Chapter 744 – Little Blockhead
After exchanging a few polite words, both sides parted ways.
Mo Hua, after saying farewell to Ouyang Feng, wandered around the mountain a bit longer. He picked out another blue-headed hawk, summoned his flying sword, and cleanly butchered it before stripping it for materials.
As dusk began to fall, Mo Hua descended the mountain and exchanged the materials for merit points at the gate.
Solo sword flight, two avian demon beasts—nearly 1800 merit points in hand.
Mo Hua was very satisfied.
But as he headed down, he glanced back at Demon Refining Mountain and noticed that not only was the mountain gate bustling, but even inside the mountain itself, the number of disciples hunting demon beasts had significantly increased.
"Getting livelier by the day…"
Mo Hua smiled slightly at the thought.
After he left, another figure appeared at the mountain gate.
The disciple guarding the entrance quickly cupped his hands and greeted, "Elder Xun."
"Mm."
Xun Ziyou nodded in response.
Another Tai'a Sect elder stationed nearby, who was quite familiar with Xun Ziyou, asked curiously:
"Ziyou, why've you been running up the mountain so much lately? That's not like you…"
He knew Elder Xun to be the lazy type.
Normally, he'd just sit by the gate, sipping tea, enjoying the breeze, chatting. If there wasn't an urgent matter, he couldn't even be bothered to get up.
Yet lately, the man was acting like he lived up there.
Xun Ziyou sighed deeply, eyes filled with helplessness.
What choice did he have? That "little ancestor" had gone into the mountains—he had to follow.
He could run his legs to the bone and still be fine.
But if that little ancestor so much as lost a hair, he'd be the one in serious trouble.
Xun Ziyou sat down with a sigh, poured himself a cup of hot tea, and tried to calm his nerves.
For some reason, every time Mo Hua went into the mountains, he couldn't help but feel anxious.
Especially that sword flight technique of his—it made Xun's heart tremble every time he saw it.
He just couldn't understand: this "little ancestor" didn't even cultivate the sword. He wasn't a sword cultivator.
So how did he manage to fiddle together something that—although it looked a bit makeshift and could barely count as a real sword technique—was somehow insanely effective?
Was it that the boy's imagination was just too wild?
Or had Xun Ziyou simply grown too old and narrow-minded?
That sword flight… fast, long-range, minimal spiritual energy consumption, and required no real sword qi attainment.
It was downright ridiculous.
Mid Foundation Establishment, sword flying 180 feet without any loss in speed or force?
What kind of sorcery was that!?
Xun Ziyou's eyelids twitched.
Good thing that kid's flying sword was low-grade, and his sword formations weren't developed yet.
Otherwise, at the Foundation stage, he'd be a walking massacre.
If Mo Hua refined that technique to perfection, he could kill someone from afar in the blink of an eye—before the poor guy even saw where it came from.
Xun Ziyou was both awestruck and in awe.
No wonder the Old Patriarch saw potential in him.
Even with his mediocre, lower-mid spiritual roots, the old man had recognized Mo Hua's value.
Truly, the older the ginger, the spicier…
Xun Ziyou shook his head and sipped his tea.
"Too many Great Void Sect disciples in the mountains. I need to keep an eye on them."
He tossed out a casual excuse.
The Tai'a elder didn't suspect anything and nodded:
"That's true enough…"
Several peaks in the outer regions of Demon Refining Mountain were now packed with Great Void disciples.
Someone definitely needed to watch over them.
"Speaking of which," the Tai'a elder said thoughtfully, "your current generation of disciples is weird… totally different vibe compared to the previous ones."
Xun Ziyou held his cup mid-sip, letting out another sigh.
Yeah, that's all because of Mo Hua!
He'd completely shifted the entire generation's tone.
In the past, Great Void Sect disciples weren't like this…
While the sect atmosphere remained generally harmonious, the disciples were mostly family-born prodigies with eyes above their heads—no one submitted to anyone.
In Demon Refining Mountain, it was all about competition and comparisons—no one wanted to fall behind.
But now? They were so obedient.
Wearing identical armor, carrying identical spiritual tools, wielding identical "hunting guides"—entering the mountain like some sort of organized beast-slaying platoon.
Even the overall cultivation atmosphere had improved.
With this "Little Senior Brother" holding down the fort and offering guidance, everyone was more united and cooperative.
The other sects, though? No such change.
Their disciples still just wanted to climb to the top, outshine the other prodigies, and carve out a future for themselves.
Xun Ziyou paused, thinking of Mo Hua's gentle demeanor.
Suddenly, a phrase floated to the surface of his mind:
"Water benefits all things and does not contend. Because it does not contend, none can contend with it…"
As deadly as the sword. As gentle as water.
Xun Ziyou silently savored the thought, inwardly stunned.
