Chapter 876 – Self-Slaughter
Mo Hua could tell—the Evil Embryo was panicking.
When your enemy panics, it means you're doing the right thing.
And if they panic a lot—you're doing something very right.
So Mo Hua slashed even harder.
The ancient sword intent within the bamboo sword transformed into a massive blade, vast and heavy, shifting between illusion and reality, like the great void itself. It came crashing down upon his own soul.
It felt like being cleaved in two.
A surge of agonizing pain flooded his senses.
Mo Hua gritted his teeth, furrowed his brow, enduring this self-inflicted soul-splitting pain.
But the Evil Embryo hurt even more.
Within Mo Hua's soul dwelled seven Po, the seven spiritual aspects. He had only cut one—Fuxi Po, the one where the Evil Embryo resided.
While Mo Hua only cut one-seventh of his soul, the Evil Embryo had no such division—it was cut entirely.
So the pain the Evil Embryo felt was at least seven times worse. Same for the damage.
Thinking this, Mo Hua suddenly didn't feel quite as bad.
"That little demon brat dared to leap into my face and disturb my Dao heart—I'll make it pay!"
Mo Hua gritted his teeth and slashed three more times.
These three slashes were brutal and heavy, each one making the Evil Infant scream in agony. It shrieked, then cursed:
"You little suicidal bastard! Are you trying to die?!"
"Slashing your own soul—aren't you afraid of soul-death and annihilation?!"
Mo Hua ignored it.
He kept things simple: if he could use his hands, he wouldn't bother using his mouth.
Disable your enemy first, talk later.
And if you really can't win, then you talk.
But clearly, he had the upper hand here. Talking would just waste time.
Mo Hua slashed again.
The tearing pain flooded his soul. But it hit the Evil Infant's soul with sevenfold force.
The Evil Infant howled in torment. Its face contorted. Using every bit of strength, it forcibly broke through Mo Hua's spiritual seal and emerged from Fuxi Po.
It poked its head out—trying to catch its breath.
The Evil Infant's head emerged.
At the same time, another head suddenly grew from behind Mo Hua—dark, filthy, grotesque and wicked.
It was the Evil Infant's head.
And in that exact moment, Mo Hua's eyes lit up.
His small hand shot out like lightning, grabbing the Evil Infant by the neck. Without a word, he dragged it by the throat—straight toward the Dao Monument.
On the Dao Monument, crimson tribulation lightning crackled menacingly.
The Evil Infant, suddenly strangled, felt a chill crawl down its spine.
"This brat set me up!"
And then it sensed the apocalyptic aura on the monument—it was terrified.
Without hesitation, it shed a layer of skin, dissolving into a puddle of black water, and in that final moment, it escaped back into Mo Hua's soul.
By the time Mo Hua thrust the creature into the tribulation lightning, his hand was empty.
Only some thick black sludge remained—what the Evil Infant had just shed.
"Shed its skin?"
Mo Hua frowned.
Where did this little demon learn that trick? It didn't know this before…
Or was this some innate divine ability, now slowly awakening with its memories?
It was a headache. And a pity.
"So close…"
The plan had been perfect:
– First, use the God-Slaying Sword cultivation method to self-slash his soul, forcing the Evil Infant out through unbearable pain.
– Then, while it was distracted and furious, seize the moment and wipe it out with tribulation lightning.
It almost worked.
But the Evil Infant was too quick, and had somehow learned this bizarre "skin-shedding" technique.
If it had been just a little slower...
Or didn't know how to shed its skin...
It'd be dead.
Now the duck he nearly cooked had flown the coop—and Mo Hua was not happy.
The Evil Infant, now back in Mo Hua's soul, went completely silent. Not even a wisp of aura leaked out.
"Hey," Mo Hua said. "Come out."
"Weren't you just real cocky?"
No response.
"If you don't come out, I'll start slashing again."
Still nothing. It stayed curled up in Fuxi Po, trembling like a terrified bird.
A fully-formed Evil Embryo, scared into silence.
Mo Hua gritted his teeth and summoned the ancient sword intent again—slashing his soul once more.
