Chapter 577: Night of Surprises
Chapter 577: Night of Surprises
Deep in the mountains, the scenery was both treacherous and enchanting.
A thick layer of fallen leaves blanketed the ground, decomposing into soft, muddy earth beneath one's feet.
Pale miasma hung in the air between the mountains, while milky clouds lingered among the trees.
A babbling brook, of unknown origin, wound its way through the rugged landscape, caressing the jagged stones before disappearing into the distance.
Mo Hua took a pill to ward off the miasma, purging his body of its toxic influence. He released his spiritual sense, vigilant for any beasts lurking in the forest, as he cautiously made his way along the rugged mountain path, heading north.
He traveled for most of the day until the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the mountains into twilight. The deep forest grew increasingly shadowy and mysterious.
Mo Hua looked up, noticing that the night was thick with fog and miasma, obscuring his spiritual sense. Its range was less than half of what it had been during the day.
The demonic energy in the mountains also began to thicken.
Some beasts, more active at night than during the day, seemed to be slowly awakening. In the desolate night, they emitted eerie, indistinct roars that reverberated through the mountains.
Mo Hua frowned.
It seemed he wouldn't be able to travel by night...
He recalled the old man's mention of a ruined temple and, relying on his memory, released his spiritual sense to locate it. He headed toward a hidden mountain path.
Passing through a grove of trees and climbing over a massive boulder, he continued on for another half an hour before finally spotting the ruined temple halfway up the mountain.
The temple was dilapidated, but there was a hint of human presence, suggesting that cultivators occasionally passed through and rested there.
The demonic and miasmic energies in the vicinity were also somewhat weaker.
In front of the ruined temple was a set of stone steps, crude and steep.
Mo Hua ascended the steps with light, graceful footsteps, soon reaching the temple's entrance.
One of the temple's large doors was missing, while the other bore the marks of sun and rain, its paint peeling.
Inside, the walls were dilapidated, the wind whistling through them. The place was filthy and disorderly.
The cold moonlight shone through the roof, illuminating a clay statue in the center. Its face glowed with an eerie white light.
The statue had an elongated face, resembling a human yet lacking human characteristics.
In the moonlight, its eyes took on a strange gleam, staring at Mo Hua through the darkness, its gaze neither human nor beast.
Unafraid, Mo Hua met its gaze with his large, curious eyes.
After a while, as the moonlight shifted, the statue's gaze seemed to shift away...
But Mo Hua didn't let it off the hook. He walked right up to the statue, his eyes deep and probing.
The statue remained still, as if it had never moved.
Mo Hua jumped onto the altar and examined the statue. "That's odd," he muttered. "Where is it? It should be here..."
"It must be here..."
"I couldn't have made a mistake..."
Mo Hua's face was filled with confusion.
The statue's eyes had lost their luster, as if it wanted to close them.
Mo Hua licked his lips. "What a pity..."
He jumped down from the altar and cleared a space on the ground. Using his spiritual sense to control his brush, he drew a Warm Fire Array.
The array ignited, casting an orange glow that dispelled the darkness within the temple and the chill of the mountains.
Wrapped in a small blanket, Mo Hua basked in the warmth of the fire.
As the warmth spread, Mo Hua's stomach rumbled, and he pulled out some mountain potatoes and dried meat from his storage bag to roast over the fire.
He savored the sweet potatoes, chewed on the spicy beef, and drank the sweet fruit wine brewed by his mother.
Mo Hua bobbed his head in contentment.
After his fill, Mo Hua extinguished the fire array, wrapped himself tightly in his blanket, and fell asleep on the residual warmth of the ground.
The ruined temple fell silent once more.
The cold moonlight shone down, illuminating the eyes of the clay statue on the altar.
The statue's icy gaze lowered, focusing on the bundled-up figure of Mo Hua, who was sleeping soundly, oblivious to his surroundings.
The statue's eyes flickered, deep in thought.
