Chapter 777 – The Mural
Mo Hua eavesdropped again on Jin Gui and the demon cultivators' conversation.
Everything was more or less as he expected.
The Evil Armory had been blown to pieces, a total wreck.
The old demon who forged the demonic sword had gone mad. A bit of his blood and flesh remained at the scene, along with two demon cultivator corpses.
The two demons had died tragically, covered in slashing wounds from jointed limbs—clearly killed by the centipede demon's attacks.
It was obvious a deadly struggle had occurred before their deaths.
The killer was the old demon.
Other than that, the refining furnace, blood pool, demonic sword, and formation arrays had all been destroyed, soaked in filthy blood. No one could tell what was important and what wasn't.
Jin Gui was furious, but could only choose to cover it up.
He was in charge—any slip-up would only make the superiors or young master question his competence.
So, sweeping this under the rug was the safest bet.
He didn't dare make a fuss.
As for Ouyang Mu, he was only at mid Foundation Establishment, and a wooden block of a person. Even if he survived by luck, no one would suspect him.
Jin Gui even felt lucky that Ouyang Mu hadn't died in the collapse—otherwise he would've been in serious trouble.
So, for now, Little Wood was safe.
As for Linghu Xiao and Song Jian, their situation was also stable for the time being.
After all, the moment of "truth and betrayal" hadn't arrived yet.
Mo Hua could afford to step away for a while.
He went to see Linghu Xiao and the others and said, "I'm going to scout around a bit. Might take a few days. Be careful while I'm gone."
Linghu Xiao's face was serious as he nodded.
Ouyang Mu added, "Senior Brother Mo, take care."
As for Song Jian, he didn't say a word, just kept a stiff face—yet his heart suddenly felt oddly hollow.
With Mo Hua around—though he was usually invisible—he always felt a strange sense of security. Plus, there was jerky.
But now that Mo Hua was leaving, he suddenly felt a deep sense of unease.
His feelings twisted up into a tangled knot.
Mo Hua, of course, couldn't be bothered with his emotional mess. His figure slowly faded and disappeared.
The three exchanged looks. Without Mo Hua, the Ten Thousand Demon Prison suddenly felt… much creepier again.
At the top of a cell in the Ten Thousand Demon Prison—
Mo Hua's figure slowly emerged.
No demon cultivators were nearby. Only some chained-up demon beasts groaned and howled softly.
Mo Hua pulled out the broken bone sword and asked, "Which way?"
The bone sword was silent.
Mo Hua narrowed his eyes. "Still not talking? I'll scrap you for parts."
Sure enough, a hoarse, hidden voice came from the sword, "Wait… Little Ancestor… I'm telling you…"
There was a pause before the voice resumed faintly.
"…You just didn't hear me…"
Mo Hua focused and finally realized—the old demon was speaking, just not in the usual way. It felt more like…
"Divine sense transmission."
Mo Hua blinked. "You can do that?"
The old demon sighed, "I'm dead, remember? No flesh left, only residual consciousness. I can only 'speak' using divine sense transmission…"
"Oh, right." Mo Hua nodded in realization.
Then he asked, "If I don't speak and only transmit thoughts, can you sense it?"
The old demon hesitated, afraid to say Mo Hua was ignorant, and diplomatically replied:
"Little Ancestor… surely you jest. Below the Ascension Realm, cultivators can't use divine sense transmission."
"Why only Ascension Realm?" Mo Hua pressed.
"Well…" The old demon sounded awkward. "I was only Foundation Establishment. The Ascension Realm is ten thousand miles above me. As for the exact reason… I'm too ignorant to know…"
"Hmph." Mo Hua pouted slightly.
This old thing was all surface, no depth.
But whatever.
"So right now, you can silently talk to me with divine sense, but I have to talk aloud to reply?" Mo Hua asked.
"…Yes." The old demon replied with resignation.
Mo Hua nodded. "Fine…"
He pointed the broken bone sword forward again and asked, "Which way?"
The bone sword was silent again—seemingly thinking or recalling the path. After a moment, the old demon used divine sense to reply:
"To the right. Past the blood-red wolf demon's cell. Second stone gate. Turn right, go inside…"
Mo Hua glanced that way and nodded.
He faded once more and prepared to head in that direction.
But just as he stepped forward, he paused, shook the sword, and warned:
"Old thing, don't try to trick me. I'll show you what 'true terror' means."