The pain was sharp as ever. The Evil Infant finally growled from the shadows:
"Fine! Slash all you want…"
"Evil thoughts are self-sustaining. Undying. Let's see who breaks first—you or me."
And with that, it went completely still.
No matter how much Mo Hua slashed, it never made a peep.
Eventually, Mo Hua had to stop.
Slashing your own soul really hurts.
At least when the Evil Infant was screaming, he had a reference point. A little emotional satisfaction.
But now? It was like hurting himself for no reason.
So Mo Hua stopped.
And the moment he did, the sword wounds on his soul screamed with residual pain.
Mo Hua clutched his head—his body trembling.
"Crap… too much…"
It hadn't felt so bad during the slashing—but now all the pain hit him like a tidal wave.
Agony spiked.
Mo Hua immediately activated his divine sense, using the last of his Soul Marrow to heal the damage.
The Soul Marrow seeped into his body like a universal elixir, repairing the shattered fragments of his soul.
But right then, he sensed something.
The Evil Embryo stirred—greedy and craving the scent of Soul Marrow.
Yet in the end, it didn't dare move. Didn't dare try and snatch it.
"Smart choice."
Mo Hua snorted coldly.
Still, he wasn't relaxed.
This round, he'd given the demon brat a lesson—but the result still felt like mutual damage.
Granted, the Evil Embryo took the worse hit.
Mo Hua's loss was "minor" in comparison.
But things couldn't keep going like this…
Though he'd suppressed the Evil Embryo's arrogance, his own soul had suffered.
Tempering the soul with a sword—self-slashing the soul—truly was as dangerous as Venerable Grandmaster Dugu had said.
Even he struggled. Let alone others.
Mo Hua sighed.
For those seniors of the Great Void Sect who didn't walk the path of divine sense, yet still managed to master the God-Slaying Sword through sheer effort—their talent, willpower, and comprehension were truly admirable.
Because to cut your own soul...
That's just on another level.
"So… should I keep training the God-Slaying Style?"
Mo Hua furrowed his brow.
He sat in meditation for a long time, thinking carefully.
Then, silently, he made up his mind.
He must persist.
Even if it hurt his soul—he had to learn it.
Normally, he wouldn't have rushed. He could've followed Venerable Dugu's gradual, methodical guidance.
But this wasn't a normal situation.
The Evil Embryo was lodged in his soul, feeding off his spiritual sea, slowly awakening powers and memories.
It was a massive hidden threat.
It had to be eradicated.
This Evil Embryo left him with no other option.
If he didn't learn the God-Slaying Sword, and couldn't sever it—then the moment anything went wrong, the demon could hijack him.
And he would fall.
Become a puppet of the Great Wilderness Evil God.
So, the God-Slaying Sword—must be mastered.
His enemy was the Evil Embryo—and in the future, possibly the Evil God itself.
The Dao Monument and tribulation lightning may exist in his consciousness—but they were still external aids.
Only the God-Slaying Sword was something he could truly control—the one technique that could reverse the tide and slay the evil.
"My life," Mo Hua said, eyes steely, "must stay in my hands."
Mo Hua's eyes were resolute.
But now, the only problem left—was the residual damage from slashing his own soul.
Soul Marrow could repair those injuries, but after several instances of soul damage, Mo Hua didn't have much left.
And with less Soul Marrow, his Divine Sense manifestation had also dimmed a little—no longer radiating with golden brilliance like before.
"That is a problem…"
At present, he had no way to replenish his Soul Marrow. And since he was restricted by the Evil Embryo and still needed to spend large amounts of time learning both formations and sword techniques, there was no chance he could go wandering off in search of sacrificial altars.
Mo Hua frowned deeply.
Just then, he noticed something sticky and grimy on his hands. Looking down, he saw that his palms were smeared with black slime.
Apparently, this was the shed skin from when the Evil Embryo had forcibly escaped—its old, cast-off bloodied flesh.
It was filthy. Mo Hua found it revolting.
But after a moment's pause, his eyes flickered, and he casually tossed the dirty blood-skin onto the Dao Monument, letting the tribulation lightning strike it.
