The desire for power, rooted in the human heart, cannot be eradicated.

Class hierarchy, perhaps, is human nature.

Everyone, given any opportunity, will climb upwards to acquire more cultivation resources, gain stronger power, and wield greater authority. With this, they enslave others, oppress others, and lord over others, finding class satisfaction and pleasure.

Here in the desolate lands, this is especially evident.

Mo Hua’s eyes were deep as he fell into thought.

“Sir,” Dan Zhu asked, seeing Mo Hua’s unusual expression, “do we need to send troops to conquer this small mountain range?”

Mo Hua was silent for a moment, then shook his head.

“No need. This place was once the Lord of God’s preaching ground, but some people have strayed from the Lord of God’s ‘instructions’.”

Chi Feng and the others exchanged glances.

Mo Hua instructed, “You all wait here, I’ll go check the situation.”

Dan Zhu thought for a moment, then nodded, “Understood, Sir.”

Dan Zhu and a group of five or six hundred people set up camp in a nearby small valley.

Mo Hua, alone, entered the Wucha mountain range.

After entering the mountain range, Mo Hua activated his stealth technique, his figure turning invisible, and walked across the desolate land.

Although there was no famine, the people’s lives were in decline. The various situations he witnessed mostly deviated from his wishes.

His instructions to Wucha were not taken to heart by Wucha.

His teachings on the human heart also ended in failure.

The human heart is perilous, and the Dao heart is subtle.

Under persuasion, even if the human heart can be “kind” for a while, a slight relaxation will lead it back to extravagance, pleasure, oppression, and exploitation, eventually leading step by step to destruction.

“All evil originates from the human heart.”

“And the evil thoughts of the human heart will hatch out—”

Evil gods.

In an instant, Mo Hua vaguely understood something.

After pondering for a moment, he did not look for Wucha but instead passed through the Wucha mountain range to the Wutu mountain range, first finding the Wutu tribe.

Mo Hua did not care about Wucha’s life or death.

What he cared about were the children he had taught.

He wondered if those children had been affected and what they were like now.

Mo Hua, invisible, entered the Wutu tribe’s main gate. The surrounding formations were set up by himself, so they naturally could not stop him.

Inside the tribe, everything was as usual. The atmosphere was harmonious, everyone had clothes to wear and food to eat, and some houses and tents were built more solidly.

This indicated that his orders were being diligently followed, at least by Elder Zhamu of the Wutu tribe.

Mo Hua felt a little relieved.

His divine sense swept over briefly, and he found a group of people gathered in the main hall.

Mo Hua’s gaze shifted slightly. He invisibly entered the Wutu tribe’s main hall and saw that the hall was spacious with simple furnishings. Many people were gathered there, constantly arguing about something. It seemed they had been arguing for a long time, and the atmosphere was tense.

At the highest point, there was an empty seat.

That was the seat Mo Hua often sat in before.

Previously, when he presided over the Wutu tribe, he sat in that seat, acting as a shaman, strategizing, issuing orders, unifying Wutu, Wucha, and even several surrounding second-grade small mountain ranges, continuously improving people’s livelihoods, and promoting the prestige of the Lord of God.

With him, the shaman, absent, no one dared to touch his seat.

Mo Hua bypassed the crowd and, without anyone noticing, returned to his seat. He calmly sat down, propping his arm, looking down at the ongoing arguments.

The arguing crowd did not notice the arrival of their “Shaman Lord” and continued to debate back and forth.

Only Xiao Zhatu, behind Elder Zhamu, seemed to sense something and glanced at the seat.

But the seat was empty; his Sir had not appeared.

Xiao Zhatu looked a little disappointed, then he seemed to remember his Sir’s teachings, and his mood gradually calmed, his eyes showing a hint of determination.

At this moment, the previously tense atmosphere in the hall suddenly became confrontational.

Elder Zhamu of the Wutu tribe was speaking to a Blackhorn tribe barbarian general:

“Absolutely not!”

“This batch of barbarian armor was forged by Elder Jiaohu at the command of the Shaman Lord. Without the Shaman Lord’s permission, it cannot be given to anyone.” The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general’s face was stern, “I am here to request the barbarian armor on the command of Lord Jiaoli—”

“Now that Lord Jiaoli and Wucha are at odds, without enough barbarian armor, we will certainly not be able to guarantee the safety of the Wutu tribe, or even the Wutu mountain range, under Wucha’s aggressive pressure.”

His words subtly contained a hint of threat. Elder Zhamu retorted angrily:

“Does Wucha dare to attack my Wutu tribe? My Wutu tribe was the first tribe the Shaman Lord descended upon, and the Shaman Lord even named this mountain range ‘Wutu.’ Does Wucha dare to attack the Wutu tribe? Does he want to betray the Shaman Lord?”

