Chapter 593: Chapter 1141: “Sinister” Scheme
Chapter 1141: "Sinister" Scheme
Inside a mountain cave sealed by formation.
A cold, eerie aura—familiar yet bone-chilling—permeated through the void.
Mo Hua held his breath, not daring to exhale. He forcibly severed all thought, cutting off every mental ripple, emptying his mind completely to avoid triggering any threads of karma that might invite the descent of sinister will.
Time crept forward, moment by moment.
The eerie chill slowly drifted in the void.
Mo Hua resembled a quiet mouse, silently hidden beneath the earth.
No one knew how long had passed, but eventually, the eerie aura in the air gradually faded, then fully dissipated.
Even then, Mo Hua remained cautious, breathing lightly, keeping still and vigilant, not daring to relax even for a second.
Just like that, the sun rose and fell, then rose again—three full days went by.
The air no longer felt oppressive.
And within the flow of karma, that unfathomable, ungraspable sinister presence was gone.
Only then did Mo Hua finally let out a long breath.
Yet even now, he didn't dare let his guard down. He didn't dare speak the name aloud. He didn't even dare think of those three characters in his mind.
He could only refer to him as "Martial Uncle."
"The Sinister Daoist"—that was his true name.
In this world, whenever someone mentioned the Sinister Daoist, karma would inevitably point to that person—the one who tread the treacherous path of fate, who, with merely Feathering-level cultivation, had risen to claim the highest title in the demonic path.
But "Martial Uncle"? There were many martial uncles.
Many people had martial uncles. Many people became martial uncles.
The karmic web tied to the term "Martial Uncle" was vast and tangled.
And such vastness meant chaos… and ambiguity.
That was why, when Mo Hua thought of those two words in his heart, almost no one would realize that his "Martial Uncle" referred to that terrifying figure whose mere mention sent chills down spines.
Calling him "Martial Uncle" was relatively safe.
At the very least, far safer than uttering the three words: "Sinister Daoist."
"So this whole thing…" Mo Hua carefully retraced the cause and effect, his expression becoming incomparably grim:
"Was this a trap secretly laid by Martial Uncle?"
"The Slaughter Qi in my body… was it Martial Uncle who… did something to me?"
"What exactly… is Martial Uncle planning?"
"And what sort of method… did he use?"
Mo Hua's brows furrowed tightly as he began pondering from the most basic point—Slaughter Qi.
Righteous path cultivators normally wouldn't touch Slaughter Qi. That belonged to the realm of the demonic path.
Except the Water Prison Sect.
But the Water Prison Sect studied Righteous Slaughter Qi—though "righteous" as it was called, even within the righteous sects it was still regarded as something skewed or even borderline heretical. Otherwise, the Water Prison Sect wouldn't have ended up in its current downfall.
Even then, the Water Prison Sect's study of Slaughter Qi couldn't be considered authoritative. The ones truly versed in it were still the demonic sects.
Many demonic sect legacies were built entirely upon Slaughter Qi.
Slaughter Qi was a kind of hostile "evil energy" imbued with murderous power. It could shake the soul, instill fear, and when used in demonic arts, it significantly amplified their might.
When one killed another, they became tainted with Slaughter Qi.
Many demonic cultivators wantonly massacred innocents to accumulate Slaughter Qi for refining demonic techniques.
To them, the heavier and stronger the Slaughter Qi, the better.
The stronger the Slaughter Qi, the deeper the demonic cultivation, and the more lethal their techniques.
But that's only true for demonic cultivators.
To those of the righteous path, it was a completely different story.
Slaughter Qi, born from killing, had extremely severe side effects on any cultivator.
Once a person killed too many, they naturally became numb to the very concept of "people."
They would slowly stop seeing others as human, treating them instead as resources, as tools, as slaves, as livestock—to be butchered at will.
And eventually, they'd stop seeing themselves as human, growing more indifferent, more selfish, more cold-blooded, and more cruel.
Their reason would gradually collapse into madness. Their humanity would be eroded and destroyed.
This side effect… to the demonic path? Meant nothing.
Because most demonic cultivators were essentially already beasts. Very few retained even a shred of humanity.
And those who did, after cultivating demonic arts, would lose it all eventually.
Hence a saying in the cultivation world:
"There are beasts wrongly slain, but no demonic cultivators wrongly killed."
"Every demonic cultivator deserves to die."
The line between righteous and demonic was as clear as daylight and darkness.
And that dividing line… was humanity.
Do you still treat others as people? Do you still consider yourself a person?
Demonic cultivators did neither—so for them, the soul-eroding nature of Slaughter Qi was irrelevant.
But to a righteous cultivator? It was an unforgivable taboo.
Even though "slaying demons and eradicating evil" was the righteous path's duty—if one killed too many demonic cultivators, they too could become numb, and their own humanity would come under siege.
Their Dao Heart would be tested… and tormented.
Many righteous cultivators soaked in mountains of corpses and seas of blood always walked a tightrope.
That taut string was all that kept their humanity intact. As long as the string remains, humanity remains.
