Chapter 798: Eyes
Ku Mountain was deep and tranquil.
Sunlight filtered through the dense forest canopy, breaking into scattered beams that painted the ground in patches of brightness and cool shade.
Along the stone steps, fallen leaves had piled into soft mounds. Walking on them felt like stepping on clouds.
This seldom-visited mountain exuded a unique, serene charm.
Mo Hua stepped on the leaf-covered stairs and once again arrived at the broken-down temple.
Inside, the temple was as run-down as ever.
The roof still leaked rain; the walls still let in the wind. The offering table was barren—not even a stale bun left—only a pool of murky rainwater settled in a bowl, dirty and neglected.
The mud statue of Lord Huangshan wore a face full of suffering.
When people are poor, life is hard.
When mountain gods are poor… life is no better.
The moment Mo Hua stepped through the door, a wisp of smoky spiritual energy emerged from the statue—the form of Lord Huangshan himself, floating lazily in the air. He forced a smile and clasped his hands respectfully:
"Greetings, young friend…"
Mo Hua grinned happily and waved at him:
"Mountain Lord, long time no see. Did you miss me?"
Miss you? I missed your big fat ghost!
Not even a little…
Your absence was the best peace I've had in ages.
Lord Huangshan cursed in his heart, but his face beamed wider:
"Of course, of course. I've missed you dearly, young friend. It's been far too long…"
Mo Hua nodded, quite pleased.
Lord Huangshan sighed internally.
No wonder he'd been feeling restless the past few days—turns out the little calamity was coming again.
But what could he do? The temple was fixed in place. He couldn't run even if he wanted to. All he could do… was accept his fate.
Mo Hua swept his gaze around the ruined temple and, pitying Lord Huangshan's miserable state, placed the offerings he had brought—chicken, duck, fish, and meat—onto the altar.
Though Lord Huangshan wasn't fond of Mo Hua's visits, he couldn't resist the food offerings.
Ku Mountain was desolate. With no one making offerings, he was practically starving—just a fading spiritual shadow now.
Even knowing Mo Hua was "up to no good," he had no choice.
After arranging the food, Mo Hua asked:
"By the way, Mountain God, do you eat incense too?"
"Yes…" Lord Huangshan replied, gratified.
"Perfect," Mo Hua said. "I brought you a stick of incense too. Let me light it for you."
The incense burner was in terrible shape—what was once bronze was now coated in a layer of black grime.
Mo Hua washed it clean, added some grain at the bottom, then covered it with a layer of ash. He lit a stick of incense and gently placed it in.
But the moment he did—
Lord Huangshan felt as if a massive iron hammer had smashed into his chest.
His heart nearly jumped out of his throat.
He let out a panicked cry:
"No—!"
Mo Hua paused mid-motion, turning to him in confusion.
"You don't want incense?"
Lord Huangshan's chest still heaved with lingering shock. His eyes were wide with lingering fear.
Just now—just in that moment—that wisp of incense fire had weighed on him like a mountain. He couldn't breathe under the pressure.
He… couldn't withstand it.
What the hell?
This incense from the young brat… he couldn't afford to eat it?
Lord Huangshan stared deeply at Mo Hua, then forced a twisted smile:
"Your kind gesture, young friend, I deeply appreciate it. But let's skip the incense for now. I've been starving too long. A bit of food is enough. As for incense—if I eat it, I might overdo it…"
"Overdo it?" Mo Hua was puzzled. "Gods can… overeat?"
But whatever. If he didn't want it, he didn't want it.
Probably got too used to starving. Eat too much at once, and you'd get indigestion.
Mo Hua nodded.
"Then go ahead and enjoy the offerings."
"Many thanks, young friend."
So from the clay statue, Lord Huangshan drifted gently down to the altar and began consuming the offerings Mo Hua had laid out.
He ate. Mo Hua couldn't just sit there and stare.
So he pulled out his own stash of snacks from his storage pouch, jumped onto the altar, and sat beside Lord Huangshan, the two of them eating together.
While chewing, Lord Huangshan discreetly studied Mo Hua.
And then he realized—Mo Hua had changed again.
His aura was restrained. His divine sense was whole. He felt oddly approachable—but hidden beneath that warmth was a subtle sense of majesty that made Lord Huangshan tremble.
The mountain god's heart skipped a beat.
He wasn't mistaken… It had only been a year.
And in just one year, this little brat had undergone another transformation, as if reborn.