The old demon quickly responded:
"Wouldn't dare, wouldn't dare…"
At least for now, it had been thoroughly cowed and didn't dare harbor even a shred of rebellious thought.
And then…
The old demon muttered softly, "I'm not called 'Old Thing'…"
The voice was quiet, but Mo Hua heard it.
"That's true… you're not called Old Thing. What's your name then?" he asked curiously.
The old demon sighed in remembrance. "Before I became a demon… I was a disciple of the Tai'e Sect. Surname Ouyang, given name—"
But Mo Hua wasn't listening at all. He muttered to himself instead:
"'Old Thing' is kinda rude… I'll give you a nickname. I'm great at that…"
The old demon fell silent.
Mo Hua thought for a moment, then his eyes lit up. "You're a sword demon, basically a bone sword… Let's call you 'Swordbones'!"
The old demon nearly exploded.
He thought Mo Hua had just called him a "cheap-boned bastard" (賤骨頭, a pun in Chinese), and was fuming.
His pride refused to accept such humiliation.
But his courage… wasn't enough to protest.
Swordbones it is…
The old demon accepted it and even forced out a compliment:
"Great name… Young Master, you're truly… a genius at nicknaming."
Mo Hua beamed at the flattery and said cheerfully:
"Lead the way, Swordbones!"
Resigned to his fate and nickname, Swordbones replied bitterly, "Yes…"
He began giving directions.
Mo Hua stayed invisible, scanning the surroundings with divine sense while gripping the bone sword. Guided by Swordbones' divine transmission, he navigated the maze-like corridors of the Ten Thousand Demons Prison.
The entire Ten Thousand Demons Valley had been hollowed out from a mountain. It was massive, filled with countless stone halls and chambers, with tightly interwoven corridors and tunnels. Add in patrolling demon cultivators crossing paths everywhere—if you didn't know the way, it was incredibly easy to get lost.
Thankfully, Swordbones was old, experienced, and deeply familiar with the place. Plus, with Mo Hua gripping his "life," he didn't dare mess around and was actually quite reliable.
After who knows how long, Mo Hua finally reached a grand gate.
It towered high, flanked by two colossal statues of ferocious beasts, covered in terrifying demon runes.
This was the main gate of the Ten Thousand Demons Prison.
There were lock-type formations on it—not too sophisticated—but more problematic were the several demon guards stationed there.
"Every six hours, there's a shift change. During that time, there's a brief ten-breath gap…"
Swordbones whispered via divine sense.
But Mo Hua?
Mo Hua, however, didn't have the patience for all that.
He quietly hid in the shadows and picked a red-furred hellhound demon cultivator.
He had already analyzed the Four Symbols Demon Pattern for canine-type demons. The corresponding formation core was neatly categorized in his personal Four Symbols Pattern Archive.
Seizing the moment, Mo Hua used his divine sense to manipulate his spiritual ink.
A blob of spirit ink floated silently in the air, condensing into a thread-thin ink line that slithered like a snake—until it clung to the demon's leg, silently forming the formation core of the Four Symbols Dog Pattern.
The demon cultivator's thick hide dulled his senses.
At first, the hellhound only felt a slight chill on his leg and didn't think much of it.
But by the time he realized something was off about that chill, it was already too late.
The demon pattern lit up, his demonic energy instantly spiraled out of control. Under Mo Hua's manipulation, it reversed flow—charging straight toward his spiritual sea.
The hellhound's divine sense became chaotic. Bloodlust overtook him. In a heartbeat, he turned and lunged at the other demon cultivators around him.
Chaos erupted.
The demon cultivators began killing each other.
Roars, howls, and curses rang out as blood splattered everywhere.
Meanwhile, Mo Hua strolled right out the main gate of the Ten Thousand Demons Prison.
Inside the broken bone sword, "Swordbones" watched everything unfold and felt a deep chill in his core.
He hadn't even seen how this little ancestor did it—how he manipulated the demons into going berserk and slaughtering one another without making a sound.
Those demon guards were no pushovers… yet under this guy's hand, they were like toys.
Terrifying…
Swordbones' rebellious thoughts dwindled even further.
Once outside the prison, several broad roads stretched out ahead.
Mo Hua asked again, "Which way?"
Swordbones trembled and replied, "Left…"
Mo Hua looked up, nodded, and stepped onto the road to the left.
The deeper he walked, the wider the view became—and the more astonished he grew.
The Ten Thousand Demons Valley was massive.
