The Quest for Immortality

The desire for power is rooted in the human heart and cannot be eradicated.

Class nature may well be human nature itself.

Everyone, as long as they have any opportunity, will strive upward, to seize more Tao cultivation resources, gain greater strength, wield larger power, thereby enslaving others, oppressing others, standing above others, and thus obtaining the satisfaction and pleasure of class.

Here in the Barbaric Wilderness, this is displayed with particular clarity.

Mo Hua’s eyes were deep as he sank into contemplation.

”Gentleman,” Dan Zhu saw that Mo Hua’s expression was unusual and asked, ”do we need to send troops to conquer this small patch of Mountain Realm?”

Mo Hua was silent for a moment, then shook his head:

”No need. This place was once the Divine Lord’s preaching ground; it is merely that some people have betrayed the Divine Lord’s ’instructions’.”

Chi Feng and the others looked at one another.

Mo Hua ordered, ”Wait here for a while. I’ll go take a look at the situation.”

Dan Zhu thought for a bit, then nodded, ”Very well, Gentleman.”

Dan Zhu and his group of five to six hundred men then encamped in a nearby small mountain valley.

Mo Hua, on the other hand, entered the Wusha Mountain Realm alone.

After entering the Mountain Realm, Mo Hua activated the Concealment Technique; his figure turned invisible as he walked upon the earth of the Barbaric Wilderness.

Though there was no famine, people’s livelihoods were withered; everything he saw before his eyes largely ran counter to his intentions.

His admonitions to Wusha, Wusha had not taken to heart.

His moral teaching directed at human nature had likewise ended in failure.

The human heart is ever in peril; the Taoist Heart is ever faint.

Under exhortation, the human heart may be ”kind” for a time, yet as soon as there is the slightest laxity, it will return to luxury, pleasure, and oppression and exploitation, and in the end step by step walk toward destruction.

”All evil springs from the human heart.”

”And the Evil Thoughts within the human heart will hatch...”

Evil Gods.

In an instant, Mo Hua vaguely understood something.

After pondering for a moment, he did not go to find Wusha, but instead passed through the Wusha Mountain Realm to reach the Wutu Mountain Realm, and first sought out the Wutu Tribe.

Mo Hua did not care whether Wusha lived or died.

What he cared about were those children he had taught.

He did not know whether those children had been affected, nor what they now looked like.

Mo Hua, concealed, entered the Wutu Tribe’s main gate; the surrounding Formation had been set by himself in the first place and naturally could not bar him.

Once inside the tribe, all was as usual; the atmosphere was still relatively harmonious, everyone had clothes to wear and food to fill their bellies, and some houses and tents had been built a bit more solidly.

This indicated that his orders—at least Elder Zamu of the Wutu Tribe—was still conscientiously abiding by.

Mo Hua felt slightly comforted in his heart.

His Divine Sense swept briefly and found a group of people gathered in the main hall.

Mo Hua’s gaze shifted slightly as he, still concealed, entered the Wutu Tribe’s main hall; he saw that the hall was spacious and sparsely furnished, and at this moment quite a few people had gathered inside, arguing incessantly about something. From the looks of it, they seemed to have been arguing for a long time, the atmosphere tense.

At the highest point there was a seat, which was empty.

That was the position where Mo Hua had often sat.

Previously, when he served as Chief in the Wutu Tribe, he sat in that seat, and in the capacity of Shaman, plotted and commanded, unified Wutu, Wusha, and several surrounding Second Grade small Mountain Realms, constantly improving people’s livelihoods and promoting the Divine Lord’s renown.

With this Shaman absent, none dared touch his seat.

Mo Hua passed above the crowd, and unnoticed by god or ghost returned to his own seat. He sat down calmly, resting his arm, looking down from on high at the people below as they argued without cease.

The disputing crowd had not perceived the descent of their ”Shaman Lord” and continued to debate back and forth, each with his own words.

Only Little Zatu, standing behind Elder Zamu, seemed to sense something and glanced toward the seat.

But the seat was empty; his Gentleman had not appeared.

Little Zatu’s expression showed some disappointment, then he seemed to recall the Gentleman’s teachings to him; his mood gradually calmed, and a certain firmness appeared in his gaze.

At this moment, the previously merely tense atmosphere in the hall suddenly grew drawn like swords and bent like bows.

Elder Zamu of the Wutu Tribe was speaking to a Barbarian General of the Black Horn Tribe:

”Absolutely not!”

”This batch of Barbarian Armor was forged by Elder Jiao Hu under the Shaman’s orders. Without the Shaman’s consent, it cannot be handed over to anyone.”

The Black Horn Tribe’s Barbarian General’s features were stern. ”I have come under Jiao Li’s orders to demand these Barbarian Armor...”

”Now that Jiao Li and Wusha are at odds, without sufficient Barbarian Armor, we certainly cannot, under Wusha’s aggressive pressure, guarantee the safety of the Wutu Tribe, or even of the entire Wutu Mountain Realm.”

There was a faint threat hidden within his words.

Upon hearing this, Elder Zamu said angrily:

”Does Wusha still dare to attack my Wutu Tribe? My Wutu Tribe is the tribe upon which the Shaman first descended; the Shaman even named this Mountain Realm ’Wutu’. He, Wusha, dares attack the Wutu Tribe? Does he wish to betray the Shaman?”

The Black Horn Tribe’s Barbarian General said, ”Precisely because the Shaman has deep ties with your Wutu Tribe, Wusha, for the Shaman’s sake, has exercised such forbearance. Otherwise, he would have taken the Wutu Mountain Realm long ago.”

”Only...” the Black Horn Barbarian General’s eyes grew cold, ”now the Shaman has already disappeared for more than a year, with no word at all; no one knows where he has gone, nor whether he can ever return. Wusha has long been restless.”

”If it were not for Jiao Li, who remembers the Shaman’s grace and obeys the Shaman’s command, continually sending troops to protect your Wutu Tribe, Wusha would already have struck you with a heavy hand.”

”To protect your Wutu Tribe, Jiao Li has spent every effort; if not merit, then at least hard work. Now he merely wants a few suits of Barbarian Armor, and you still hedge and refuse?”

Elder Zamu said in a deep voice, ”When all is said and done, is Jiao Li not simply eyeing this batch of Barbarian Armor? In what way is he any different from Wusha?”