After a long moment, a faint white light emanated from the statue.
This light was ethereal, vague, and elusive.
It could be sensed spiritually but not seen with mortal eyes.
The white light gradually elongated, slowly condensing into a slender human figure.
It emerged from the statue, its body human-like but its face resembling a demon. It had long whiskers, narrow eyes, and yellow fur.
The demonic figure tiptoed closer to Mo Hua, its movements synchronized with the howling wind. Extending its long claws, it spoke in a strange voice, "Little friend..."
"Turn around and look..."
"Look and tell me who I am..."
It wanted to implant this sinister voice into the young cultivator's dream, startling him awake.
But before it could finish, the seemingly sleeping Mo Hua turned his head, his large eyes fixing on the figure. "Who are you?" he asked.
The figure with the sinister face was startled.
"You... you're not asleep?"
Then it was taken aback again. "No, wait, you can see me?"
"Didn't you want me to look at you?" Mo Hua asked, puzzled.
"No, no..."
The figure shook its head repeatedly. By "look," it had meant for Mo Hua to see it in his dreams, where it would manifest as a terrifying nightmare.
It hadn't expected Mo Hua to actually see it with his physical eyes.
The figure became flustered. "What is this little brat? How is he able to see me?"
It couldn't fathom how Mo Hua had perceived it. Could it be that his spiritual sense was exceptionally strong? But that didn't seem possible for someone so young.
"Who are you?" Mo Hua asked again.
The figure snapped back to attention, its face twisting with anger. Just as it was about to speak, it noticed Mo Hua's eyes, clear and sharp, with a hint of strangeness, as if they could see right through it.
The figure's heart skipped a beat as Mo Hua's crisp voice rang out, "Are you the entity within the clay statue?"
"The statue in the Mountain God's Temple..."
"Are you the Mountain God?"
"No," Mo Hua replied. "The old man in the foothills told me that the Mountain God had turned sinister and was already slain."
"So, you're an imposter?"
"Your human body with a demonic face, inhabiting the clay statue, suggests that you are neither human nor demon, but a divine thought form. Either you are inherently sinister, or you are a human-turned-ghost..."
The figure's expression darkened.
How did this brat know so much?
How old was he? He spoke as if he dealt with demons and ghosts every day...
The figure revealed its fangs and said menacingly, "Are you scared now? Now that you know, why don't you..."
Before it could finish, a fireball came whizzing toward it.
The fireball was fast and accurate, its flames swirling as it headed straight for the figure's face.
But the fireball passed right through the figure's face and flew out the door, exploding outside and engulfing several boulders in flames.
This outsider junior cultivator was utterly rude! To disagree and throw a fireball at him without any provocation?
Fortunately, he was a divine thought-form, and spiritual power-based spells could not harm him, otherwise, his face would have been disfigured by now.
"How bold!" The demon's shadow glared, its face contorted with anger. It wanted to teach this junior cultivator a lesson and show him the rules of being a cultivator!
But Mo Hua acted as if he hadn't seen a thing...
"Fireball jutsu is useless, huh..."
"Is it because it only affects the spiritual power level...?"
"Evil thoughts... divine sense..." Mo Hua mumbled to himself as he pondered.
His previous clashes of divine sense had taken place within his sea of consciousness, where every technique and spell was a manifestation of his divine sense, capable of harming evil thoughts.
But now, outside of his sea of consciousness, Mo Hua lacked experience and wasn't sure what methods would be effective.
Mo Hua continued to ponder, oblivious to the demon's growing fury.
The demon's shadow seethed with anger. This young brat dared to treat him with such disregard, as if he was nothing!
He may have fallen from grace, but he was once the Mountain God, revered and worshiped. Even in his current state, he refused to be humiliated by a mere child to such an extent! Within his own temple, empowered by his statue, his divine sense was stable.
As a divine thought-form, he was impervious to physical and spiritual attacks, essentially invincible.
