Chapter 1152: Mutiny
In the dark of night, shadows flitted silently.
Mo Hua raced swiftly toward Great Desert City.
Along the roadside were scattered encampments and stationed cultivators.
These cultivators were not Dao Soldiers, but members of the Great Wilderness Sect who had accompanied the Dao Soldiers south to suppress the rebellion.
Now, they too had set up camp alongside the main forces.
Faintly, powerful cultivator auras emanated from the Great Wilderness Sect's encampments—many of them Golden Core realm, and perhaps even a few Nascent Soul realm cultivators.
Mo Hua thought to himself, "Just as I guessed. With the main force deployed, the Great Wilderness Sect would follow. That means Great Desert City must be poorly guarded now…"
"I need to hurry!"
He quickened his pace, clothed in black, traveling by night. Avoiding the Great Wilderness Sect camps and their Golden Core cultivators, he sped two hundred li further toward Great Desert City.
At a fork in the road, the threads of karma shifted.
Mo Hua's heart jolted, and he instinctively came to a halt.
"Something's wrong… Why do I feel… such a bad premonition?"
His brow furrowed. After a moment's thought, he found a quiet place and used the demon blood he'd taken from the big tiger some days ago. With demon bones, he cast a divination once more.
To his shock—there was no longer any trace of the big tiger's aura within Great Desert City.
"Gone?"
"Dead…?"
His heart trembled, but then his expression turned grave. "No, the karmic bond is still intact. It hasn't been severed."
"If the big tiger's aura is no longer in Great Desert City, that must mean… it's no longer there at all?"
"Then where would it be?"
Mo Hua's gaze darkened slightly. After some thought, he couldn't help but glance back toward the Great Wilderness Sect's camp.
He used demon-bone divination again to verify his suspicion.
Then, erasing all traces of his casting, he turned around and retraced his steps.
This time, he didn't avoid the camp. Instead, he observed the formation patterns guarding it, found a flaw, and stealthily slipped inside.
Within the encampment, there were Nascent Soul cultivators and many Golden Cores.
Mo Hua dared not make the slightest move.
Fortunately, the camp was quite large. The Nascent Soul cultivators' divine senses couldn't cover the whole area, the Golden Core cultivators were scattered, and all the formations were recently set up—plenty of vulnerabilities.
With careful steps, Mo Hua advanced safely.
In the dark, a faint blood-red karmic thread tinged with feral demonic energy twisted forward in Mo Hua's karmic vision.
Following that thread, he arrived at a tightly sealed section of the encampment.
The area was forged from steel, surrounded by iron chains and densely packed with formations, sealed so tightly it blocked sound and even scent.
Mo Hua's heart stirred. His divine sense swept across the area and began deducing.
Within moments, he had identified a flaw in the tightly woven formations.
He pointed a finger, ink-like traces spread across the ground, weaving along the flaw into a formation pattern—unlocking the sealed array.
The moment the formation unraveled, a narrow opening silently appeared within the chained iron barricade.
Mo Hua leaned in and peered through the crack.
Everything inside the iron-locked camp came into view.
Rather than a military camp, it looked more like a miniature beast taming arena.
All around were iron cages filled with various demon beasts.
In the center, eight thick chains bound a ferocious tiger demon with a black-and-white coat and the character "王" (King) upon its forehead.
It was the big tiger—Mo Hua's tiger.
Mo Hua felt a wave of realization—mixed with a touch of surprise.
"This Tuoba fellow… even brought the tiger with him on a military campaign? Just how fond is he of this beast?"
At that moment, eight robust cultivators at the peak of Foundation Establishment were wrestling with the chains, trying to subdue the tiger.
Meanwhile, several Golden Core cultivators lashed it with whips.
This seemed to be some sort of beast taming method, using constant exhaustion and pain to weaken the tiger's strength, break its will, and ultimately subdue it into obedience.
The tiger was enraged, struggling and roaring at the surrounding cultivators.
The Great Wilderness Sect cultivators nearby wore indifferent expressions, continuing their torture to grind down its ferocity.
Mo Hua's gaze turned icy. Just as he was about to act, he abruptly held himself back.
This was the Great Wilderness Sect's camp.
With Nascent Soul cultivators present and many Golden Cores keeping watch, if he acted now, he wouldn't make it out alive.
The tiger would be in even greater danger.
And the fact that he had already infiltrated their camp was a serious breach of military regulations. If things went south, not even the Yang family could protect him.
He was cornered.
It needs more thought. This can't be rushed.