But if one day, due to some sudden emotional shock, that mental string were to snap—then reason would instantly be replaced by bloodlust, and the Dao Heart would collapse in a breath.
A once-revered righteous cultivator, decisive and just, could fall in an instant… becoming a bloodthirsty demon.
Such tragic transformations happened more often than people wished.
That's why righteous cultivators emphasized cultivating virtue and restraint. They never indulged in slaughter lightly.
Unless forced, they wouldn't massacre large numbers of demonic cultivators in one go—it would only burden their Dao Heart.
In fact, the Dao Court and its laws advocated that if the situation allowed, demonic cultivators should be captured, then escorted to the Dao Prison to receive their sentence.
It was better to let the Execution Guillotine or the Slaughtering Arrays of the Dao Court shoulder the Slaughter Qi.
All of this… was for one goal: to preserve humanity—to protect the cultivator's Dao Heart.
As for Mo Hua's Slaughter Qi—it was so intense because he had wiped out far too many demonic cultivators all at once.
The sheer number of deaths resulted in a massive accumulation of Slaughter Qi that couldn't be dispersed.
And among the slain weren't just Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment cultivators—there were also numerous Golden Core experts… and even four Feathering-level demon lords.
So it wasn't just the quantity of Slaughter Qi that was excessive—the quality was also terrifyingly high.
And Mo Hua… was only at Foundation Establishment.
Even with his powerful divine sense, his cultivation level simply couldn't withstand the backlash—couldn't bear the erosion of his Dao Heart or the corrosion of his humanity.
But that… wasn't even the root problem.
Under normal circumstances, even if he had killed that many demonic cultivators, he wouldn't have had to suffer such a terrifying backlash from Slaughter Qi.
Because they were demonic cultivators.
These people were monsters—killing them shouldn't invoke karmic backlash.
Moreover, Mo Hua hadn't even killed them directly—he used formation arrays, an indirect method.
Those demonic cultivators didn't even know that the one who slaughtered them… was a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator.
The karmic link was vague, twisted, hidden—unknowable.
That kind of causality was blurry. Obscure. Shadowed from the heavens.
Which meant that, yes, there would be some backlash—but never something this overwhelming, as if drowning in a sea of blood.
Mo Hua had been merely suspicious before—but now, after suffering the backlash and walking through the valley of life and death in his own heart… he finally understood.
Someone tampered with this.
A terrifying master of fate had used some powerful fate-based technique to forcibly manifest causality.
He had revealed Mo Hua—exposed him as the true killer to the souls of the dead.
That act anchored everything.
All the resentment had found a "creditor."
All the vengeful spirits had a target for their wrath.
Slaughter, karma, malicious souls, ghosts of vengeance—were all twisted together, bound by fate, and forcibly dragged onto Mo Hua, chained tightly to his destiny.
And this terrifying master of fate… was most likely his Martial Uncle—
That dreaded Sinister Daoist. (Trickster Daoist)
Now that the trap was laid, any time Mo Hua committed a killing and birthed a trace of Slaughter Qi, it could become a spark—
A spark that would ignite his cursed destiny of Slaughter and Vengeance.
The slaughter would devour his mind. The vengeful ghosts would come for his soul.
He'd be blinded by murderous intent. His memories would be consumed by the spirits.
And once his reason was gone, once his memories vanished…
He'd forget the past. Forget who he was. Lose his "anchor." Be cut off from his roots as a person.
His humanity would gradually fade.
And if that ever truly happened, he would fall utterly into the demonic path, becoming a true demonic fiend.
"No… that's just the basic outcome…"
Mo Hua frowned deeply, his expression turning darker.
"If Martial Uncle really had a hand in this… then it won't be that simple."
"Once I lose my memory… once my humanity is gone… Martial Uncle might…"
"Descend personally—take control of my body—refine me into a blood-puppet… And turn me into… a true 'Little Sinister Daoist'?"
Mo Hua gasped coldly, limbs going numb. A chill surged through his soul once again.
So deep… such a pit of despair was hidden in all of this.
Martial Uncle's schemes… were far too horrifying.
But then, a new doubt crept into Mo Hua's mind.
"Was this really a trap Martial Uncle laid specifically for me?"
"I'm just a small Foundation Establishment cultivator—am I really worth all this trouble?"
"Am I overthinking this?"
And with that thought… another question arose: What exactly am I… in Martial Uncle's eyes?
A disciple of the Great Void Sect?
The top student of the Heavenly Dao Sect's array path?
The one who disrupted the evil god's scheme?
The one who shattered the blood-sacrifice formation?
Or… am I simply his Little Martial Nephew?
Suddenly, Mo Hua paused, puzzled by a strange thought:
"Does Martial Uncle even know… that he's my Martial Uncle?"
"Does he know… that I exist as his little martial nephew?"
Mo Hua furrowed his brows, falling into deep thought.
Logically speaking, Martial Uncle should know.
After all, back in the Da Li mountain province, they had traveled together for a long stretch—ate noodles by the roadside, spent a night at a temple, roasted sweet potatoes together. He had even learned Dao Heart Seeding Demon from Martial Uncle.
