Chapter 1061: City of Flesh and Blood
The blood river flowed atop an immense isolated cliff.
Mo Hua, relying solely on himself, used his divine sense to control spiritual ink. Like a "tentacled monster," he painted array formations at an astonishing speed, following Mr. Tu's "intentions" without pause.
One formation after another was etched onto the foundational cliff face.
The cornerstones of the Blood Sacrifice Grand Array were being laid bit by bit and gradually refined.
Thanks to Mo Hua—this emotionless "array machine" who was worth a hundred men—the internal construction of the array was significantly accelerated.
Mr. Tu could finally free up manpower, redeploying more evil array masters from within to the edges of the grand array—the frontline of the righteous and demonic factions' conflict—to expand the array's range and broaden the evil god's territory.
At the same time, learning from previous mistakes, Mr. Tu assigned far more demonic cultivator guards to protect the evil array masters—more than double the number from before.
The Qianxue factions were vast, and the Dao Court Office was powerful.
These demonic guards might not be able to truly resist the assassinations and raids from the Dao Court Office's Golden Core henchmen.
But delaying the enemy, buying time for these array masters to complete their assigned formation tasks—that alone was enough.
After the mission was done, even if every one of those evil array masters were slaughtered by Gu Changhuai, it wouldn't matter.
Offering their lives to the God Lord—even down to flesh and bone—was their honor. They should feel proud.
Within the Blood Sacrifice Grand Array, Mo Hua continued to draw array formations.
The array kept operating, kept evolving.
And at the edges of the array, cultivators from both righteous and demonic sects clashed again and again in battles over the evil array masters…
Everything was unfolding just as Mr. Tu had anticipated—the tide was beginning to shift.
Originally slowed by suppression from various Qianxue factions, the construction of the Blood Sacrifice Grand Array was now, under Mo Hua's "intervention," overcoming obstacles and advancing steadily, one step at a time...
On the right side of the array's foundation, in a secret chamber—
Mr. Tu and Shangguan Wang were watching Mo Hua not far away—his technique uncanny, yet diligently painting formations.
"Mr. Tu," Shangguan Wang frowned, "are you really at ease letting that boy draw those formations?"
Mr. Tu replied calmly, "Only he can do it…"
Within the entire Desolate Heaven Blood Sacrifice Array, those with deep knowledge of righteous-path formations were extremely rare.
And someone who could draw formations as fast as Mo Hua—utterly unique.
Mr. Tu himself could do it too, but only by relying on the divine sense of his Nascent Soul realm and the skill of a fourth-grade array master to suppress the level and draw lower-grade formations quickly.
That was no comparison to a Foundation Establishment cultivator like Mo Hua, who could use divine sense to manipulate ink and draw high-tier second-grade formations—a monstrous talent.
Besides, with the God Lord's resurrection near, Mr. Tu had more important things to do. He couldn't afford to waste his talents drawing foundational arrays by hand.
Shangguan Wang was both jealous and resentful. Sensing a threat, he said coldly:
"This kid will never be loyal to the God Lord."
Mr. Tu glanced at him, half-smiling. "Elder Wang, are you truly loyal to the God Lord?"
Shangguan Wang's expression darkened.
Mr. Tu said blandly, "The God Lord is strict, but also tolerant. As long as one works loyally in His name, a few minor thoughts or selfish desires will not provoke His wrath."
He was speaking of Mo Hua—but also offering a warning to Shangguan Wang.
Shangguan Wang's eyes narrowed. He sneered, "I only fear that in the end, you'll be the one betrayed by this scheming brat."
He was trying to sow discord. Mr. Tu, of course, understood, but said nothing, his expression indifferent.
Shangguan Wang stared hard at him and said gravely:
"He who is not of our path must have different intentions."
"This kid is, after all, a disciple of the Taixu Sect. Mr. Tu, are you really not afraid that he'll turn on us and ruin our grand plan?"
Mr. Tu gave him a cold glance, inwardly understanding why Shangguan Wang had lost to Shangguan Ce in the battle for their clan's leadership.
His vision was far too narrow—and he lacked the capacity to accommodate others.
Those who achieve great things must be able to tolerate others, even if that person is a sworn enemy.
Only by accepting others can one best make use of them.