The Tai'a elder noticed his prolonged silence and looked at him, puzzled.
Sensing the gaze, Xun Ziyou muttered vaguely:
"Who knows…"
"Still," he added more clearly, "I suppose it's a good thing. Arrays, spiritual tools—all meant to be used. Making the most of them is its own kind of skill."
The Tai'a elder considered this, then slowly nodded:
"You've got a point."
Suddenly, Xun Ziyou remembered something and asked:
"Your Tai'a Sect disciples seem to be getting chummy with the Broken Gold Sect lately?"
The Tai'a elder gave Xun Ziyou a long, unreadable look.
Xun Ziyou frowned, "What are you all planning?"
The elder glanced to the side.
Xun understood immediately.
They stood up and entered the inner chamber, activating a soundproof array.
The elder looked around, lowered his voice, and said:
"Ziyou, we've known each other for years. I won't lie to you. But you can't breathe a word of this outside, alright?"
Xun Ziyou's expression darkened slightly. He nodded.
The elder spoke in a low, serious tone:
"Tai'a Sect wants to take it to the next level."
Xun's expression sharpened. He nodded slightly.
"You want to break into the Four Great Sects?"
The Tai'a elder didn't even hesitate. His expression said, "Of course."
Xun frowned.
"Impossible. The Four Sects and Eight Gates are a fixed structure. No way they'd change just based on a few competition results."
The elder smiled faintly.
"They're about to change the structure."
Xun's pupils narrowed.
He'd heard some whispers before but hadn't taken them seriously.
Reforming the sect hierarchy was a huge deal—there'd be massive resistance.
It wasn't the first time such ideas had come up over the centuries, but they always fizzled out.
"Is that true?"
"Nothing's final yet, but the chances are high," the elder said. "If the old system gets broken up—Four Sects and Eight Gates—that's our chance!"
"A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"
"As you said, the Four Sects and Eight Gates are fixed. No matter how strong a sect gets temporarily, it won't move up."
"But if the system changes—anything's possible."
Xun considered for a moment, then said grimly:
"So… you're planning to collude with Broken Gold Sect?"
"Hey, hey, 'collude' sounds so dirty," the elder said, a bit annoyed. "Let's call it mutual support. Allies watching each other's backs."
"Our Tai'a Sect wants to jump from the Eight Gates into the Four Great Sects."
"They, Broken Gold Sect, want to jump from the Twelve Branches into the Eight Gates."
"Sure, officially there's no hierarchy between the Gates and Branches, but in structure and public perception, the difference is huge."
Xun's face turned grim. He muttered helplessly:
"But if someone goes up, someone else must go down…"
"If Broken Gold Sect makes the jump into the Eight Gates, that means Great Void Sect might be the one getting kicked down into the Twelve Branches…"
The Tai'a elder sighed:
"That depends on your sect."
"When it comes to sect interest, no one else can help. You can only rely on yourselves."
"To be blunt—if your Great Void Sect is strong enough, you might use this opportunity to ascend into the Four Sects yourselves."
"But if you can't hold your ground and get kicked out of the Eight Gates, who else can you blame?"
Xun Ziyou let out a soft sigh.
"Competing in the Dao Debate of Qianzhou, among all those peerless prodigies… being 'impressive' is easier said than done."
The Tai'a Sect elder took a sip of tea, glanced at Xun Ziyou, and said slowly:
"Our sect master has already spoken with Broken Gold Sect's Grand Elder. I don't know the specifics, but likely about the sect structure reforms, mutual support, that sort of thing."
"The Broken Gold Sect… they've got connections."
"There are some things they have that we—Tai'a, Chongxu, and Great Void, as lineage-linked sects—just don't."
"Since the sect intends to establish good relations, the disciples below naturally end up interacting more."
He sighed again. "You and I have been friends for many years, so I won't keep it from you. Consider this a heads-up: your Great Void Sect better stay alert."
"What really matters is the Dao Debate Conference."
"Our three sects share a lineage and a common ancestry. I sincerely hope that when we—Tai'a—ascend into the Four Great Sects, and Chongxu moves forward too, your Great Void Sect doesn't get pushed out of the Eight Gates…"
The Tai'a elder looked at Xun Ziyou with a complicated expression.
Xun's face was grave. After a long moment, he finally sighed deeply:
"I understand…"
The restructuring of sect ranks had stirred undercurrents among the upper levels of the major sects.
But as for Mo Hua?
He knew absolutely nothing about it—and no one thought to tell a low-ranking disciple like him.
He continued to quietly cultivate and attend his classes each day.
At the same time, he worked around the clock drawing formation diagrams, trying to break through his current realm so his divine sense could reach Eighteen Runes, enabling him to learn formations of that level.