Mo Hua's expression darkened. For now, there was no better way.
And time was ticking—dawn was nearing.
He had to return to camp soon, or he'd have no way to explain things to Brother Yang.
With a heavy heart, Mo Hua let out a silent sigh. He took one last, long look at the big tiger before turning away.
Inside the camp, the big tiger seemed to sense something. Its temper flared—it roared, surging with demonic power. The eight Foundation Establishment cultivators were flung back like dolls.
But this only provoked an even harsher suppression from the Golden Core cultivators.
Their attacks rained down mercilessly.
Yet even their Golden Core-level suppression could not extinguish the tiger's rage.
It howled and thrashed, demonic aura raging and shaking the entire arena.
The other demon beasts locked in cages trembled in fear beneath the pressure of the tiger's fury.
Three or four Great Wilderness Sect Golden Core cultivators exchanged glances, speaking with uneasy tones:
"This cursed beast… it's only a Second-Grade demon, yet it has such terrifying power?"
"This truly is Young Lord Tuoba's great fortune…"
"No need to talk—subdue it quickly. If the demonic aura leaks, we'll be in trouble…"
Whips and spells intensified, raining down on the tiger.
It was covered in wounds, yet it remained defiant.
But after struggling for a long while, it realized no one was coming—that familiar presence had vanished.
The tiger's eyes dimmed. It lowered its head to the ground, no longer resisting, no longer reacting—no matter how the cultivators beat or cursed at it.
The Golden Core cultivators exchanged surprised glances.
"What's with this beast? Why's it suddenly acting so strange?"
"No idea. But it being quiet for once is a good thing."
"Maybe it's lost hope after realizing no rescue was coming…"
"Give it time—its ferocity should wear off eventually. At least we'll have something to report to the young lord…"
...
Outside the Dao Soldier camp.
Mo Hua found a secluded spot, changed back into Dao Soldier uniform, and finally returned openly to the camp.
He went to find Yang Jiyong.
Yang Jiyong saw him return—though it was within expectations, he still let out a visible sigh of relief.
"You found it?"
"Mm," Mo Hua nodded.
He just… hadn't been able to take it back.
"Good," Yang Jiyong, unaware of the details, said, "It's not yet dawn—get some rest while you can. We'll be marching again tomorrow."
"Alright."
Yang Jiyong left.
Mo Hua returned to his tent and lay on the bed, his heart still preoccupied with the matter of the big tiger—pondering how he could rescue it.
But no matter how he thought about it, it was a dead end.
If he forced a rescue and offended the Great Wilderness Sect, he couldn't possibly handle the consequences.
Even if he did manage to free the big tiger, there was no way they could escape.
The big tiger was now inside the Great Wilderness Sect's camp, surrounded on all sides by Dao Soldiers.
The moment it appeared and its demonic aura leaked out, the Great Wilderness Sect wouldn't let it live. Even the Dao Soldier Bureau would likely execute it on the spot.
Either way, the big tiger would still die.
Mo Hua let out a helpless sigh.
Plans can't keep up with change…
He had originally thought he could go back to Great Desert City and retrieve the tiger. Who would've thought that Young Lord Tuoba would take the tiger with him on campaign?
The good news was, the big tiger was now marching south with the Dao Soldiers into the Great Wilderness.
The bad news? Rescuing it now was even harder than before.
Mo Hua lay on the bed, his gaze constantly shifting.
...
In the following days, the Dao Court's army continued their advance into the Great Wilderness—and their pace only quickened.
Mo Hua's mind was entirely consumed with the tiger's rescue.
But he thought and thought, and still came up with nothing.
Seven full days passed like that, and the vast Dao Court army finally neared one of the narrow mountain passes leading into the Great Wilderness—Stormridge.
Stormridge, where winds howled for three thousand li and the desert sands surged like waves.
Desolate ghostly peaks and abyssal hills flanked both sides, stretching like malicious spirits, eerie and grim.
It was both a gateway and a danger zone into the Great Wilderness.
The Dao Soldiers arrived at Stormridge by evening. With darkness deepening, they made camp outside.
The camp bustled with noise. By the time everything was settled, it was already deep into the night.
Mo Hua lay on his bed, listening to the howling winds that sounded like ghostly wails, feeling the brutal contrast between day and night in the desert. For a moment, the thought that he was now "on a military campaign" brought a strange, fresh sense of heroic passion.
Of course, once that wore off, his mind returned to the tiger.
But there was nothing he could do.