Even more absurd—Mo Hua's spiritual sense had clearly grown stronger.
Exactly how strong… Lord Huangshan couldn't quite tell.
A person's divine sense was usually sealed within their sea of consciousness. Only a sliver was ever visible externally.
Foundation Establishment cultivators couldn't project their true spirit outward. To truly perceive their divine sense, you'd either have to enter their dreams… or invade their consciousness.
Lord Huangshan sneaked a glance at Mo Hua.
"Enter his dream… or intrude on his mind?"
The moment that thought appeared, he crushed it.
Messing around like that—deadly.
For humans, overstepping meant death.
For gods? The same.
"As a man must stay honest, so must a god. I'm not who I used to be. I must behave myself…"
He silently chanted this mantra in his heart.
Then, content, he continued eating his offering.
Mo Hua wolfed down his food, eating fast and furious.
Lord Huangshan was a god, so he had to maintain decorum—he ate slowly, politely, with style.
When Mo Hua finished, he grew bored and turned to ask:
"Mountain Lord, can I ask you something about divine-sense sword manifestation?"
Lord Huangshan was munching politely on a drumstick. He blinked, surprised:
"Didn't you already ask me about that?"
Mo Hua nodded.
"I did. But I've been thinking about it again. I've got some new questions."
Before, he had no clue how to manifest a sword from divine sense—pure rookie stuff.
But now things had changed. He'd learned a bit of the [Sword Condensation Mantra], and had one foot in the door. With that basic understanding, his questions had become more refined.
Lord Huangshan wanted to refuse.
Especially when it came to "divine-sense sword manifestation"—a painful subject for him.
But… he had eaten Mo Hua's food, and he didn't dare turn him down.
Especially now—with that growing pressure coming off Mo Hua—he felt he couldn't say no.
"Please ask, young friend. I'll answer all I know."
"Good." Mo Hua nodded and asked the first of the questions he'd pondered:
"Mountain Lord, for Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation… must it always be a sword?"
"Naturally. Otherwise, why would it be called *'Divine-Sense Sword' Manifestation?"
"What I mean is—after turning divine sense into 'sword intent,' must it always attach to sword qi or a spirit sword to be usable? Can't it be used directly?"
"That…" Lord Huangshan hesitated, clearly unsure.
"I never formally studied it, so I can't say for certain. But the sword cultivator I once fought did indeed carry his sword intent through an actual sword."
"Besides, to manifest sword intent without relying on sword qi or a spiritual sword… even if it's possible, it would require you to cultivate this method to an incredibly profound level."
"If you're just starting out, still unfamiliar with sword techniques, and already want to skip using a sword entirely—that's like trying to sprint before you've even learned how to crawl."
Mo Hua suddenly understood.
Yeah… that made sense.
Sword qi and spirit swords were like crutches.
With the crutch, one could support the sword intent and begin practicing Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation.
Only when one had truly mastered the sword—profoundly and completely—could they consider discarding the crutch and using pure divine intent to kill.
And even then, against a true powerhouse, relying solely on sword intent wouldn't be enough.
You had to merge sword, sword qi, and sword intent into one to fully unleash the power of the Great Void's Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation Technique.
"The Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation of the Great Void relies on the sword as its medium…"
Mo Hua muttered softly, then asked again:
"So, if it doesn't use a sword as the medium, what would Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation look like? Is it like this—"
He raised two fingers and made a flashy motion through the air.
"—just point, and whoosh! A sword of divine intent flies out, like controlling a flying sword?"
Lord Huangshan scratched his chin.
"Probably not like that… but I can't really remember."
"Try harder," Mo Hua urged. "Dig into your memory. Back when you were being slashed by Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation—what exactly was happening?"
Lord Huangshan: "…"
This kid really knows how to rub salt in a wound.
So he endured the heartache and forced himself to recall it—that fierce battle he had tried so hard to bury deep in memory.
Bit by bit, it came back to him.
His presence shifted. For a moment, he didn't seem like a lowly mountain god anymore—his gaze carried an inexplicable dignity.
He spoke slowly:
"In that battle, I was corrupted by evil thoughts, nearly lost my mind, and fought that sword cultivator purely on instinct."
"That man… he relied entirely on a bonded ancient sword to perform his techniques."
"His sword intent was vast—like the great void itself—fused into that ancient blade, sharp to the extreme. With mere mortal flesh and the sword arts of a cultivator, he could wound a divine being like me."
