Chapter 1154: Rescuing the Tiger
Within Stormridge, the mountains loomed like phantoms. The night wind howled, biting and sharp, carrying the stench of blood.
Dao Court's Dao Soldiers and the cultivators of the Great Wilderness Sect were locked in a deadly struggle. Amid the chaos of trampling feet, clashing weapons, and explosive collisions of arcane arts and brute force, spiritual power and blood qi tangled in a furious storm.
High above, Nascent Soul cultivators fought midair, their spiritual might crashing down like landslides.
People were dying by the second.
The sands of the desert drank blood, as murderous aura surged toward the sky.
In the midst of the mayhem, Mo Hua turned into a stream of waterlight, weaving through the carnage, fleeing toward the distance.
Behind him, three Golden Core cultivators of the Great Wilderness Sect were in hot pursuit.
Although Golden Core cultivators had faster movement techniques, the battlefield was packed with people and chaos—nowhere was safe or clear. There was no space to unleash their full speed.
On the other hand, Mo Hua's Flowing Water Steps allowed him to slip and twist through the battlefield like a fish through rapids—deft, fluid, and increasingly at ease.
After chasing for a while, the three Golden Core cultivators began to realize something was wrong.
"Dammit, we still can't catch him? What the hell is that kid's movement technique?"
"Is he luring us away on purpose, trying to save the Yang family's Dao Soldiers?"
"If we'd known, we should've just slaughtered the Yang clan's people first, then chased this brat—would've saved us the trouble."
"Yeah, easy to say now. Who the hell would've thought the three of us, chasing him ourselves, still wouldn't be able to catch the little bastard?"
"This battlefield's too damn chaotic—too many obstacles. We're totally bottlenecked in movement."
"So what now? Turn back and kill off those Yang family soldiers first?"
As they discussed, their speed naturally slowed.
Mo Hua noticed this and also slowed slightly, turning back with a smirk to taunt them:
"Three useless cowards. Spineless dogs. You sure your Golden Cores aren't refined from goat turds?"
"Three Golden Cores, and you can't catch one lowly Foundation Establishment?"
"You're not using your cores anyway—why not just crush them, eggs and all, and go home to become eunuchs?"
These insults were all straight from the "profanity manual" Elder Yu had given him.
At last, that book was proving useful.
And Elder Yu's insults were, indeed, unparalleled.
No sooner had Mo Hua finished cursing than the three Golden Core cultivators of the Great Wilderness Sect felt a surge of fury blast up through their crowns—their foreheads bulging with veins.
They were Golden Core Elders!
And not just any elders.
In the Great Wilderness Tribe, they were royal guards—revered protectors of the royal bloodline.
Within the sect, they were esteemed guest elders, honored wherever they went.
When had anyone ever dared insult them like this?
And with such crass yet creative vulgarity? It was as if someone had carefully concocted a bucket of dung and splashed it right across their faces.
Worse still, the one insulting them… was a damn Foundation Establishment runt!
The leader, a Golden Core wielding a bone-cleaver-style ghost-head saber, went purple with rage.
"This kid must die!"
"I'll flay him alive, peel off his skin, and slice his flesh inch by inch!"
"Kill!"
Furious, the three Golden Cores unleashed their full power, no longer holding back. Their speed surged as they charged at Mo Hua with lethal intent.
Mo Hua's heart tightened. He didn't dare to be careless now. His divine sense was fully focused, pushing Flowing Water Steps to its peak. Amidst flying swords, wild spells, and mountains of corpses, he flickered left and right, dodging the three Golden Core cultivators with supreme agility.
So began the deadly chase.
Half an hour passed—maybe more.
Mo Hua figured he was far enough from Commander Yang and the others. Time to retreat.
On a battlefield this chaotic and deadly, he couldn't afford the risk of using his Divine Sense Sword Manifestation to kill a Golden Core.
Besides, those Golden Core techniques weren't a joke.
With his current body, if even a single hit from a Golden Core's artifact landed, it would be game over.
Dragging this out any further would only invite danger—bad idea.
Thankfully, these Great Wilderness Golden Cores didn't seem to have Elder Xu's weird tricks from Corpse Valley—like raising an Earth Burial Corpse to bypass appearances and karma to track him down.
So, after a few more exchanges, Mo Hua's figure suddenly blurred, dissolving into a misty fog—vanishing right before their eyes.
The three Golden Cores halted in stunned silence, scanning the area with divine sense.
But they found no trace of him.
With morale and bloodlust blending into utter chaos on the battlefield, even divine sense was muddled.
Once Mo Hua vanished, it was like a stone tossed into the ocean—no ripples, no trace.