The prison was just one part of it.
Elsewhere, many strange and sinister cultivation buildings stood tall.
If he wanted to explore all of this, it'd take a very long time.
But now wasn't the time. He had to skip it all.
After walking for a while longer, the stench of blood suddenly thickened.
Mo Hua frowned and looked up—what appeared before him was a massive open field filled with rows and rows of giant guillotines.
Each guillotine was rigged with thick chains as wide as a man's torso, and enormous axes powered by formation arrays.
At this moment, a bear demon was chained to one of them.
The formation activated. The giant axe whistled down and cleaved off the bear demon's head. Blood surged like a fountain, pouring into a blood pool below the platform.
Other guillotines held already-executed demon beasts.
Nearby, numerous demon cultivators were busy dissecting the corpses.
They sorted the skins, bones, heads, demon cores, organs—each item processed and stored in its appropriate category.
"This is the slaughter yard…"
Swordbones transmitted.
"Slaughter yard…" Mo Hua repeated softly, frowning.
Swordbones continued, "This place doesn't have an official name. 'Slaughter yard' is just what the demon cultivators call it. All the demon beasts captured and thrown into the prison are disemboweled here…"
Mo Hua nodded and walked on.
After another hour, he spotted a tower-like building in the distance.
"That's the Demon Refining Vessel," Swordbones said.
Mo Hua raised a brow and lowered his voice. "That's clearly a tower. Why's it called a 'vessel'?"
Swordbones explained, "It's said the Demon Refining Vessel is a type of cultivation structure from the Great Wilderness, in the southern barbarian lands. They forge demon towers in the shape of a pot—it's both a structure and a spiritual tool."
Mo Hua looked up. Sure enough, the tower was sculpted with demon images and entwined with flood dragons and serpents. The structure curved inward at the middle and bulged at the top and bottom—it really did resemble a pot.
"Man… those Great Wilderness folks have weird naming habits…" Mo Hua muttered.
Swordbones' soul trembled a bit, unsure how to respond.
Mo Hua asked, "Have you ever been inside that tower—er, vessel?"
"No," Swordbones answered gravely. "I don't know what's inside. I was a refiner. Always forging swords. Never had the chance to enter."
"Alright," Mo Hua nodded. "We'll go around it."
Priorities matter.
The valley was too vast—he'd never finish exploring it all. Better not get distracted.
"Lead the way," Mo Hua ordered again.
Swordbones obediently continued guiding him.
After a while, they came across a whole section of pill refinement rooms—at least several dozen by rough count.
Each pill room housed a white-bone pill furnace.
Many demon cultivators were busily refining demonic pills.
A portion of demon beast materials—especially fresh organs—were immediately hauled over after slaughter and refined into pills while the blood was still hot.
Mo Hua frowned, confused.
"Why are there so many pill rooms in the Ten Thousand Demons Valley?"
"Demonic pills are consumables," Swordbones explained. "The more the better—you can never have too many. After all, there are a lot of demon cultivators in this place."
Mo Hua nodded slightly, then asked curiously:
"What about weapons? Are you the only one who forges in this whole valley?"
Swordbones patiently replied, "Pills are consumables. Demonic tools are durables. Not the same."
"Besides, most demon cultivators rely more on their claws and fangs to kill, not on demonic weapons. Only those whose techniques require demonic tools to cast, or sword cultivators who fell to demonic cultivation but still won't abandon their sword path—those are the ones who use demonic weapons."
"So the demand for weapons is way lower than for pills."
"And… I'm not the only one. There used to be a few other demonic refiners here."
"But they couldn't endure. One by one, they died off."
"In the end, only I was left…"
"Only I was left in the end…"
"Oh." Mo Hua nodded, but then suddenly sensed something fishy. "Wait… those other demonic weapon refiners—don't tell me you were the one who got them killed?"
Swordbones let out a low chuckle. "Not gonna lie, Young Master… in a place like this, only one demonic refiner can last long. The moment there's more than one, the value drops."
…This guy really wasn't anything good.
Mo Hua silently roasted him in his heart.
Still, he didn't really care—after all, it was just a bunch of demonic refiners.
Mo Hua then asked, "There are refining chambers and pill rooms in this valley—so is there a place for array inscription too?"
Swordbones paused, then shook his head and transmitted back,
"That, I wouldn't know. Among demon cultivators, array masters are nearly nonexistent."
