The Quest for Immortality

If you want to kill him, it’s not going to be easy.

And crossing that ”iron wall” to forcefully kill that young shaman is fraught with difficulties.

What’s more, Lugu hadn’t forgotten that the so-called young shaman was very likely a vicious demon masquerading as a harmless boy.

No one knew what would happen if its disguise was torn away in public.

Hence, caution was still required.

An opportunity needed to be found...

Lugu gradually suppressed his murderous intent and shifted his gaze away from Chi Feng, thus showing that he preferred peace and had no other intentions.

Chi Feng looked grim, said nothing, but instead shielded Mo Hua even more tightly.

Dan Zhu was the hope of the Danque Tribe.

And the master shaman was the hope of Young Master Dan Zhu.

There must not be even the slightest mishap.

...

After everyone weighed and discussed the situation, they set off for the main base of the Danque Tribe at Danque Mountain.

Along the way, it was Mo Hua who led the way.

The spread of the famine disaster was something he understood best.

Even though the land before them was desolate and vegetation withered, everyone could see the ”surface” of the famine disaster.

But deeper down, that famine-tainted aura imbued with Taotie’s power, akin to a certain kind of law’s energy, was concealed and invisible to the eyes of the flesh.

Unable to see the famine aura, it was very easy to ingest it into one’s stomach or even inhale it into one’s brain.

Once Taotie’s power entered the brain, a person would become a monster that eats everything, eating soil, vegetation, and flesh alike.

Mo Hua had already seen several living examples along the way.

These individuals, resembling ”zombies”, wandered in the area where the famine spread, consuming decayed flesh.

When there was no flesh to eat, they gnawed on withered trees or lay on the ground eating dirt, no longer resembling human beings.

These were still moving.

More cultivators of the barbarian tribes died in the famine, their flesh devoured and then dried by the wind, resembling ”mummies”.

Such ”mummies” were everywhere, almost visible in large heaps every few miles walked.

Dead upon the earth, decaying alongside the land, like strands of rotten, withered grass, or like lines that symbolize disaster and death...

”Formation Patterns.”

Mo Hua’s pupils gradually contracted.

...

Moving forward thus, through the desolation ravaged by the famine, they traveled nearly a hundred miles, yet still everywhere was a scene of devastation, corpses strewn all around.

Everyone was chilled in their hearts.

Even the barbarian soldiers of the Shugubu were somewhat terrified.

They enjoyed bloodshed and had ”eaten” people, but were not accustomed to this extinction-like dead silence and the bizarre mummies everywhere.

Just when Mo Hua almost believed the Barbaric Wilderness was nearly a ”dead land,” he finally saw some living people.

In a very remote and even enclosed valley, a small tribe had survived.

And they were the only surviving members of the barbarian tribe for a hundred miles around.

The chief of this small tribe, only at the Foundation Building Middle Stage, saw the powerful Lugu, the mighty Chi Feng, the heroic Dan Zhu, the divinely beautiful Mo Hua, and the grand six-thousand strong barbarian soldiers, feeling as if he had seen heavenly ”King’s Soldiers,” hurriedly kowtowed, saying:

”This old man pays respects to all the great lords, may all you great lords be well.”

Lugu asked him, ”What is this place, and what tribe are you from?”

This chief said truthfully, ”This is a small mountain branching off Vermilion Bird Mountain, named Little Witch Mountain. Our tribe is called the Wutian Tribe, and we have lived by farming for generations, very poor, with no wealth, and our people are all...”

Lugu frowned, ”No need to speak nonsense.”

The Wutian Chief nodded repeatedly, ”Yes, yes...”

”Let me ask you,” Lugu said in a deep voice, ”In this hundred-mile radius, everyone has died. Why did your tribe survive?”

The Wutian Chief stammered, ”This... this old man also doesn’t know. It should be the Lord of the Temple’s blessing that allowed us to survive by sheer luck...”

Upon hearing this, it was clearly a lie.

Lugu’s eyes turned cold, releasing the overwhelming pressure of a Late Golden Core Stage cultivator.

The chief shivered in fear, kneeling on the ground, trembling with fright.

Mo Hua then spoke, ”Lord Lugu...”

Lugu glanced at Mo Hua, said nothing, but withdrew his imposing presence.

Only then did the Wutian Chief feel a bit better.

Mo Hua slowly said, ”Tell the truth, how did you really survive? We won’t make things difficult for you.”

The Wutian Chief looked up and saw Mo Hua’s gentle and compassionate gaze, his face fair and transparent like a celestial being. Unsure of his identity, but with just one look, felt his divine soul redeemed.