And they, unlike Elder Xu, had no creepy corpse-tracking spells.
"He's gone? Escaped?"
"And we got verbally wrecked for nothing?"
The three Golden Core cultivators could only seethe, fuming with impotent rage.
They couldn't even see Mo Hua's shadow. All they could do was blast nearby terrain with their artifacts, raging uselessly like madmen.
All the while cursing in their hearts, swearing that the next time they saw Mo Hua, they'd shred him into ten thousand pieces.
…
Ten miles away, having shaken his pursuers, Mo Hua emerged silently.
This area was full of Dao Soldier troops—relatively safer.
He let out a breath and was just about to turn back and regroup with Yang Jishan and the others.
Right now, his identity was nothing but a low-ranking Dao Soldier with no power or influence. If he wanted to fish in troubled waters, earn military merit, and carve a path forward—perhaps even form his own Golden Core—he'd need to stick with familiar faces and lean on the Yang family's Dao Soldier Division.
Both success and cultivation could progress hand in hand.
But as he scanned the chaos around him—sand, blood, and screaming—he couldn't help but worry about Big Tiger.
In a battlefield like this, if the tiger got caught up in the slaughter, it would likely die without a doubt.
"Maybe… I should rescue Big Tiger first, then rejoin Commander Yang?"
Mo Hua thought silently.
The Great Wilderness uprising was dangerous, but it also meant one thing—chaos.
Both sides, Golden Core and Nascent Soul alike, were too busy fighting.
This might be his only chance to rescue Big Tiger.
Mo Hua nodded to himself, his decision firm.
He spread his divine sense to locate the direction, then faded into the shadows once more, vanishing from the Dao Soldier camp.
Instead of retreating, he reversed course—heading straight for the Great Wilderness camp.
This path was far more dangerous.
Swords and spells didn't discriminate.
Within the chaos flew Golden Core and Nascent Soul spiritual force.
Ordinary cultivators would be instantly wounded or killed upon contact. It was the cruel and unforgiving nature of war among cultivators.
Even Mo Hua had to walk on eggshells.
Fortunately, his divine sense was sharp, and he had some grasp of karmic principles.
He used his senses to dodge visible dangers.
And for those unseen—like sudden "ghost-head" ambushes—he could faintly sense the killing intent from karmic fluctuations, miraculously evading death again and again.
Anyone else walking this path would've died a dozen times before reaching the end.
Thus, Mo Hua crossed the main battlefield, passed through fragmented skirmishes, and slipped past the Great Wilderness main force—making his way into their military camp from the rear.
The encampment was a temporary staging ground for their march.
Now that war had erupted, most of the Great Wilderness camps were nearly empty.
Cultivator auras were sparse and scattered.
Big Tiger's cage was among them.
The camp was fortified with iron and steel, bound with chains. A few peak Foundation Establishment brutes of the Great Wilderness Sect stood guard.
Time was tight—Mo Hua didn't hold back.
He waited until the guards separated during their patrols, then struck.
One by one, he sealed their noses and mouths with Drowning Technique, bound their bodies with Water Prison, then used Fireball Technique to break their meridian nodes and burn their throats.
Though it seemed elaborate, Mo Hua executed the combo with swift, clean precision—less than ten seconds in total.
The gatekeepers were all down.
Mo Hua approached the tent. With a flick of his finger and a flash of ink, he undid a corner of the tent like he'd done it a hundred times.
Inside the tent, Big Tiger still lay there weakly, sprawled on the ground.
Mo Hua, still cloaked in stealth, quietly slipped inside.
Big Tiger seemed to sense something. Its furry ears twitched, and its massive head suddenly lifted. Its copper bell-like eyes stared straight ahead, flashing with confusion and surprise.
Mo Hua slowly walked toward it.
Big Tiger's bright, piercing eyes locked onto Mo Hua's direction. Though it couldn't see anything in the darkness, it instinctively sensed a faint yet familiar aura growing closer. A low, rumbling "awoo" escaped its throat.
Mo Hua drew nearer step by step—when suddenly—
The ground trembled.
Blinding light from an array flared to life.
Dust fell from above, clinging to Mo Hua's body.
The blue runes on the ground turned into currents of spiritual power, spiraling up around him, forcibly breaking his concealment.
At the same time, golden light transformed into cage-like bars, trapping both Mo Hua and Big Tiger within them.
Revealing Dust. Concealment-Breaking Formation. Great Wilderness Golden Prison Array.
A trap.
A cold laugh rang out.
Figures flashed all around—Great Wilderness Sect cultivators, armored and armed, formed up in tight formation, encircling Mo Hua completely.
