

Such mystical and profound words they could not witness firsthand, so it was difficult to ascertain their truth.

However, it was a fact that the two Jīndān of the Bìfāng Tribe had tragically died in the stone hall in less than half an hour.

It was also a fact that Mò Huà, a Zhùjī, could walk out of the stone hall unharmed and rescue the imprisoned tribal members.

Given these facts, to say that the God Lord bestowed blessings and that “divine power” was upon him might not be false.

Everyone’s gaze towards Mò Huà, beyond respect, now held a hint of awe for a “divine path powerhouse,” a “Wūzhù expert.”

Since he was an expert, he certainly could not be judged by his “Zhùjī” cultivation.

Bì Jié, by nature arrogant, inwardly cursed Mò Huà for being eloquent, playing mysterious, and putting on an act.

But he couldn’t figure out the truth of the matter.

Bì Jié thought for a moment, then simply decided not to bother and instead looked directly at Dānzhū, saying coldly:

“Since this… Wūzhù has already rescued the Dānquè Tribe members, can your Dānquè Tribe withdraw its troops now? We had an agreement beforehand that your Dānquè Tribe would save the people, but the Shùgǔ Tribe’s treasury belongs to our Bìfāng Tribe.”

Dānzhū was about to agree, but looked up at Mò Huà, only to see Mò Huà subtly shaking his head at him.

Bàn Jiàng (Barbarian General) Chì Fēng (Crimson Peak) also gently squeezed Dānzhū’s arm.

Dānzhū was naive, but Chì Fēng had fought for many years, experienced and shrewd, and would not be fooled by Bì Jié.

On the battlefield, verbal agreements were all false.

Leading troops in battle was only about interests.

The Bìfāng Tribe was so concerned about the Shùgǔ Tribe’s stone hall treasury, there must be something fishy inside.

If it were before, when the Dānquè Tribe was at a disadvantage and both sides kept to themselves, it would be fine.

But now, the Bìfāng Tribe had lost two Jīndān.

And the Dānquè Tribe’s strength was completely intact, even gaining Mò Huà, a “Wūzhù Dàrén” with mysterious abilities and unknown power.

Compared to the two, the Dānquè Tribe clearly had the upper hand.

Even if it meant forming an enmity, they had to contend with the Bìfāng Tribe; even if they had to forcefully take it, they would seize the Shùgǔ Tribe’s treasury.

There might be something good hidden in that treasury.

(End of chapter)