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general said, “It is precisely because the Shaman Lord has a deep connection with your Wutu tribe that Wucha, for the sake of the Shaman Lord, has been so tolerant. Otherwise, he would have already occupied the Wutu mountain range.”

“However—” the Blackhorn tribe barbarian general’s eyes were cold, “the Shaman Lord has been missing for over a year now, with no news, and it’s unknown where he went or if he can ever return. Wucha has long been restless.”

“If it weren’t for Lord Jiaoli, who remembered the Shaman Lord’s kindness and followed the Shaman Lord’s orders, constantly sending troops to protect your Wutu tribe, Wucha would have already dealt harshly with you.”

“Lord Jiaoli has gone to great lengths to protect your Wutu tribe, deserving credit for his efforts, even if not for his achievements. Now, you’re making excuses just for a few sets of barbarian armor?”

Elder Zhamu said in a deep voice, “In the end, isn’t Jiaoli still coveting this batch of barbarian armor? What’s the difference between him and Wucha?”

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general was displeased: “How can Wucha be compared with Lord Jiaoli?”

Elder Zhamu sneered.

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general sighed, “Wucha, he has barbarian armor personally bestowed by the Shaman Lord. On the armor, there are holy patterns personally drawn by the Shaman Lord. This is the Shaman Lord’s ‘blessing’.”

“No matter how strong Lord Jiaoli is, he cannot defeat Wucha, who has received the Shaman Lord’s ‘blessing’.”

“Therefore—”

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general continued:

“I came here to ask Elder Zhamu for the newly forged barbarian armor. With the barbarian armor, Lord Jiaoli will be like a tiger with wings, able to contend with Wucha and protect the Wutu tribe completely.”

Elder Zhamu obviously did not believe him, he only retorted:

“You can certainly ask Elder Jiaohu for the barbarian armor. After all, your Lord Jiaoli is Elder Jiaohu’s son.”

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general’s face darkened: “Lord Jiaoli is now the chief of the Blackhorn tribe and has no relation to Elder Jiaohu. Please be careful with your words, Elder Zhamu.”

Elder Zhamu just kept sneering.

Having achieved success and fame, he now disdained his illegitimate son status and wanted to change his identity.

However, he did not voice these words, so as not to provoke the Blackhorn tribe barbarian general.

“Fine, if you say there’s no relation, then there’s no relation—” Elder Zhamu sneered, “But your Blackhorn tribe’s Elder Jiaohu is the armor-forging elder. Why don’t you ask Elder Jiaohu and instead ask my Wutu tribe for barbarian armor?”

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general said coldly, “Elder Jiaohu secretly stored all the barbarian armor he forged in the Wutu tribe.”

Elder Zhamu shook his head, “Nonsense.”

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general said flatly, “Then we’ll search.”

Elder Zhamu’s eyes burned with anger, he roared, “How dare you! This is the Shaman Lord’s place of prayer, do you think you can just search it?”

The elders of the other small tribes were also indignant, scolding the Blackhorn tribe for being ungrateful and daring to offend the Shaman Lord.

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general hesitated for a moment.

The Shaman Lord had been gone for a year, but his prestige remained, and the collective anger could not be provoked.

But Lord Jiaoli’s order could not be disobeyed.

While it was noisy, another group of people burst in.

Elder Zhamu looked up, his face changing dramatically.

The newcomer wore blood-red barbarian armor, possessing Foundation Establishment Peak cultivation, and was a trusted barbarian general of Wucha, the chief of the Wulu tribe.

This red-armored barbarian general, fierce and menacing, stormed in and, seeing the Blackhorn tribe barbarian general, immediately grinned.

“What, your Blackhorn tribe is also coveting the Shaman Lord’s legacy?”

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general’s face was grim, “Do you want to snatch the barbarian armor from my Blackhorn tribe?”

The red-armored barbarian general scoffed, patting his deeply blood-red, scarred, but murderous battle armor, “My Wulu tribe’s barbarian armor was personally bestowed by the Shaman Lord. How can your newly forged armor be compared to the armor bestowed by the Shaman Lord?”

“I came today to take someone.”

“Take someone?” The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general frowned.

The Wulu barbarian general looked at Elder Zhamu and said:

“Lord Wucha has ordered that all of the Shaman Lord’s ‘students’ be ‘invited’ to the Wulu tribe. Lord Wucha will greatly reuse them.”

Elder Zhamu’s anger surged.

Jiaoli wanted to snatch the barbarian armor, but this Wucha wanted to “snatch” people.

If the armor was gone, it could be forged again.

But those children carefully nurtured by the Shaman Lord were the tribe’s most precious asset. If they fell into Wucha’s hands, it would be equivalent to cutting off the “root” of their inheritance.