A faint, eerie howl—like that of a demonic beast—echoed for an instant.
Then the black qi evaporated, the evil intent was purified, and the once-filthy blood-skin began to ooze out pure golden Soul Marrow.
Even more shocking—the color of this golden marrow was deeper, purer, even slightly crystalline compared to all the Soul Marrow he had previously obtained.
Mo Hua scooped some up with a finger, tasted it—and his eyes lit up.
"So pure!"
Unfortunately, there wasn't much. A few licks, and it was gone.
Still, even though it left him wanting more, a realization dawned on him:
"I nearly forgot… that Evil Embryo is the fetus of a Great Wilderness Evil God. It must be saturated with Soul Marrow!"
And since it was parasitizing his soul…
In other words, a Soul Marrow treasure trove was now lodged inside his own divine soul!
The only catch? He had to find a way to extract it himself.
Mo Hua's eyes immediately sparkled with excitement.
"I must master the God-Slaying Sword!"
Slay the Evil Embryo = yummy rewards!
But… how to slay?
Mo Hua thought for a bit and gradually formed a plan.
The God-Slaying Sword, after all, was a kind of self-inflicted injury. It couldn't be rushed. One slash per day was enough—to avoid overloading and damaging his soul.
Just one slash.
Use this single slash—a soul-splitting stroke—to comprehend the God-Slaying sword intent and refine the God-Slaying Sword Style.
Day by day. Water wears away stone.
One day, he would definitely be able to completely destroy that Evil Embryo!
And if he could rely solely on his own power, using his own Divine Sense to channel the Void's sword intent and slay the Evil Embryo—that would mean…
Even if not full mastery, his God-Slaying Sword would have at least reached minor completion!
This Evil Embryo would serve as both his training dummy and his whetstone—testing how sharp his blade had become.
And once it was truly slain, the trove of Soul Marrow it left behind would be enough to fully repair all the accumulated soul wounds from this brutal training.
Calamity and blessing are two sides of the same coin.
The Evil Embryo was a threat—but also the perfect opportunity for him to master the God-Slaying Sword.
Mo Hua's thoughts churned with intensity, though on the surface he kept a troubled expression, even letting out a pained mutter:
"That sword strike had way too much backlash… I shouldn't have used it…"
Naturally, this line was heard by the Evil Infant lurking in his soul.
It gave a mocking laugh—clearly ridiculing Mo Hua's recklessness and ignorance.
Slashing your own soul—what do you think this is, some heavenly sublimation ritual to ascend through corpse-shedding?
Foolish mortal…
The Evil Infant had assumed Mo Hua would back down after feeling the pain.
What it didn't expect was that from that day on…
Mo Hua slashed once every day.
No more. No less. One sword.
It didn't hurt the Evil Infant much—more like a daily torment and humiliation.
The Evil Infant burned with rage—but could only endure in silence.
It was waiting. Waiting for Mo Hua to slash himself too many times… until one day, his Dao deviated and he suffered a great calamity.
Then, it would strike.
The Evil Infant grinned sinisterly—but hadn't finished smiling when Mo Hua suddenly scolded:
"Sit still, you little punk!"
"Your expression shows on my face. Don't think I didn't notice you smirking."
The Evil Infant's face turned as black as ink.
From that point on, Mo Hua maintained his daily one self-slash regimen.
Several days passed, and it was time for his next seven-day training session. Venerable Grandmaster Dugu tore open the void and yanked Mo Hua into the back mountain to teach him more sword techniques.
After finishing the lesson, Grandmaster Dugu gave him a once-over. Seeing that Mo Hua looked a bit fatigued, he frowned:
"You injured your soul?"
Mo Hua obviously couldn't admit it. He just shook his head.
"I've been studying formations too much lately—overused my Divine Sense, so I'm just tired."
Dugu was silent for a moment—but didn't seem suspicious.
Mo Hua's condition could look like soul injury, but also matched simple mental exhaustion from intense training.
Normally, someone with soul damage would look dull, mentally scattered, and suffer constant stabbing pain in their consciousness. Mo Hua didn't seem that bad.