Still, Shangguan Wang had his uses, so Mr. Tu had to endure his small-mindedness.
Some things, however, had to be made clear.
"Elder Wang," Mr. Tu said solemnly, "cultivators are judged by deeds, not thoughts. No one knows what you think inside, nor do they care—they only see what you do."
"The Dao Court Office passes judgment based on actions, not intentions."
"What you do is more important than what you think."
"And now…" Mr. Tu pointed outside, "what is that Mo Hua doing?"
Shangguan Wang frowned.
Mr. Tu grinned, a sinister smile spreading across his face. "He is painting... the Desolate Heaven Blood Sacrifice Array!"
"Even though what he draws are Five Elements and Eight Trigrams formations—righteous formations—once they are incorporated into my Blood Sacrifice Array, then without question, they become demonic formations!"
"A prodigy of the Taixu Sect, the top array genius in Qianxue, drawing a blood sacrifice grand array for us—no matter what he paints, no matter if it's voluntary—he has violated Taixu Sect rules, broken the Qianxue state's interdictions, and gone against Dao Court law. It is an unforgivable crime—an eternal stain on his name…"
"And when the array is complete and activated in full—rivers of blood, cities built of flesh, a horde of demons gathering, untold devastation—how many will die?"
"All those dead cultivators, all those wiped-out lives—their cause will trace back to him. The blood on his hands will never be washed away."
"With no path back to the righteous way, burdened by karmic slaughter… tell me," Mr. Tu's eyes flickered with grim ghostly fire, "what will become of this array genius? What path will he have left?"
Shangguan Wang's gaze trembled.
If it truly came to that, this boy would be rejected by the righteous path, with nowhere to turn. From body to heart, he would have no choice but to fully submit to the Great Wilderness God Lord, becoming a terrifying demonic array master—forever unable to return.
Shangguan Wang looked at Mr. Tu, feeling a chill deep within.
Mr. Tu continued, "That's why I'm not afraid of him drawing formations, or learning them—in fact, I welcome it."
"The more he draws, the more he learns, the more he's involved. The deeper the karma, the harder it is to escape."
"And that karma—all leads to a single path…"
That path: loyal service to the Lord of the Great Wilderness, total obedience, a life of fire and blood.
Mr. Tu sneered, "I'm taking this boy to the Ten Thousand Demons Assembly so that the demonic leaders of every sect can bear witness."
"To witness that this boy once stood with us—not only attending the assembly, but personally drawing the Desolate Heaven Blood Sacrifice Array."
"Once he does all this, he will undoubtedly be labeled a demonic cultivator!"
"Unless he somehow has the ability to kill every single one of the countless Golden Core demonic cultivators in this evil temple and erase all traces…"
"Otherwise, with so many eyewitnesses, the truth unshakable—when the righteous sects hear of it, no matter how clever he is, he'll have no way to deny it!"
The cultivation world is treacherous—its deepest dangers hidden in seemingly mundane encounters.
A single misstep on the path between righteous and evil leads to eternal damnation.
No matter how young or brilliant a genius you are, under the lure of desire and the whim of fate, you may fall step by step into darkness.
Mr. Tu's gaze grew colder, and a twisted smile crept onto his lips.
Shangguan Wang looked at him, a deep fear emerging in his eyes.
On the other side, under Mr. Tu's "guidance," Mo Hua remained completely unaware, diligently drawing array formations—seemingly oblivious to the fate he was walking into.
On the other side, under Mr. Tu's "guidance," Mo Hua was still completely unaware, diligently drawing formation diagrams, seemingly oblivious to what he was doing—or what it was all for.
Just like that, the number of formations he drew increased steadily, and so did his "contribution" to the Desolate Heaven Blood Sacrifice Grand Formation.
After who knows how many days, through tireless effort—neglecting sleep and food—Mo Hua finally finished covering an entire majestic cliff face with formation diagrams.
When he drew the final stroke, he let out a long breath of relief and collapsed to the ground as if utterly exhausted.
Even though he was a leading figure in the Dao of Formations, with profound mastery, capable of drawing formations at lightning speed and recovering his divine sense quickly—
Even so, completing such a massive foundational portion of the grand formation alone was still incredibly taxing.
What's more, he had used the technique of "divine sense controlling ink," which consumed his divine sense greatly and placed even more strain on his sea of consciousness.