Initially, he had intended to merely frighten this junior cultivator away.
But since the boy showed no respect, the demon decided to teach him a harsh lesson about the cruel world of cultivation...
The demon's eyes turned crimson, and its aura surged, causing its skinny form to swell with muscle. Fur sprouted from its limbs, transforming it into a massive "Yellow Pelt."
Mo Hua, far from being intimidated, watched with curiosity.
He had seen demons transform into "Evil Spirits" and "Zombies," but this was his first encounter with one that turned into a "Yellow Weasel."
The Yellow Pelt glared at Mo Hua with menacing eyes, as if ready to pounce.
Mo Hua thought for a moment and decided to take the initiative. With a tap of his small hand, he used his spiritual ink to set up a Golden Lock Array beneath the Yellow Pelt's feet.
The first-grade Golden Lock Array was simple, so he set it up quickly.
Once the array was complete, golden chains appeared, binding the Yellow Pelt.
The Yellow Pelt struggled, snapping a few chains before breaking free. However, it was still shaken by the array's power.
"An array?" The Yellow Pelt was astonished. "How did this brat set up an array without brush or paper?"
Mo Hua, on the other hand, nodded in satisfaction. His hypothesis had been correct.
The power of spells was determined by spiritual power.
While arrays were also constructed with spiritual power, they incorporated the principles of the Grand Dao and were infused with a large amount of divine sense.
Thus, divine sense could counter divine thought-forms.
Spells couldn't harm the Yellow Pelt, but arrays were effective against this physical manifestation that had no blood or flesh, and was immune to spiritual power.
However, compared to arrays formed purely by divine sense within the sea of consciousness, these external arrays were slightly less powerful.
Nevertheless, as long as they worked, that was all that mattered...
Moreover, the array he had just used was only a first-grade one.
Mo Hua took out several bottles of spiritual ink and began to focus his divine sense, manipulating the ink to construct a more complex array...
The Yellow Pelt felt a twinge of anxiety as it watched Mo Hua's calm and collected demeanor.
It felt like the situation was slipping out of its control...
This little brat remained unflustered, countering each move with ease and confidence. The Yellow Pelt couldn't see through his intentions.
Forget it?
But how could he, the Mountain God, back down from a fight with a mere junior cultivator without becoming a laughingstock? The Yellow Pelt gritted its teeth and steeled itself, preparing to pounce on Mo Hua.
But before it could even get close, golden ink patterns appeared beneath its feet, forming a triple Golden Lock Array that trapped it once more.
The Yellow Pelt clawed and scratched, finally breaking free again.
As a former Mountain God, despite its weakened state, it could still handle a first-grade array.
However, before it could catch its breath, it looked down and saw even more Golden Lock Arrays appearing beneath its feet.
The Yellow Pelt was both startled and fearful.
"What's going on with this brat...?"
"What kind of education has he received? How is he able to set up arrays like this?"
It couldn't win against someone who could set up arrays like this...
The Yellow Pelt considered retreating.
"Do you want to surrender?"
But that thought was quickly dismissed.
How could the once-revered Mountain God beg for mercy from a junior cultivator? It would be laughed out of existence if word got out.
It could tough it out for now...
A junior cultivator, no matter how strong their divine sense or array formation skills were, couldn't keep it up forever.
When they both reached their limits, it would pretend to call it a "draw" and suggest they both back down to save face...
However, before it could finish its train of thought, the Yellow Pelt's eyelids began to twitch.
It noticed fiery red patterns appearing around its body, with surging spiritual power flowing within them, and a powerful divine sense swirling around it...
A second-grade array!
And not just any second-grade array, but a killing array of at least the twelfth or thirteenth level of the second grade!
The Yellow Pelt's heart trembled as it widened its eyes, immediately discarding its pride as the Mountain God and shouted:
"Little friend! Little friend!"
"Let's talk this out!"
Mo Hua ignored it and continued to set up his array...