"No array masters?" Mo Hua blinked, surprised.
Swordbones explained patiently,
"When someone falls into the demonic path, their body becomes stronger from the boost in demonic power, but the tradeoff is that their divine sense deteriorates, and their mind becomes unstable."
"An array master depends on divine sense—not just strong, but clear-headed divine sense."
"If your divine sense weakens, you can't draw arrays. If your mind's muddled, you'll forget the array patterns themselves. So array masters among demon cultivators are extremely rare…"
Swordbones' voice turned heavy. "I've lingered in this Ten Thousand Demons Valley for hundreds of years… and I've seen barely a handful of array masters."
"Those few either couldn't survive the lifestyle and died early… or after becoming demonized, their minds unraveled and they forgot they were array masters at all…"
Mo Hua frowned. "Then where did all the formations in this valley come from?"
Swordbones hesitated.
Mo Hua tapped the ground a few times with the bone sword.
Swordbones sighed and reluctantly answered,
"The Leader."
Mo Hua's expression turned serious. "The Leader? A demon cultivator at the Golden Core stage?"
"No, not Golden Core," Swordbones corrected. "Still Foundation Establishment. There are only three elders at Golden Core level in this entire valley."
"Then why is a Foundation Establishment guy the leader?" Mo Hua asked, puzzled.
Swordbones replied in a grim tone,
"Because every single Four Symbols Demon Pattern on all the demon cultivators in this valley… was personally drawn by the Leader."
Mo Hua's brow furrowed.
Every demon cultivator's pattern… drawn by him?
That meant this "Leader" had near-complete mastery over all types of Four Symbols Demon Arrays?
And he even knew divine-path formations?
Doesn't that mean… he's even more skilled than me?
A Foundation Establishment cultivator that good at formations?
Mo Hua refused to believe it.
Well, more accurately, he couldn't accept it.
Until now, he hadn't met another array master in his realm that could match him, let alone surpass him.
"Something doesn't add up…"
Mo Hua thought for a bit and then narrowed his eyes. "You said all demon cultivators' patterns were drawn by this 'Leader'?"
"But this Ten Thousand Demons Valley has been around for at least several hundred years, right?"
"If this Leader is only at Foundation Establishment, how could he still be alive after all this time?"
Swordbones shook his head. "That… I don't know. The Leader is extremely mysterious. I've been here for centuries and have only seen him a handful of times, from a distance. I know nothing of his origins."
"…Weird."
Mo Hua muttered under his breath.
This "Leader" definitely harbored some kind of secret.
But right now, time was short—he couldn't dwell on it.
There were more urgent matters at hand…
He didn't plan to linger in the pill refining area anyway—those were all demonic pills. Even if he stole them, they wouldn't be of much use.
"Keep leading the way," Mo Hua said. "Take me to that 'Demon Refining Diagram'."
Swordbones hesitated.
Especially now, in his state as a resentful spirit, he didn't know why, but the Demon Refining Diagram filled him with deep dread.
He warned cautiously,
"That thing… it's dangerous. You'd best not approach it carelessly…"
"How dangerous?" Mo Hua asked.
Swordbones opened his mouth to speak, then suddenly froze.
Right. The diagram was dangerous—but so was this little ancestor holding him hostage.
Swordbones sighed.
Forget it. None of them are good people anyway.
Fine, I'll take him.
Hopefully this monstrous little devil dies in the Demon Refining Diagram. Then I can finally be free.
Maybe I'll even find a new "sword slave" and claw my way out of this hellhole and see the light again.
And no one will ever call me "Swordbones" again!
A faint glimmer of hope bloomed in Swordbones' undead heart.
He became even more eager to help.
In his mind, Mo Hua was nothing short of a devil.
The Demon Refining Diagram was a purgatory.
And devils… belong in purgatory.
His job now was to guide this little devil into that "hellfire painting" and pray he never came out.
"Young Master, please follow me. I know this route well—I promise we won't go wrong."
Swordbones said flatteringly.
Mo Hua nodded in satisfaction.
So Swordbones led the way, and Mo Hua followed, weaving through dozens of pill rooms, crossing wide stone halls, slipping past countless patrolling demon cultivators, and finally scaling a broken cliff.
When he raised his head—
What came into view was a massive mural etched into the cliffside.
In the mural, demons and monsters raged in chaos and violence.
Mo Hua's heart quaked.
"This… is the Demon Refining Diagram?!"
(End of this Chapter)