This Wucha, it turns out, was playing such a shameless trick!

Elder Zhamu roared, “Wucha, he’s dreaming!”

The Wulu barbarian general’s face turned cold.

Elder Zhamu pointed at his nose and cursed, “Don’t you fear incurring the wrath of the Shaman Lord by doing this?”

The Wulu barbarian general sneered, “I am doing all this at the command of Lord Wucha.”

“Then why doesn’t that bastard Wucha dare to come himself?” Elder Zhamu angrily asked, “Is he afraid that one day the Shaman Lord will unleash divine punishment upon him?”

Hearing these words, the Wulu barbarian general also felt a flutter in his heart.

But then, he said coldly, “Lord Wucha is doing this in accordance with the Shaman Lord’s wishes. These children are the Shaman Lord’s ‘disciples,’ and they deserve better treatment, higher respect, and to contribute to the tribe’s development.”

Elder Zhamu’s face was stubborn and cold.

The Wulu barbarian general patiently persuaded, “Your Wutu tribe is too weak to protect these children thoroughly.”

“If anything were to happen to this group of the Shaman Lord’s disciples, could you bear the responsibility?”

“So, hand over these children who received direct teachings from the Shaman Lord. I will take them back to the Wulu tribe and entrust them to Lord Wucha, who will personally protect them.”

Elder Zhamu was unyielding.

The Wulu barbarian general lost his patience, a sinister look on his face, his peripheral vision instantly alerting him to Xiao Zhatu, who had once followed the Shaman Lord.

Xiao Zhatu’s face was pale, and he couldn’t help but tug at his grandfather’s sleeve.

Elder Zhamu shielded Xiao Zhatu behind him, shaking his head and saying in a deep voice:

“These children are the Shaman Lord’s students, the hope of the Wutu mountain range. I cannot hand them over to you. If you want to snatch them, you’ll have to step over my corpse.”

The Wulu barbarian general nodded, sneering:

“You old man, at the early Foundation Establishment stage, with one foot in the grave, what nonsense are you spewing? With your old bones, who can you stop? If not for the Shaman Lord’s sake, I could crush you with one hand.”

“Fine—since you’re unwilling to hand them over, I’ll seize them myself.”

The Wulu barbarian general, radiating a bloody aura, strode towards the back of the hall.

He could sense that behind the hall, somewhere, a group of tender auras were hidden.

Elder Zhamu angrily said, “How dare you?!”

The Wutu tribe, and some elders and Foundation Establishment barbarian generals who were close to the Wutu tribe, all stepped forward to block him.

However, their cultivation was too far below that of this Foundation Establishment Peak Wulu tribe barbarian general.

Within a few rounds, they were all defeated.

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general hesitated for a moment, then also flashed forward, blocking the Wulu tribe barbarian general’s path.

This hall, which the Shaman Lord once used for discussions, was a place where even Jiaoli and Wucha, as tribal chiefs, dared not approach.

Therefore, these two barbarian generals became “representatives.”

And this was not the first time these two had met. In previous conflicts between their two tribes, they had often clashed and were considered “acquaintances.”

The Wulu barbarian general said, “Why are you blocking me? You seize your armor, I seize my people. We don’t interfere with each other.”

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general’s eyes flashed, “The armor is mine, but the people cannot be given to you either.”

The Wulu barbarian general sneered, “Your Blackhorn tribe pays lip service to the Shaman Lord but acts contrary; you’re no good either.”

“You’re asking for death!”

“You’re the one asking for death.”

Mo Hua had once laid down a rule that no weapons were allowed in the Shaman Lord’s hall.

So the two barbarian generals fought bare-handed, their qi surging, fists meeting flesh.

After hundreds of rounds, the Blackhorn tribe barbarian general, whose cultivation was weaker at the late Foundation Establishment stage, was finally struck in the eye by a punch from the Wulu tribe barbarian general. His stance became unstable, revealing a flaw, and before he could react, he was kicked in the chest.

The Blackhorn tribe barbarian general staggered back ten steps, spitting out a mouthful of blood.

The Wulu tribe barbarian general snorted coldly, “Overestimating yourself.”

Then he continued walking, and after a few steps, he saw Elder Zhamu, like a withered tree, standing before him, his gaze as hard as iron:

“If you want to take people, you’ll have to step over my corpse.”

The Wulu barbarian general’s face was grim, “Old man, do you really think I wouldn’t dare to kill you?”

Just as he raised his hand, he heard a childish voice say:

“Stop!”

Xiao Zhatu spread his arms, shielding his grandfather, and bravely glared at the Foundation Establishment Peak Wulu barbarian general:

“How dare you be so audacious, aren’t you afraid of the Shaman Lord’s punishment?”