He might look tired—but his spirit still burned strong.
Dugu didn't press him, but he still gave a word of caution:
"Cultivation is like water dripping through stone. Don't overstrain yourself."
"Also, the sword scar on that bamboo slip contains an ancient sword intent of the Great Void Sect. It's not something you can comprehend yet. Don't get discouraged if you can't understand it."
"Just contemplate it from time to time. Let its intent soak into your spirit. That'll help greatly when the time comes to truly learn the God-Slaying Sword."
Mo Hua bowed earnestly:
"Many thanks for your guidance, Grandmaster!"
Dugu nodded.
"You may return."
"Understood." Mo Hua cupped his fists and took his leave.
Dugu sent him back to the disciples' quarters.
There was still time before dawn.
Mo Hua used it wisely—diving into his spiritual sea to practice array formations at the Dao Monument.
When he was done, and dawn was nearly upon him, he exited the spiritual sea, took out the bamboo slip, visualized the sword—and slashed himself.
It hurt. A lot.
Mo Hua clenched his teeth and hissed, then silently chanted:
"The Evil Embryo hurts more than me. The Evil Embryo hurts more than me…"
And sure enough, the pain eased slightly.
But afterward, his thoughts turned to what Grandmaster Dugu had said earlier—especially about the ancient sword intent sealed within the bamboo slip.
Something about it felt… off.
As if Dugu's words and his own understanding didn't completely align.
He couldn't say exactly what was off, but…
"Don't tell me… I'm learning it wrong again?"
Mo Hua pondered a moment.
No way.
I only learned Fireball wrong because my Divine Sense is special.
I only learned Sword Manifestation wrong because I lacked proper inheritance.
I only messed up Divine Dread Sword because no one taught me…
But now? I've got the bamboo slip. Grandmaster Dugu himself is teaching me.
Surely I can't mess this one up too, right?
Mo Hua shook his head repeatedly.
Impossible. Absolutely impossible!
Besides, he had been perfectly following the eight-character method: "Tempering the spirit with the sword, slashing one's own soul."
Not a single word was missing!
How could he possibly have gone off-track?
Mo Hua finally set his worries aside.
The morning sun rose, its warm light spilling into the disciples' quarters—a new day had begun.
After his daily "self-slash" to refresh his spirit and clear his mind, Mo Hua felt invigorated and threw himself into a new day of cultivation.
He remembered Venerable Elder Xun's instructions—ignore all else, focus on cultivating and studying formations in peace.
But while he was minding his own business, diligently training…
The entire Ganxue Prefecture Realm was in turmoil.
Tai'a Sect
In the Sect Master's Hall, the Tai'a Sect Master and several elders were in the middle of a tense meeting.
"Sect Master, the negotiations failed…"
"The Four Major Sects are pressuring us. The Dao Court Division refuses to back down. The matter of the Rouge Boat can't be suppressed. Even if we wanted to delay it—we can't."
Another elder sighed,
"Our original intent was to 'feed the hawk with our own flesh'—sacrifice some sect interests to buy time."
"Those disciples who boarded the Rouge Boat and violated both the Dao Court's laws and our sect rules… we didn't plan to let them off. We just wanted to delay their punishment until after the Dao Conference."
"After all, with the sect's restructuring at hand, this first Dao Conference carries too much weight."
"But now… sigh…"
One elder grimly added,
"It's no use. This was clearly a setup. Nearly all our sect's elite disciples got wiped out in it."
The Tai'a Sect Master immediately sneered,
"Elite disciples? Young and arrogant, instead of training properly they sneak off to brothels and engage in shady business. And you call that 'elite'?"
He was a tall, brawny man with dark skin, upright features, a blunt tongue—and a fiery temper.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. He slammed his fist down:
"If it weren't for the upcoming Dao Conference, and me giving in to your pleading for the sake of the sect's interests—I'd have crippled those animals' cultivation and expelled them all already!"
"Then we wouldn't have to grovel and eat dirt from the Four Major Sects and the Dao Court!"
The other elders didn't dare interrupt.