At the center of the crowd, a tall, handsome young nobleman strolled in.
It was Young Lord Tuoba.
Behind him followed two Golden Core cultivators of the Great Wilderness Sect.
Tuoba looked at Mo Hua—now coated in dust, exposed by the concealment-breaking array, and sealed within the golden cage—with a sneer.
"So it was you. Just as I thought."
Mo Hua's expression was calm. "What do you mean, me?"
Tuoba scoffed. "Still pretending? Don't think I can't see through it. That servant at the Beast Fighting Arena—that was you in disguise."
He narrowed his eyes. "You're one of Yang Jishan's people, planted in the arena under Yang family orders, weren't you?"
Mo Hua remained silent.
If it had been any other family, he would've dumped the blame without a second thought.
But the Yangs… he owed them some favors. He wasn't shameless enough to let them take the fall.
Seeing Mo Hua stay quiet, Tuoba's face darkened, and he sneered.
"I thought you were someone of note. Turns out you're just a pawn—a disposable grunt. No wonder you'd stoop so low as to pose as a servant."
Mo Hua shook his head. "Reputation is just for show. Whether someone is lowly or not… has nothing to do with status."
"In fact, the ones with the biggest reputations are often the most shameless."
Tuoba's face twisted in anger. "What a sharp tongue. You really do talk big for someone with death at his doorstep."
Just then, the massive tiger beside Mo Hua, now bound by the golden cage array, gave a low growl as it struggled in place—unable to break free. It looked at Mo Hua and let out a soft, familiar whimper—tinged with intimacy.
Tuoba's heart soured. His face turned unspeakably ugly as he growled at Mo Hua:
"What's your relationship with my royal beast?!"
Mo Hua replied lightly, "This tiger… is mine."
Tuoba's face twisted, his rage flaring. After a moment of stewing, he forced a cold sneer.
"You're in no position to be cocky."
He pointed at Big Tiger. "This is a tiger demon—a king among beasts, a rare variant among kings. Its bloodline is extraordinary. Only one with royal Great Wilderness blood can suppress its ferocity and earn its submission."
"But you—your blood is thin. No bloodline power at all. A nobody from a lowly birth. The blood in your veins is cheap. How dare you compare yourself to our royal clan?"
Mo Hua gave him a flat look. "A person's worth isn't determined by their bloodline."
"And besides… aren't you a mutt yourself? Technically speaking, pretty damn cheap too."
The air froze.
The Great Wilderness cultivators all changed expression.
Tuoba's face went pale. His lips trembled.
The two Golden Core elders behind him were visibly shaken. One immediately stepped forward:
"Young Lord, this lowly scum is unworthy to speak to you. Allow us to take him down—gouge his eyes and tear out his tongue for your judgment."
They feared Mo Hua would speak again—say something even more offensive—and sour the young lord's mood.
Without waiting for Tuoba to respond, the two Golden Core elders, along with several Foundation Establishment cultivators, moved in to seize Mo Hua.
They hadn't paid him much attention.
After all, he was just a Foundation Establishment—knew a few stealth techniques, skulked around a bit. Now that he was trapped in an array and surrounded, how hard could it be to take him down?
None of them noticed the faint curve of a smirk tugging at Mo Hua's lips.
The Great Wilderness crowd moved together. The two Golden Core elders led the charge.
The moment they stepped into the Golden Prison Array—
—the array's light changed.
The formation's foundation began reversing.
Its runes twisted… then collapsed.
The golden glow of the prison was replaced by a pitch-black, annihilating radiance.
An aura of utter dread spread out—even sound was momentarily erased.
The two Golden Core elders' eyes shrank as they instinctively tried to retreat—too late.
That black power of unraveling touched their legs.
One elder's right foot disintegrated instantly, devoured by the black reversal force.
The other had his knee sheared apart—his thigh and shin falling in two separate directions.
The surrounding Foundation Establishment cultivators were no luckier. Guided precisely by Mo Hua's divine sense and calculation, the formation's unraveling power sliced them clean—limbs lost, blood spilled.
By the time the collapse was complete, and the extinction force faded, the sounds of the world returned.
Agonized screams erupted through the entire camp.
All of this happened in an instant.
The Concealment-Breaking Formation, the Golden Prison Array—all obliterated.
The Golden Core elders—crippled.
Tuoba's pupils contracted. He was both furious and terrified.
He couldn't comprehend—why had the trap his Great Wilderness Sect laid out not only failed, but become a weapon for Mo Hua to turn on them?
The two remaining Golden Core elders were ashen, cold sweat soaking their foreheads.
Mo Hua simply gazed at Tuoba, expression calm.