And in the end, even though Martial Uncle had tried to kill him, he still helped Mo Hua break through the bottleneck of the Heavenly Deduction Art and build his Foundation.
If you really thought about it, their "bond" was actually quite deep.
And that… was exactly the problem.
Mo Hua tried putting himself in Martial Uncle's shoes—if he were Martial Uncle, and he knew someone like himself existed, someone who could one day become a threat...
Then he'd do everything in his power to eliminate him immediately.
Yet ever since that incident, Mo Hua had felt like Martial Uncle had simply… "forgotten" about him.
As if the man didn't even know who he was...
Why?
Mo Hua frowned. "Martial Uncle's sinister will can split into countless fragments. The 'Martial Uncle' in Lishan City definitely wasn't the true body."
"That 'Martial Uncle' died and never returned to the original body… so maybe the true Martial Uncle still doesn't know who I am?"
"Or maybe, even now, he's uncertain whether I'm really his martial nephew?"
"But then… what about the blood-sacrifice array?"
"He gathered the Slaughter Qi and channeled it into me, refined the vengeful souls into malicious ghosts to come hunt me down… Does that mean he did recognize me?"
"Or… does he still not know who I am, and just sees me as someone useful—a pawn on the board?"
Mo Hua found that entirely plausible.
But the very next moment, his expression suddenly changed.
"Why am I just casually trying to guess Martial Uncle's thoughts… as if that's something I'm capable of?"
"If Martial Uncle's thoughts were that easy to figure out, would he still be someone who walks the Sinister Dao?"
"In fact… if I feel like I have guessed his thoughts, then chances are—it's only because he let me think I had."
The moment that thought crossed his mind, Mo Hua's heart suddenly clenched with fear.
"No—no more overthinking. That's enough. If I keep going, what if I really summon Martial Uncle's attention? Then I'm done for…"
And the more he thought, the more he started to feel… like he was already being affected by Dao Heart Seeding Demon.
It was as if, without realizing it, Martial Uncle had already planted a demon seed inside his mind.
Mo Hua quickly collected his thoughts, steadied his spirit, and forcibly put all speculation aside.
But his heart remained heavy.
He had a foreboding feeling: one day in the future, sooner or later… he would come face to face with Martial Uncle.
And on that day, it wouldn't be just a fragment of Martial Uncle's sinister will he'd face—
It might very well be… the true body.
Mo Hua didn't even dare imagine how strong Martial Uncle's true self might be.
With his current cultivation, array mastery, and spiritual sense—even if he gave it everything he had, in front of Martial Uncle's true self, he would have no power to resist.
In the blink of an eye, he'd likely be turned into a toy, tormented to death— And he might not even know how he died.
A crushing sense of urgency welled up in Mo Hua's chest.
"Form the Core!"
Only by forming his Golden Core as soon as possible, by rapidly advancing his cultivation and strengthening his spiritual sense, could Mo Hua hope to survive in the hands of Martial Uncle.
In addition, he needed to study more advanced Fate and Karma Arts, to unravel the sinister setup Martial Uncle had laid for him—a trap woven from vengeful spirits and murderous calamity.
Otherwise, from now on, he wouldn't even dare to kill lightly.
Every time he killed, Slaughter Qi would be born.
For ordinary cultivators, the backlash from killing one or two people—creating minor traces of Slaughter Qi—was negligible.
But Mo Hua was different. The moment he killed, even the slightest hint of Slaughter Qi would become a fuse, igniting the terrifying spirits bound to his fate, triggering overwhelming karmic backlash.
The malicious ghosts and fierce aura would stir up his killing intent, distort his mind, devour his memories, and erode his humanity, ultimately pushing him into a state of irreversible damnation.
Without mastery in advanced karmic techniques, there was no way to break this fate or dissolve the curse.
And this trap—had been laid by Martial Uncle himself.
If he committed too many killings and triggered his fate too frequently, Mo Hua was nearly certain Martial Uncle would notice.
Once that happened, Martial Uncle could locate him and directly send his sinister will down upon his soul.
In other words—every kill Mo Hua made…
Every time he triggered the backlash from the malicious spirits…
Would slightly increase the chance that Martial Uncle noticed him.
And with that… the day of their eventual encounter would draw ever closer.
Just thinking about that day made Mo Hua's scalp go numb.
"I have to form my core as soon as possible—the sooner, the better…"
Mo Hua looked inward, checking his state: the fierce aura was suppressed, his fate had stabilized, and his Sea of Consciousness was uncorrupted.
Only then did he gather his belongings, erase all traces of the formation inside the cave…
And left.
Once outside, Mo Hua scanned the surroundings with his spiritual sense.
The other Elders from Yin Corpse Valley were gone, just as he expected. They no longer dared to pursue him.
Mo Hua finally let out a quiet breath of relief. Then, comparing his location with the map, he confirmed his direction—
And in the next instant, his body turned into a streak of waterlight, vanishing toward the Great Wilderness…
(End of this Chapter)