But the restriction of the Heavenly Dao Laws remained in place.
His divine sense refused to grow.
When he had time, Mo Hua would also study the "Heavenly Dao Law" within his sea of consciousness, hoping to unlock its secrets.
Unfortunately, no matter how long and hard he pondered, he gained nothing.
After all, the concept of "laws" was at a level far beyond what a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator like him could grasp.
It was only then that Mo Hua realized… perhaps he had been a little arrogant before.
So, he adjusted his expectations.
He stopped aiming to understand the laws and settled for simply "feeding" them—so they'd hurry up and disappear and stop blocking his advancement.
As Mo Hua continued tempering his divine sense, the restriction seemed to slowly loosen.
The only question was: when would it finally be full? When would the limit finally lift…
During the ten-day rest period, Mo Hua followed his routine—sword training, eagle hunting, merit farming.
A flash of golden light from his flying sword sent a hawk plummeting from the sky.
Mo Hua rushed over with a blade, drained its blood, plucked the feathers, skinned and deboned it, extracting all usable materials.
By midday, he was a bit tired. He drank some fruit wine, chewed a bit of spiritual meat, then climbed into a big tree to rest with eyes closed.
But he hadn't been resting long before he noticed some commotion.
Mo Hua opened his eyes and peeked through the leaves—below, five figures were engaged in a battle with a demon beast.
They wore Tai'a Sect robes.
Mo Hua didn't recognize four of them.
But the fifth one—that guy—was familiar.
It was Ouyang Mu, the younger brother that Senior Brother Feng had entrusted him to look after.
Unlike the tall, dashing, sword-browed and star-eyed Feng, this little brother looked scrawny, with bronzed skin.
He really did resemble a "little block of wood."
They were fighting a Rank 2, early-stage demon beast.
It had red skin, was wreathed in flames, bore long fangs and black claws. Its brown-gold eyes burned with crimson light, and its movements left trails of fire.
This was a Fire Demon Wolf, a fire-type demon beast.
In terms of power, it wasn't especially strong or weak—right in the middle of early-stage Rank 2 beasts.
To Mo Hua, it was nothing impressive.
But for these newbie Tai'a disciples, it was a real struggle.
All five of them, including "Little Blockhead" Ouyang Mu, wielded red-gold spirit swords, engaging the wolf in close combat.
Tai'a Sect was known for its sword-casting arts—their spirit swords were of excellent quality.
And paired with their body-strengthening sword techniques, their combat style leaned toward body cultivation.
With tough physical bodies, sharp swords, the explosive force of body cultivators, and sword qi from sword techniques, they were formidable in melee.
Unlike spiritual cultivators or flying-sword sword cultivators who relied on powerful long-range techniques or mystic sword arts…
These martial-style sword techniques were fast, agile, and great at close-quarters combat—definitely not to be underestimated.
Senior Brother Feng himself used this kind of sword style.
During their previous bounty missions, they had relied on his strong, solo frontline combat so that Murong and Mo Hua, the spiritual cultivators, could cast spells in peace.
But these few Tai'a junior brothers? They couldn't compare to Feng at all.
Their cultivation, sword techniques, combat experience—even the quality of their spirit swords—were all far inferior.
Especially Ouyang Mu, the "blockhead." He had no idea what he was doing.
He'd lunge in to stab when he shouldn't, exposing himself and giving the beast an opening.
Then when it was his moment to strike, he'd hesitate, wasting the chance.
The others weren't much better.
They were… "passable," at best.
It was only thanks to solid cultivation foundations and youthful courage that they dared to fight at all.
But their offense and defense lacked coordination. Their timing was clumsy.
Compared to Situ's group, they were far worse.
Not even as sharp as Hao Xuan.
There was no way they were taking down that Fire Demon Wolf.
Sure enough, after a while, the wolf faked an opening, baiting two Tai'a disciples into attacking.
It then flared its demonic energy, igniting its body in flame.
While the two disciples overcommitted in a rush to earn merit and couldn't recover in time—it bolted, becoming a blazing streak vanishing into the distance.
Luckily, the disciples understood at least one thing: Don't chase a cornered beast.
And this was Demon Refining Mountain.
They were already nearly out of spiritual power.
So the group sat down on the spot, meditating to recover, all while grumbling:
"It got away again!"
"This keeps happening—we can never pin it down!"
One of them complained to Ouyang Mu:
"Mu, you keep messing up! Too many mistakes. We would've killed that wolf if not for you."
Another chimed in:
"We've told you this stuff before—did you even listen?"
"If you don't improve, how are we supposed to take you into the mountain again?"
Ouyang Mu lowered his head in shame, not saying a word.
One disciple, clearly annoyed, snapped:
"Say something, will you?"
"If it weren't for your brother—!"