The Wulu barbarian general sneered, “A little brat, pretending to be so mature, how dare you keep mentioning the Shaman Lord—”

Suddenly, an idea struck him. This child named “Zhatu” was not only Elder Zhamu’s only grandson but also the person closest to the Shaman Lord.

If he captured this child, Elder Zhamu would surely comply.

Moreover, this child might also be the student who received the most true teachings from the Shaman Lord.

The Wulu barbarian general immediately extended his large, fan-like hand and reached for Xiao Zhatu.

His cultivation was too high, his strength too great, and his speed extremely fast. Elder Zhamu could only watch helplessly, unable to react in time.

Xiao Zhatu’s face was pale, his heart cold, but being only at the Qi Refinement stage, he had nowhere to hide and could only tightly close his eyes in紧张.

But the next moment, nothing happened.

Xiao Zhatu was startled, slowly opening his eyes, and saw that the Wulu barbarian general, who had just had a sinister expression, now had an extremely pale face.

Immense fear enveloped his face.

His body was also uncontrollably trembling, eventually his legs buckled, and he knelt on the ground, constantly kowtowing towards the high seat.

Xiao Zhatu was confused, then suddenly startled, turning his head back, and saw a familiar, revered figure occupying the high seat that had been empty moments before.

Xiao Zhatu’s eyes widened, as if he had found his faith, and tears welled up in his eyes:

“Sir!”

At these words, everyone turned their heads and saw that the “Shaman Lord,” who had been missing for over a year, had already appeared without anyone knowing. He sat high on the seat, his gaze unfathomable, silently watching everyone.

It was as if he had just returned.

Or perhaps—he had been there all along, never leaving.

Astonishment filled everyone’s chests. The people in the hall knelt one after another, reverently shouting:

“The Shaman Lord has returned!”

“Greetings, Shaman Lord!”

“Welcome, Shaman Lord!”

Most of the people present were filled with awe and wild joy.

Only the two barbarian generals from the Blackhorn tribe and the Wulu tribe knelt on the ground, their bodies cold.

They were the most powerful people in the room, and also the most terrified in their hearts.

Learning that the Shaman Lord had been sitting high above, witnessing their selfishness, vulgarity, and insolence all along, there was not a trace of color on their faces.

No one knew how much pressure they were enduring spiritually, or what kind of terror they faced.

But they waited for a long time, and the Shaman Lord still did not speak.

It was like a knife hanging over their heads, but it did not fall for a long time, tormenting their hearts.

After an unknown amount of time, Mo Hua said faintly, “You two return and bring Jiaoli and Wucha here.”

The two barbarian generals from the Blackhorn tribe and Wulu tribe felt a chill in their hearts upon hearing this.

Was the Shaman Lord… letting them off?

Or was he going to wait until he saw their respective chiefs, then punish them together and settle their crimes?

A heavy stone weighing a thousand pounds pressed on their hearts, but they had no choice. They could only cup their hands and say, “Yes, Shaman Lord.”

Then the two tall and burly barbarian generals, with hunched backs, respectfully retreated.

After they left, Elder Zhamu spoke, “Shaman Lord—”

Mo Hua nodded, “I know.”

Elder Zhamu heard this and felt awe in his heart.

The Shaman Lord, with divine power comparable to the gods, was indeed omniscient and omnipotent.

All matters would be decided by the Shaman Lord.

So Elder Zhamu said no more.

Mo Hua then looked at Xiao Zhatu, noticing that Xiao Zhatu had grown a little taller in a year and his expression was more determined. Only the yearning in his eyes for Mo Hua remained unchanged. Mo Hua couldn’t help but smile gently, “Take me to see the other children.”

Xiao Zhatu nodded repeatedly: “Yes, Sir!”

Xiao Zhatu led Mo Hua into a secret passage behind the main hall. After walking for a while, they entered a large, relatively crude but very hidden mountain cave that had been recently dug out.

The cave was simple, but the atmosphere was good.

Many children were in the stone chamber, some reading, some drawing formation patterns.

Despite the constant conflicts outside, these children seemed to be largely unaffected.

Xiao Zhatu said, “Things were not peaceful before, so Grandpa made all the disciples live in this large mountain cave.”

“I have also consistently followed Sir’s instructions, practicing every day, learning formations, and urging them to study diligently, not to forget Sir’s teachings.”

Xiao Zhatu said, a proud look on his face.

Mo Hua looked at everything before him, slowly breathed a sigh of relief in his heart, and couldn’t help but gently stroke Xiao Zhatu’s head.

Indeed, education must start with young children.

Some people, once they grow up, are beyond help; no amount of teaching will be effective.