Of course, for all his efforts, Mo Hua had also gained quite a bit.
Thanks to this large and complex volume of foundational formation practice, he now understood the basic framework of the Desolate Heaven Blood Sacrifice Grand Formation even more thoroughly.
Long hours of divine sense control over the ink, fully committed to drawing formations, had increased the load on his sea of consciousness, which also meant it had undergone more tempering—naturally making it tougher and granting him greater precision in control.
Furthermore, while using divine sense to control the ink, Mo Hua had also employed a bit of his secret Divinatory Calculation method.
After drawing so many formations, his skills in using divine sense for calculation had also been trained and improved to a certain degree.
This was a rare opportunity.
Under normal circumstances, Mo Hua wouldn't have access to this much spirit ink, this many formation materials, nor the leisure to open his divine sense fully and draw to his heart's content.
In essence, Mr. Tu had been "funding" Mo Hua's formation training out of his own pocket.
Not only had he provided the location, the diagrams, and the materials, but he'd even locked himself away so that Mo Hua could have ample time to work.
Thinking of it that way, Mo Hua actually felt like he'd profited from the deal.
He almost believed that this Mr. Tu was a "truly good person."
Moreover, Mr. Tu might soon turn into an even greater "benefactor"...
After resting a while, Mo Hua sat in meditation, recovering his divine sense. Then he went to inspect all the formation diagrams, attempting to activate them—formation lines lit up, shining with brilliance, and spiritual energy flowed without the slightest obstruction.
Once he confirmed everything was in order, he nodded, sat cross-legged where he was, and waited for Mr. Tu with eager anticipation.
After a while, he felt a chill along his back, as if something sinister was approaching.
Mo Hua's eyes lit up and he quickly turned his head. Sure enough, he saw Mr. Tu—pale as death, long and thin like a hanging corpse.
Mo Hua stood up and courteously cupped his hands. "Mr. Tu, I've finished."
Mr. Tu gave a slight nod. Then he raised his head to look at the vast cliff face, where countless intricate lines interwove—dense yet precise, every stroke methodical and flawless, like the work of a master craftsman. Glowing light shimmered over the elaborate formations, radiating a beauty born from complexity. He could not hide the shock in his heart.
"Mr. Tu…"
"Mr. Tu?"
Mo Hua called out twice before Mr. Tu returned to himself and slowly turned to face him.
Mo Hua asked, "I've finished all these formation diagrams. Could you teach me the core of the grand formation now?"
His eyes were full of expectation and a pure thirst for knowledge.
Mr. Tu's gaze narrowed slightly, then he nodded. "I can."
Then he spoke the familiar line: "Follow me," and turned to leave.
Unable to conceal his joy, Mo Hua followed behind Mr. Tu, walking along the cliff faces and rivers of blood into a secret chamber, where they came before a wall.
Mr. Tu used the same trick as before—pressing his palm as a seal to form a blood-colored mark, which merged into the wall, revealing a fleshy tunnel.
He was about to continue walking in, but just as he took a step forward, he paused, turned back toward Mo Hua with a cautious look in his eyes, and waved his hand in front of him.
Mo Hua saw a flash of red before his eyes—his vision filled with bloodlight. He could see nothing, hear nothing.
He understood clearly—Mr. Tu didn't trust him and didn't want him to memorize the path.
"Follow me."
A voice echoed in Mo Hua's sea of consciousness—but it wasn't exactly a voice. It was more like a divine sense transmission.
At the same time, a thread of blood appeared in front of Mo Hua's eyes, seemingly guiding his way.
He could only follow this thread, step by step.
As he walked, the atmosphere suddenly shifted.
Mo Hua noticed the ground beneath his feet was soft and sticky, as if he were stepping on fresh flesh. A bloody stench curled around his nose, the air thick with the pungent scent of blood—it was nauseating.
He continued forward. The atmosphere grew heavier and heavier. He had no idea how long he'd walked when the blood thread disappeared.
The aura of formations around him also grew increasingly intense.
The oppressive feeling reached its peak.
There was even a faint, imperceptible sensation—like a heartbeat echoing through the void—making it hard to breathe.
"We're here."
Mr. Tu's cold voice rang out, then he lifted the seal on Mo Hua.