Only an older, senior-ranking elder sighed gently:
"The mortal world is full of temptation—dazzling and chaotic. They're young, their Dao hearts unsteady, blood hot—it's not surprising they fell into temptation."
"What's more, some of them were clearly framed. Some were threatened or coerced. For many, it was their first time on that boat…"
"We elders neglected our duties, failed to anticipate danger. We can't escape blame either…"
The Tai'a Sect Master didn't argue.
Not just the elders—he, as Sect Master, bore responsibility as well.
Always aiming higher, dreaming of rising during the sect's reform—he never noticed the trap laid right under his feet. And now they had fallen, bleeding.
One elder's eyes turned grim:
"It's all too coincidental. There's no way the Four Major Sects weren't behind this."
"Even the Dao Court—maybe even the Central Dao Court—must've stirred the pot from the shadows…"
"But what's the point in saying that now?"
"Everyone knows they plotted against us!"
"With such critical positions at stake, how could the Four Major Sects just hand them over?"
"Still… such despicable tactics…"
"If they win, it's called strategy. If we lose, it's called underhanded."
"We haven't necessarily lost yet…"
"Don't talk nonsense. At this point, how can we win? Forget 'moving up'—we'll be lucky just to keep our current spot."
"What, now you're just waving the white flag?"
"I'm just stating the facts…"
The elders argued and bickered, their voices rising in intensity.
Finally, one elder coughed deliberately, and the room gradually quieted.
The Tai'a Sect Master's face was like still water—cold and unreadable.
At last, he let out a long, helpless sigh:
"Let's send a new batch of disciples. Have them train hard and polish their skills in the time that's left. That's all we can do for this Dao Conference…"
All the elders nodded in agreement—but their faces were clouded with gloom.
Even the Tai'a Sect Master himself didn't feel hopeful.
Do everything you can. Leave the rest to fate.
All he could do was silently pray in his heart:
"May the ancestors bless us… and help Tai'a Sect get through this ordeal."
Chongxu Sect – Back Mountain Cave Residence
Venerable Ancestor Chongxu was also speaking with the Chongxu Sect Master:
"What's done is done. Despite all our planning, the heavens hid the truth, and we stepped right into someone else's trap. We can only accept the loss."
"We've done all we can. Now, it's up to fate."
The Sect Master sighed:
"Hopefully this batch of substitute disciples can deliver a surprising performance…"
Venerable Chongxu nodded—though he held little hope.
In cultivation, weak is weak, strong is strong.
On rare occasions, the weak defeat the strong—but that's luck.
But in the Dao Conference, where battles span multiple rounds and stages, there's almost no room for such luck.
Venerable Chongxu said: "If we can just survive this round, the next one will be better. Our Chongxu Sect still has a secret weapon."
The Sect Master's eyes lit up. He nodded with a glimmer of hope.
Linghu Xiao—a rare prodigy in both talent and swordsmanship.
If he led the next team, Chongxu Sect could absolutely shine in the next Sword Conference.
He might even turn the tide completely.
But deep in Chongxu Ancestor's heart, storm clouds still lingered.
He feared the Four Major Sects would go too far—and not leave them any breathing room at all…
What was happening in the Tai'a and Chongxu Sects… was playing out across many sects in the Ganxue Prefecture Realm.
Some were rejoicing.
Some were despairing.
Some saw their schemes succeed.
Others could only sigh at the sky.
As the Dao Conference drew closer, changes and turbulence became more frequent. The undercurrents surged stronger.
But all of this— Mo Hua, a "perfectly ordinary" disciple of the Great Void Sect, knew little and cared even less.
He remembered his duty—and focused on cultivation.
His cultivation base rose steadily.
His swordsmanship honed itself stroke by stroke.
His array formation skills, under Venerable Elder Xun's guidance and his tireless effort,
became more refined and solid than most cultivators could ever imagine…
...
Time passed like a white horse flashing past a crack.
Before long, over six months had flown by.
And now, under the eyes of all cultivators— the long-awaited Ganxue Prefecture Realm Dao Conference… Had begun.
(End of this Chapter)