As if he were looking at livestock—something ready for slaughter.
Tuoba's fear faded—only to be replaced by burning rage.
No one had ever dared look at him like that before.
He crushed a jade talisman in his hand, his gaze cold and venomous as it locked onto Mo Hua:
"You must die here today!"
The words had barely left his lips when the talisman shattered, triggering a flurry of Great Wilderness Command Seals. More and more cultivators from the Great Wilderness Sect sensed the disturbance and began to converge on the location.
From afar, waves of powerful auras rushed toward the camp. Three Golden Core cultivators were among them.
As for Foundation Establishment cultivators? Over twenty.
And in the distance, even more divine senses were scanning the area.
Mo Hua could faintly feel it—an even more terrifying, overwhelming aura was locking onto him.
A Nascent Soul.
This is bad.
Mo Hua's heart tensed.
If he didn't act fast and get Big Tiger out, they'd both be finished.
But it was already too late. The number of surrounding Great Wilderness cultivators was rapidly increasing.
Dozens had entered the tent, surrounding and protecting Young Lord Tuoba, while pointing their blades at Mo Hua.
Tuoba stepped back a bit, now standing proudly above Mo Hua, surrounded by his guards. His eyes were full of disdain as a mocking smile curled on his lips.
He was the heir of the Great Wilderness Sect, a direct descendant of its sect master, and carried the bloodline of the royal clan.
In the sect, none dared disobey his orders.
He was destined to be one of the future princes of the Great Wilderness.
How could he let someone as lowborn as Mo Hua insult and humiliate him?
The situation was dire. Mo Hua frowned, his gaze growing heavy.
But just then—
Big Tiger, beside Mo Hua, let out a low growl toward him.
Mo Hua looked at it, puzzled.
Big Tiger looked back, hesitated briefly…
Then, before the eyes of everyone present, this fierce and prideful beast lowered its majestic head—marked with the kingly "王" character—to Mo Hua and knelt at his feet.
Mo Hua froze.
All the surrounding Great Wilderness cultivators turned pale in shock.
Tuoba's eyes turned blood-red. It felt as if a thousand daggers were stabbing into his heart—he couldn't breathe from the pain.
Mo Hua finally understood. He gently patted Big Tiger's head, then leapt lightly onto its back, mounting the ferocious tiger demon that symbolized the royal prestige of the Great Wilderness.
In that moment, gasps of terror and disbelief erupted.
Tuoba felt his very soul shatter. His face twisted, and he shrieked:
"Kill him! Kill him! KILL HIM!!"
"Everyone—kill him for me!!!"
His hysterical roar stunned the crowd momentarily, then the Great Wilderness cultivators sprang into action. Swords, spears, and arrows flew—not just at Mo Hua, but even at Big Tiger.
Mo Hua's eyes turned cold.
Big Tiger, however, raised its head. The gentleness in its eyes vanished, replaced by blood-hued ferocity.
The "王" character on its forehead now radiated an overwhelming dominance.
A shocking surge of demonic energy burst forth from within its body.
Its black-and-white fur rippled under the pressure of the demonic power, shimmering with strange light. The black deepened—menacing and savage. The white brightened—pure and radiant.
Black and white interwoven—mysterious and awe-inspiring.
Then, Big Tiger let out a thunderous roar, unleashing its full power. The black-and-white demonic energy surged, flooding the entire camp.
As the demonic energy spread, Big Tiger's massive form disappeared into it.
Several experienced Golden Core elders of the Great Wilderness Sect paled.
"Black-and-white demonic aura…"
"That's not a tiger demon's natural power. What is this thing?! Where did that beast go?!"
Just then, one of the Golden Core elders suddenly cried out in alarm:
"Young Lord, watch out!"
Tuoba, still in a daze, saw only a flash of white. He didn't even catch a shadow before—
Sharp pain tore through his chest. Blood splattered.
He looked down.
His heart-protecting mirror had been shredded.
A brutal claw mark was carved across his chest.
"Protect the Young Lord!"
"Kill that beast!"
"Where is it?!"
"The demonic aura is too thick—we can't see anything!"
As the chaos unfolded, strange ink-like marks suddenly spread across the ground, forming an array.
Boom!
An explosion burst forth—earthfire erupted, destroying half the tent.
Before anyone could react, a streak of brilliant white light shot through the breach.
Outside was the dark night.
The instant the white light touched the night sky, its glow reversed—white became ink-black, and it melded into the darkness.
Like a raging desert wind, it tore into the distance—vanishing within a few blinks of the eye.
Only a single thing remained in the blackness:
A thunderous roar—full of the wrath and majesty of a king among beasts.
(End of this Chapter)