All of Mo Hua's sealed senses returned at once. A flood of sensations—gloom, cold, fear, despair, horror, pleading, and agony—rushed in like a tidal wave and drowned him instantly.
Mo Hua slowly opened his eyes, and his pupils shrank sharply.
In that moment, he felt as if he had descended into the depths of hell.
Yu'er's words once echoed in his ears:
"Many people will die...
Blood will flow into the rivers, bones will build towers, human flesh will form a fortress, and all of it must be connected..."
What he saw before him was the most vivid manifestation of those words.
This was a terrifying, blood-drenched fortress of flesh.
Blood flowed like a moat.
The city walls were built from piled white bones, cemented with flesh, forming a gruesome whole.
Ghostly flames flickered atop skulls, and faces of the dead emerged from the city walls, filled with sorrow and despair, painting the backdrop of a hellish flesh-and-blood purgatory.
Mo Hua's whole body felt frozen—he didn't know if it was from rage or terror. His hands trembled.
The concept of an "evil god" began to take a more tangible shape in his mind.
Mr. Tu silently observed Mo Hua without speaking, letting him digest the gore, disgust, shock, and terror that this scene brought.
Only after a long while did Mr. Tu slowly ask:
"Do you still want to learn the Desolate Heaven Blood Sacrifice Grand Formation?"
Mo Hua's face first showed fear, then paled, and finally froze in stunned disbelief. Looking at the mass-murder-forged fortress before him, his expression crumbled and he shook his head.
"I… I don't want to learn it anymore…"
Mr. Tu sneered coldly.
"That's all the backbone you have?"
Mo Hua's face turned even paler, then as if provoked, he burst out emotionally:
"You… how many people do you have to kill for this… I'm a formation master, I won't do something so cruel and inhumane…"
"And then what?" Mr. Tu's gaze was icy as he bore into Mo Hua. "When the demonic path kills, do you righteous types not kill?"
"I…"
"You've been to the tombs at Lone Mountain, haven't you? Did you see what was in there?"
Mo Hua bit his lip hard, his face ashen.
Mr. Tu said:
"Not many people died there? Such a massive mine pit—hundreds of thousands of rogue cultivators—buried alive, slaughtered. Isn't that killing?"
"And that's just what you saw. What about what you didn't see? The monopolies, exploitation, oppression, and further crushing of rogue cultivators by the great clans and sects—these things happen all across the land. Even now, they continue endlessly."
"And then? Who cares?"
"The exploiters live lives of luxury and honor. The sufferers die in obscurity, unacknowledged."
"When people are humble, their lives are worth less than grass. You came from humble roots—you should understand this best."
Mo Hua's expression was full of pain.
Mr. Tu looked at him, then after a pause, softened his tone:
"This is the nature of the world. For one general to succeed, thousands must perish. If you want success, if you seek the Dao, you must climb—step by step—over the corpses of others."
"Any hesitation, weakness, confusion, kindness—will become your weakness. They will drag you into the abyss of failure, reduce you to a beast or a pawn beneath others."
"The path to immortality is paved with bones."
"If you don't exploit others, where will the resources for cultivation come from?"
"If you don't trample others, how will you rise above them?"
"On this point, the righteous and the demonic are the same. The righteous hide behind pious names, deceiving themselves and others. The demonic are simply honest and unashamed."
"There is no real difference between good and evil. Evil is good. Good is evil."
"When you truly stand at the peak, with transcendent cultivation and supreme power, you'll realize: the masses are but ants. Their lives mean nothing—they're merely stepping stones on your path to the Great Dao."
"Heaven and earth are heartless, treating all living things as straw dogs. And since they're straw dogs, what does life or death even matter?"
"If needed, slaughtering ten thousand beings—so what?"
Mo Hua trembled, his face shifting with emotion. His worldview seemed shaken, collapsing piece by piece.
Mr. Tu observed this with satisfaction, then said:
"Come with me. Let me show you a truly supreme, otherworldly formation—one that transforms flesh and blood into divine power…"
In Mo Hua's once-tormented and hesitant eyes, a strange light began to glimmer. As if seduced by Mr. Tu's words, he followed him almost instinctively—step by step—through the blood and corpses of tens of thousands, walking deeper into the flesh-and-blood fortress…
(End of this Chapter)