The Yellow Pelt gritted its teeth and shouted, "Little master! Little ancestor!"
"Please, stop! If you keep going, I'll be finished!"
It had worked hard to condense this rudimentary form, and another blast would cause its soul to scatter, never to recover.
Mo Hua stopped.
Not because he wanted to, but because he couldn't continue.
While his divine sense was strong, using this high-difficulty method of array formation with his divine sense to create a thirteenth-level second-grade Earthfire Array was already taxing his limits.
Setting up the Golden Lock Arrays earlier had consumed a significant amount of his divine sense.
He estimated that he wouldn't be able to complete this second-grade array, and even if he did, his divine sense would be nearly depleted.
Moreover, seeing how cooperative the Yellow Pelt had become, even addressing him as "little ancestor," Mo Hua decided to show "mercy" and spare it for now.
Mo Hua walked up to the Yellow Pelt and asked, "Did you want to harm me?"
The Yellow Pelt replied helplessly, "I just wanted to scare you..."
Mo Hua was puzzled. "For no reason at all, why would you want to scare me?"
The Yellow Pelt gave a bitter smile. "Your divine sense is peculiar. As soon as you entered, you stared at the statue of the Mountain God as if you had seen something..."
"I was afraid you had seen through my true nature and would bring me trouble, so I wanted to frighten you into leaving early. I had no other ill intentions..."
"Oh..." Mo Hua nodded slightly, still looking doubtful. He then asked, "Who are you?"
Yellow Pelt quickly added, "I'm not deceiving you, young friend. I am indeed the mountain god, known as Lord Yellow Mountain. With my yellow demonic pelt, bearing the surname Yellow, and being the mountain god, thus the name 'Mountain Lord'..."
"Initially, I cultivated the Dao, but things took a wrong turn, and evil thoughts sprouted, which led to my downfall at the hands of righteous cultivators..."
"However, due to my deep roots, a thread of life remained."
"Over the years, I've guarded this dilapidated temple, dispelling miasma and demons, and providing a resting place for traveling cultivators, thereby weaving a thread of benevolent karma."
"Moreover, with the statue of the mountain god and the offerings, I was able to condense this broken body. Yet, my strength is but a shadow of its former self, barely sustaining my existence..."
Lord Yellow Mountain sighed, his expression filled with regret.
Mo Hua, noticing the sincerity in his demeanor, chose to tentatively believe him, but still warned with a crisp tone, "You'd better not be lying to me, or I'll eat you!"
Lord Yellow Mountain was taken aback, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
In his mind, he thought, "What a child. Even his threats are so innocent."
"I'm a divine thought-form. How could he possibly..." Lord Yellow Mountain's voice trailed off as he felt a tug on his spiritual causality, his heart filling with unease.
"This..."
"Could this young cultivator truly devour me?"
"No... Perhaps he has already consumed many like me..."
Lord Yellow Mountain's eyes widened in fear as he contemplated the implications.
"What is this young cultivator? How is he even more frightening than I am?"
Lord Yellow Mountain wanted to slap himself for his misfortune.
"Why did I have to provoke this little troublemaker?" he berated himself.
"When this little ancestor first entered, why didn't I just hide in the clay statue and pretend to be dead?"
"Why did I have to be so foolish and take a look at him?"
Lord Yellow Mountain's heart sank as he regretted his actions.
Mo Hua, on the other hand, studied Lord Yellow Mountain intently before asking, "I have some questions for you."
Lord Yellow Mountain immediately retracted his demonic form, revealing his true appearance—a human body with a demonic face. He bowed respectfully and replied, "Ask away, young master."
Mo Hua asked, "You are a divine thought-form, but are you considered a human or a demon? And what exactly is a mountain god?"
"What qualifies something as a 'god'?"
Mo Hua fired off a series of questions, leaving Lord Yellow Mountain somewhat surprised.
He had expected this young cultivator, with such profound mastery over divine senses, to come from an illustrious background. Yet, the questions he posed varied in depth.