"I'm not familiar with the technique, but judging from the fight, the Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation is still, essentially, a sword art. The sword carries the divine-born sword intent—so it still revolves around the sword."
"In fact, to an outsider, it would just look like an ordinary sword cultivator using ordinary sword techniques."
"Only gods or cultivators skilled in divine sense would understand its true might…"
Mo Hua sighed, a little disappointed.
"So no matter what, I still can't get away from sword techniques…"
That was… his absolute weakest area.
Even though his flying sword techniques looked impressive, Mo Hua knew in his heart: his so-called "swordplay" was actually just divine-sense telekinesis. It looked like swordplay, but wasn't true swordsmanship.
"Not necessarily…"
Lord Huangshan frowned.
Mo Hua blinked.
"What do you mean?"
The mountain god furrowed his brow, digging deeper into his memories. His eyes grew sharp as he spoke:
"I remember now—during that battle, I went berserk and slapped the ancient sword right out of that sword cultivator's hands."
"Once he lost his sword, he immediately fell to a disadvantage. I rushed in to finish him off—and just then, his eyes… lit up."
Mo Hua's eyes widened.
"His eyes?"
"Yes," Lord Huangshan nodded.
"His eyes suddenly gleamed, as though sword-light had condensed within them—unbelievably sharp. I only looked at them for a moment and felt a stabbing pain in my own eyes… like my divine sense was being shredded by ten thousand blades."
"And in that brief moment, he used his divine sense to summon the sword back to his hand and resumed the fight."
"But that technique—condensing sword-light in the eyes—he used it only once, in that moment of life and death. We fought to the bitter end, yet he never used it again."
"So that means…" Mo Hua's eyes lit up, "Even without a sword, Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation can be used through the eyes?"
"I don't know," Lord Huangshan shook his head.
"I only saw him do it once. I don't even know if that was really a technique from Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation…"
But Mo Hua ignored him. His thoughts had already raced far ahead down this path.
Eyes… sword-light… slaying intent…
But something still puzzled him, so he asked:
"Why the eyes? Why not the mouth, or nose, or ears? Is it because the eyes are the window of divine sense?"
"Exactly," Lord Huangshan nodded.
"A cultivator's divine sense dwells in their sea of consciousness and projects outward. The strongest external point for divine sense projection is the eyes."
"The eyes are the windows of the soul—and the gateway of divine intent."
"But by that logic, a cultivator's greatest weakness in divine sense also lies in their eyes."
"Evil spirits and demons lure souls in many ways—some through sound, some through scent—but the most insidious tricks lie in visual illusion."
"Some ghosts—you glance at them just once, and your soul is snatched away."
"So that's how it is…" Mo Hua murmured in sudden realization.
He silently made note of it.
He had to try training his eyes to emit sword-light.
If he could pull that off, he wouldn't even need a sword anymore.
Mo Hua wanted to ask more about Divine-Sense Sword Manifestation.
But no matter how hard he "coaxed" Lord Huangshan to dig up that traumatic past, there were no more answers to be found.
The mountain god just looked pitiful.
Mo Hua didn't push him further, and instead asked a different question:
"Mountain Lord… what path do the gods walk?"
Gods are born of the Dao. Though long-lived, they are not immortal.
And if they're not immortal, they too must pursue the Dao and the Way of Immortality to truly become eternal.
So then… do gods also cultivate the Dao?
"What kind of Dao do gods cultivate?"
"Is it the same 'evolution of divine sense'—the qualitative transformation of spirit?"
Lord Huangshan replied:
"I'm not familiar with how cultivators phrase it, but in the tradition of the gods, this so-called qualitative transformation of divine sense is known as the process of continually merging with the Dao."
"In divine terms, this is called… Dao Transformation."
Dao Transformation?!
Mo Hua's expression changed sharply.
Suddenly, he remembered—back when he devoured the divine marrow and fused divinity with humanity, he seemed to receive some kind of vague enlightenment from the void.
And in that moment… one term had surfaced in his mind, almost by instinct:
"Divine-Sense Dao Transformation!"
These four characters felt as if they had been engraved into his divine marrow. As his understanding of the Dao deepened, they surfaced naturally—
As though they were part of… Some kind of divine inheritance?
And that wasn't all…
Mo Hua vaguely remembered—long ago, in a desolate mountain range, he had ambushed and killed a black-robed leader of a human trafficking ring.