He was just Foundation Establishment. Trying to "steal a tiger" under the noses of Golden Cores and Nascent Souls? Way too difficult.
"Big Tiger…"
As Mo Hua was lost in thought, a sudden wave of dread surged through his heart.
More intense than anything he had ever felt before.
Which meant…
"Is the tiger… in danger?"
Uneasy, Mo Hua secretly got up and performed a divination.
Nothing.
He flipped copper coins—still nothing.
Mo Hua frowned. Something wasn't right.
"Why can't I divine anything?"
"Has the karmic thread been severed? Or has something really happened to the big tiger?"
After some hesitation, he couldn't rest easy. He decided to go check it out himself—to confirm whether the tiger was still safe.
If it really was in danger, then he'd throw caution to the wind and take it one step at a time.
Mo Hua put on a black robe, cloaked his presence, and slipped away from the Dao Soldier camp under cover of night.
The darkness was thick. The desert wind bitter and cutting like blades.
Mo Hua braved the harsh winds, melting into the shadows, crossing mountain ridges that resembled ghosts, and alone, reached the Great Wilderness Sect's camp.
The camp's formations—especially the Grade Two arrays—were tightly guarded.
But in Mo Hua's eyes, as someone with profound mastery of Qianxue-style array arts, it was riddled with holes.
With practiced ease, he slipped past the detection barriers and infiltrated the camp once again.
Soon, he found that iron-bound pavilion from before.
With a tap of his finger, he unraveled a corner of the formation, and—heart filled with unease—peeked inside.
The big tiger was lying in the center of the arena, covered in wounds, clearly injured, but its massive head shifted slightly, and its breathing was steady.
"Not dead…"
Mo Hua exhaled a long sigh of relief.
It was wounded, yes, but alive. And the atmosphere inside the arena was calm for now—no immediate danger.
Outside the enclosure, a few Golden Core cultivators were drinking to keep warm. They weren't torturing the tiger.
Fragments of their voices carried over. They were chatting.
Mo Hua thought for a moment and crept a little closer, holding his breath, extending his divine sense to listen in.
The Golden Cores weren't discussing anything sensitive, so they didn't lower their voices. They didn't seem to care if others overheard.
"Hot one moment, cold the next…"
"If I don't drink, I'll freeze out here…"
"This damn Great Wilderness—no place for people to live."
"Good thing that damn beast finally quieted down. If it kept rampaging, we'd all be suffering."
"Stop calling it a damn beast. If it really gets tamed, that's a Royal Beast—not something we can afford to disrespect."
"Yeah, if Young Lord hears you calling it that, he won't let it slide."
"Exactly."
"But it's not tamed yet, right?"
"Won't be long. It's gotten a lot more docile these past few days—lost a lot of its wild edge."
"Shame though. If we'd gotten it under control earlier, we might've gotten a bigger reward."
"Whatever. Drink up."
"Cheers."
After that, they just chatted about cultivation routines, personnel shifts within the sect, and complaints about the terrible conditions of the Great Wilderness.
Mo Hua didn't listen any longer. He glanced at the big tiger again to confirm it was truly fine, then turned and headed back to the Dao Soldier camp.
But on the way, his mind was full of confusion:
The tiger is fine… then what was that wave of dread earlier?
And suddenly, Mo Hua realized something he'd been overlooking this whole time:
Why is Young Lord Tuoba so obsessed with taming the big tiger?
Sure, the big tiger was majestic—black and white, fluffy, sacred yet domineering—anyone would be captivated.
But Tuoba seemed too fixated.
Mo Hua frowned, puzzled. Even after returning to camp and lying back on his bed, with the desert winds howling outside, his heart was still unsettled. He couldn't sleep.
After a while, Yang Jiyong came by on inspection.
His focus was entirely on Mo Hua.
He didn't care about the other Dao Soldiers—he was only worried that Mo Hua might run off or run into trouble.
A formation master like Mo Hua was rarer than phoenix feathers.
If anything really happened to him, Yang Jiyong would regret it to his bones.
Yang Jiyong entered the tent and immediately looked at Mo Hua.
One glance wasn't enough. He walked closer to make sure—to see if Mo Hua was asleep, and more importantly… still breathing.
But just as he got close, he saw Mo Hua's large, blinking eyes shimmering in the darkness, staring back at him.
Their eyes met.
Yang Jiyong felt a bit awkward and forced a smile. "The wind's strong here at Stormridge. Lots of sand and grit. Nights are cold—are you getting used to it?"
"It's alright," Mo Hua nodded.