”Yes, yes...” The Wutian Chief nodded repeatedly, but he was troubled again, ”This... noble sir, the old man truly hasn’t lied. Our Wutian Tribe, poor and suffering, has resided here in this secluded valley for generations, surviving merely by farming beans and grains, never venturing out, nor daring to let outsiders in.”

”Who knows when, the outside world suddenly changed. Everyone starved to death, leaving us too afraid to venture out, just scraping by in here...”

Mo Hua looked into the chieftain’s old and terrified eyes, confirmed he wasn’t lying, and then nodded.

”I understand. Rest assured, we won’t kill you.”

The Wutian Chief breathed a deep sigh of relief and bowed, saying, ”Thank you... my lords.”

”You may leave,” Mo Hua said.

The Wutian Chief felt like he had received amnesty, saying, ”Yes.”

After the chieftain left, Mo Hua instructed everyone to camp outside the valley, taking a temporary rest.

But he established a rule: they must not violate or harm the people of the small tribe.

Dan Zhu and the others nodded in agreement; they had gradually become accustomed to this practice of ”not causing harm.”

However, Lugu and his Shugu Tribe followers were somewhat displeased.

It’s just an insignificant small tribe, they could easily be wiped out, take what is useful, and burn the rest. Why bother with false courtesy?

But they were allies, and clearly it was Mo Hua, the shaman, who was in charge. They could not ignore Mo Hua’s words.

Once temporarily settled, Mo Hua, under the guard of Chi Feng, went to the highest cliff in the valley to observe the spread of the famine disaster.

The view here was the best, allowing him to see the landscape far into the distance.

Mo Hua looked deeply, silently observing everything, his divine thought fading, his computational power still operating.

Chi Feng silently stood by, not daring to disturb Mo Hua.

After an unknown length of time, Mo Hua’s divine sense was faintly overdrawn, and he stopped his calculations.

At the same time, he took a deep breath, a trace of helpless pain on his face.

He understood why this little place hadn’t been swallowed by the famine disaster and managed to survive.

Firstly, it’s because the Wutian Tribe lives by farming.

The soil here in the Great Wilderness is dry and barren, incapable of growing anything good.

However, any place that could grow crops would indicate a relatively dense ”earth energy” gathering.

Such places with dense earth energy naturally have some ability to resist the spread of famine disaster.

Another point is that the spread of the famine disaster follows a ”pattern.”

Previously, Mo Hua believed that the famine disaster spread ”chaotically,” aimlessly expanding wherever it could.

But now, deep within the Third Grade Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm, combined with his previous research into Taotie’s Power, he gradually realized.

Famine disaster spread is not ”chaotic.”

If the Great Wilderness’s famine disaster was truly caused by some formation that contains Taotie Law.

Then the spread of the famine disaster likely follows the rules of that formation.

It spreads by following the trajectory of the formation.

Its essence of spreading is to ”compose” a formation on the land of the Great Wilderness.

The process of famine disaster spreading is the constant ”generation” of this formation that symbolizes ”disaster”—the Taotie Formation.…

This is truly a colossal formation composed using the ”earth” as a medium.

Not the simple ”drawing ground into formation” he used.

And the size of this formation might be beyond imagination...

Mo Hua sighed, his mood heavy:

”Famine Disaster Formation...”

…

The next day, at first light, Mo Hua had everyone set out.

He understood in his heart that under the current circumstances, time was running out. He must quickly rendezvous with the main Danque Tribe, and then gather everyone’s strength to plan the next steps.

Before entering the Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm, Mo Hua thought that under the famine disaster, wars would be frequent, and tribal conflicts and contradictions would be intensified.

Inside the Vermilion Bird Mountain Realm now should be a ”tribal war” scenario.

The result was completely different.

Now it’s not about ”fighting,” finding a way for everyone to ”not die” might already be as hard as ascending heaven.

This is indeed... the Famine Disaster Formation...

And it still contained Taotie’s Power.

Mo Hua’s mood was immensely heavy.

Once this formation is complete, the horror of it might truly be unimaginable.

The famine disaster formation hasn’t really formed yet, otherwise, the situation in the Great Wilderness would absolutely not be like it is now.

Its severity would surely be a hundredfold or a thousandfold worse than it is now.

And who possesses the ability to construct such a formation...

Mo Hua instinctively thought of a person.

A dark, obscure, bizarre figure slowly emerged in Mo Hua’s mind. ℯℯ𝑙.

Mo Hua sighed deeply.

”Indeed, from the beginning to the end, it has always been Uncle...”