That man had been possessed by a horned demon linked to a Great Wilderness Evil God.
That demon had been some kind of divine carcass—and it had said something to him at the time:
"You possess the foundation of Divine-Sense Dao Transformation. But why is your divine marrow so thin?"
"Why is there no trace of sacrificial offerings?"
"Why is your humanity overflowing… and your divinity so faint?"
"This is impossible…"
Back then, Mo Hua hadn't understood the path of divinity at all, let alone these cryptic terms. So he had brushed them off without a second thought.
But now, connecting all the dots—he was beginning to understand.
The so-called divine path… was it the process of 'Dao Transformation' through divine sense?
And had he unknowingly already begun Dao-transforming his own divine sense?
Mo Hua frowned, muttering under his breath: "Divine-sense Dao transformation…?"
But Lord Huangshan overheard—and quickly corrected him with a shake of the head: "Not divine-sense Dao transformation. It's Divine-Intent Dao transformation."
Mo Hua blinked.
"What's the difference?"
Lord Huangshan explained:
"A cultivator's spiritual awareness is called 'divine sense' (神識), but all other types of willpower or conscious force are collectively called 'divine intent' (神念).
And among all divine intents in existence, that of the gods reigns supreme."
"Only a god's divine intent can undergo Dao Transformation. That's why it's called 'Divine-Intent Dao Transformation.' A cultivator's divine sense won't cut it."
Mo Hua quietly asked:
"No exceptions?"
Lord Huangshan shook his head firmly.
"Humans are humans. Gods are gods. If there were exceptions—wouldn't that blur the line between the two? It would go against the laws of the Great Dao…"
But then he glanced at Mo Hua—and suddenly froze.
Strange signs… odd anomalies… everything about this boy started resurfacing in his mind.
His heart skipped a beat.
"You're not…?"
Mo Hua blinked innocently.
"I'm not what?"
Lord Huangshan paused.
What was he supposed to say?
That this mortal—this ordinary young cultivator—had actually achieved Divine-Intent Dao Transformation?
…No. That couldn't be right. It was too absurd. He had never heard of anything like it in all his long life.
Because to undergo Dao Transformation, one didn't just need immense divine sense.
It required qualitative transformation, enlightenment, and—most crucially—pure divine marrow that was unimaginably rare.
Even true deities struggled to Dao-transform their divine intent.
And this kid was just… a fledgling mortal?
Lord Huangshan finally relaxed and sighed: "It's nothing. Just me overthinking."
Mo Hua blinked and didn't dare ask any more questions—afraid he'd slip up and reveal too much.
After all, Huangshan might look ragged, but he had lived a long, long time. A little too much talking, and the old mountain god might actually figure it out.
And Mo Hua had no idea how dangerous "Divine-Sense Dao Transformation" truly was.
It might be something terrifying—some unspeakable taboo that must never be revealed to anyone… even to other gods.
If word got out… It could bring down unimaginable disaster.
And if Huangshan figured it out…
Then there'd only be one solution: He'd have to silence him.
Mo Hua sighed.
He didn't have many divine beings as "friends."
Unless absolutely necessary, he really didn't want to lose this one.
Suddenly, Lord Huangshan felt a cold breeze on his neck.
He shivered and nervously glanced at Mo Hua.
"Little friend… don't tell me you're…"
"Nothing at all." Mo Hua smiled reassuringly. Then he looked up at the sky.
"It's getting late. I have other things to do—I should get going."
Lord Huangshan felt an overwhelming sense of relief.
It was as if the bloody executioner's blade hanging over his head had just vanished.
"Take care, little friend!" he said with a grin.
Mo Hua nodded and walked toward the exit—but just as one foot crossed the threshold, he suddenly turned back.
Lord Huangshan's heart jumped.
"L-Little friend… something else?"
Mo Hua glanced around the temple, then asked:
"Mountain Lord, your temple's in terrible shape. Want me to find someone to help fix it up?"
Lord Huangshan's expression tensed slightly. He quickly replied: "I'm grateful for your kindness—but though the temple leaks wind and rain, I've grown used to it."
"As the saying goes: Grand temples are for grand gods. Small shrines… for small gods like me."
"Oh…" Mo Hua nodded.
But then his gaze narrowed. He looked directly at Huangshan and asked slowly: "Mountain Lord… are you hiding from something?"
The moment those words fell…
Lord Huangshan's face changed instantly.
(End of this Chapter)