"As long as you're adjusting." Yang Jiyong smiled. "Rest early."
He didn't want to disturb Mo Hua further and turned to leave.
But just as he turned, Mo Hua's expression shifted—and he suddenly grabbed Yang Jiyong's arm.
Yang Jiyong was caught off guard. "W-What's wrong?"
Mo Hua stared intently at Yang Jiyong's forehead.
It was too dark earlier, and he hadn't noticed—but when the lantern light fell across Yang Jiyong's face as he turned, there wasn't a trace of light. His complexion was ashen, and the center of his brow was shadowed, darkened… as if shrouded by the omen of death.
Yang Jiyong… was going to die?
Mo Hua's heart clenched sharply.
"Brother Yang, what have you been doing lately?" he asked urgently.
Yang Jiyong looked puzzled. "Night patrol…"
"What about during the day?"
"Same as always—marching, setting up camp…"
"Nothing else?" Mo Hua pressed. "Anything unusual? Anyone strange? Any odd occurrences? You must tell me everything—no holding back!"
Yang Jiyong was still confused, but seeing Mo Hua's serious expression, he carefully thought it over—then shook his head.
"Same as always."
Mo Hua frowned deeper.
When he first saw the death omen on Yang Jiyong's brow, he immediately assumed he had encountered something unclean within Stormridge.
But now, that didn't seem to be the case.
He hadn't done anything special—which meant the death omen wasn't targeted.
If it wasn't targeted… it was indiscriminate.
Which meant… this was a battlefield omen.
Were the barbarian tribes about to ambush the camp?
But Mo Hua thought again—it's not that simple.
This was the Dao Court's army. How could barbarians possibly ambush them?
Moreover, the Yang Family's unit was a rear guard—even in battle, they'd be the last to charge.
And Yang Jiyong was a Second-Grade Sub-Commander, a seasoned veteran. He wouldn't just die so easily.
Unless… the threat wasn't from the front.
It was from behind.
From behind…
Mo Hua's pupils shrank. "The Great Wilderness Sect?!"
But that… also didn't make sense.
It wasn't that the Great Wilderness Sect couldn't rebel—but why would they?
Sure, they ruled the region, had immense strength, and were nearly on par with a Fifth-Rank sect.
But even so—they were just one sect. How could they dare go against the Dao Court?
Had they lost their minds?
Yet the karmic omen… said otherwise.
Like lightning in his mind, Mo Hua suddenly thought of the big tiger.
Why was Young Lord Tuoba so desperate to tame it?
To use it as a mount?
Mo Hua remembered that back in Xiao Yi City, Elder Ji had once told him:
"'Tigers' come from the White Tiger of the Four Divine Beasts—they're symbols of the royal lineage of the Great Wilderness."
"It's said that every adult member of the Great Wilderness royal family must tame a fierce tiger to use as a mount to prove their bloodline."
The royal family of the Great Wilderness… contending for power… taming mighty tigers as mounts…
Mo Hua shook his head.
But no—Young Lord Tuoba was the son of the Great Wilderness Sect's leader.
And the sect leader was not of the Great Wilderness royal lineage…
But then—What about Young Lord Tuoba's mother?
Mo Hua thought back carefully. During the military banquet, he had seen the Sect Master of the Great Wilderness in person. His appearance clearly marked him as a cultivator of the Central Provinces.
But Tuoba himself was taller, more striking in appearance, and carried a distinct wildness in his aura.
Which was understandable—growing up in the Great Wilderness, picking up a bit of its fierceness was only natural.
At the time, Mo Hua hadn't thought much of it.
But if… Tuoba's mother was from the Great Wilderness clans? If she was of royal blood?
Then that meant—Tuoba had the bloodline of the Great Wilderness royal family.
And that's why he was so obsessed with taming the big tiger.
Because only by subduing this king of beasts could he prove his bloodline as royalty.
If that were true… then the so-called "Dao Court-appointed" Great Wilderness Sect had already become the Great Wilderness Royal Sect through bloodline union.
A chill surged through Mo Hua's heart.
He couldn't help but suck in a cold breath.
All of these thoughts raced through his mind in the blink of an eye.
Yang Jiyong still looked completely lost, about to ask what was going on.
But Mo Hua grabbed his arm tightly and asked in a low, serious voice:
"Brother Yang, do you trust me?"
Yang Jiyong blinked, then nodded slowly.
Mo Hua's face was grave. He leaned closer and whispered:
"The Great Wilderness Sect… might be rebelling too."
(End of this Chapter)