There were things he shouldn't have known, yet he did, and his understanding was profoundly insightful.
But then there were basic concepts that he seemed to be unaware of...
"Is it a case of an incomplete legacy, or did his master only teach him halfway?" Lord Yellow Mountain wondered to himself, deciding to be truthful nonetheless.
He feared that Mo Hua might be testing him, pretending not to understand, only to seize on his words and devour him.
After all, the path of cultivation was treacherous and unpredictable.
Lord Yellow Mountain explained, "All divine thought-forms, including the consciousness of cultivators, the ghostly thoughts of vengeful spirits, and the evil thoughts of demons, are illusory 'thought-forms.'"
"Ghosts are thought-forms."
"When a cultivator reaches their limit, their physical body perishes, and their consciousness transforms into a ghostly entity."
"These ghosts and demons, with their shattered consciousness, often prey on the consciousness of others, especially those of their loved ones, as they find it nourishing."
"'Gods' are also a type of thought-form."
"However, achieving godhood is extremely challenging, and it involves concepts like the Grand Dao, causality, reverence, and offerings."
"I am merely a minor mountain god, sustained by the offerings and reverence I receive. Through a stroke of fortune, I attained the position of a mountain god, but the deeper mysteries elude me..."
"Especially..." Lord Yellow Mountain's face paled as he continued, "there are ancient and primordial beings in this world, known as primordial fiends, evil gods, and demon gods..."
"These entities are unseen, unknowable, and they border on the realm of the 'Dao' and 'Immortality'..."
A chill ran down Mo Hua's spine as he realized that the world of cultivation was far vaster, deeper, and more terrifying than he had imagined.
Mo Hua's gaze intensified as he studied Lord Yellow Mountain, and he asked, "Mountain God, you cultivate the righteous path, so you're considered good, right?"
Lord Yellow Mountain gave an awkward smile and replied, "Yes... At least my consciousness is clear, and I yearn for reverence and benevolent karma, striving for a positive outcome..."
"Then why did you turn evil before and get slain?" Mo Hua asked, his curiosity piqued.
Lord Yellow Mountain winced as if stabbed in the heart. After a moment of hesitation, he reluctantly answered, "Well... It's inevitable to make mistakes during cultivation..."
"I became too complacent as a mountain god, and my consciousness stagnated. Evil thoughts arose, and I... I mean, the previous me, gave in to temptation and consumed a few humans..."
Mo Hua's eyes turned cold, causing Lord Yellow Mountain to shiver.
"It wasn't me!" he quickly clarified. "It was the previous me!"
Mo Hua's expression remained stern as he retorted, "So, the previous you isn't you?"
Lord Yellow Mountain felt like crying but had no tears. "The evil thoughts took over, and I couldn't control them..."
"And then?" Mo Hua pressed.
"Then... After consuming those humans, my consciousness became tainted, but it also grew stronger. Just as I, no, the previous me, was reveling in my newfound power, a nearby righteous cultivator from a prominent sect discovered my actions..."
"There was a sword cultivator clad in white, whose cultivation was profound. With a single strike of his sword, he slashed at me..."
"After the strike, due to the benevolent karma I had accumulated, a wisp of my consciousness remained..."
"That sword cultivator spoke of mercy and the value of life, and he spared me, saying that life and death should not be decided so hastily."
"However, he also warned me that if I continued on the path of evil, he would eradicate me without hesitation."
"So, young master, I truly dare not harm you..." Lord Yellow Mountain pleaded, his heart aching with sincerity.
"Hmm." Mo Hua nodded, then suddenly recalled another question. "You're a mountain god and a divine thought-form. How did that sword cultivator slay you with his sword?"
"It's..." Lord Yellow Mountain's eyes reflected the terror he had experienced. "A sword of consciousness..."
Mo Hua's eyes widened in realization.
"Consciousness..."
"Transformed into a sword!"
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