"Enough," interrupted a slightly older disciple. "What's the point of saying that now?"
The irate one fell silent, though clearly still upset.
"At this rate, we can't catch a single beast or earn any merit. We're just wasting time…"
He didn't name names, but everyone knew who he meant.
The atmosphere grew awkward and quiet.
The scene grew a little quiet.
Mo Hua gently shook his head.
Yes, Little Blockhead really was lacking in experience, awkward with the sword, and made mistakes that held the team back.
But this squad's overall strength was what it was. They had no strategy in their beast hunting. Even if they swapped Ouyang Mu out for someone of similar strength, they still wouldn't have been able to kill that Fire Demon Wolf.
Blaming him for dragging them down was fair.
But blaming everything entirely on him? That was unreasonable.
People always found it easier to push their own shortcomings onto others—conveniently ignoring their own flaws in the process.
Still, this was an internal matter of the Tai'a Sect. Mo Hua had no reason to get involved.
Afterward, the five Tai'a disciples searched around the mountain some more but couldn't find a trace of the Fire Demon Wolf. As it was getting late, they had no choice but to pack up and head back.
On the way down, the other four kept shooting Ouyang Mu looks of frustration.
Ouyang Mu just kept his head down, silent and ashamed.
Mo Hua watched them leave the mountain and didn't meddle.
The next day, Mo Hua went into the mountain again to continue practicing sword control.
By midday, he was once again resting up in a tree when, unsurprisingly, he spotted Ouyang Mu again.
Still five people in the group—but the faces had changed.
The four companions with him today were no longer the same ones from yesterday.
It was unclear whether Ouyang Mu had left the old group out of guilt for holding them back…
Or whether the others had grown tired of dragging him along and simply ditched him.
Mo Hua let out a small sigh.
Their target, once again, seemed to be the Fire Demon Wolf.
But for a bunch of rookies like this, trying to hunt a Rank 2, early-stage demon beast was basically mission impossible.
Sure enough, they failed again.
Though all five were underwhelming, the blame naturally fell on the weakest link—Ouyang Mu.
He got scolded again.
But he was the quiet, inarticulate type—not good with words.
The others bickered among themselves. Before they even made it back down the mountain, the team had already fallen apart.
Mo Hua could tell—of the five, Ouyang Mu was the weakest in skill, but the most determined to hunt a demon beast.
The other four?
They weren't really hunting so much as showing off. Eager to be the star of the fight, they had almost no coordination.
Now the four were gone, and only Ouyang Mu remained.
He clutched his sword tightly, his expression resolute—but looking around at the empty woods, there was a trace of pain in his eyes.
He clearly wanted to keep hunting.
But he also knew he wasn't strong enough—not a match for any demon beast.
And yet… the idea of just heading down the mountain left him unwilling and frustrated.
Ouyang Mu stood there, frozen in place, caught in indecision—his expression growing more lost by the second.
Mo Hua sighed, then called out from high up in the tree:
"Little Blockhead!"
Startled out of his daze, Ouyang Mu looked up and saw, perched in a nearby tree, a young cultivator not much older than him—rosy-lipped, white-toothed—walking casually down from the branches, standing vertically on the trunk as if gravity didn't exist.
Ouyang Mu blinked in shock, then finally recognized him.
This was the Great Void Sect disciple he'd seen the other day in Demon Refining Mountain—the one who, despite being about his age, could talk and laugh so comfortably with his older brother.
His name was…
"Mo Hua."
"G-Greetings, Senior Brother Mo!"
Ouyang Mu greeted nervously but respectfully.
Mo Hua raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing here?"
"I…" Ouyang Mu hesitated. "I'm hunting demon beasts…"
He said it awkwardly, almost ashamed.
Because frankly, his beast-hunting skills were a total disaster.
Two full days, and he hadn't managed to kill even one.
Mo Hua asked again, "Your teammates all left. Aren't you going back?"
Ouyang Mu flinched—only now realizing that Mo Hua had seen the whole miserable show.
His expression fell, but he shook his head and replied firmly:
"I'm not leaving. I'm going to kill the Fire Demon Wolf."
"Why?" Mo Hua didn't get it.
Ouyang Mu mumbled, "I need its spine…"
"What do you need that for?"
"To forge a sword…"
Mo Hua paused—then his eyes instantly lit up.
"You know how to forge swords?!"
He'd heard plenty about it—Tai'a, Chongxu, and Great Void shared deep ties. Among them, Tai'a's sword-forging techniques were the most renowned!
Ouyang Mu, a bit flustered under Mo Hua's gaze, gave a slow, wooden nod.
Mo Hua beamed brightly. "What was it you said you needed again?"
Ouyang Mu blinked, then repeated softly:
"The Fire Demon Wolf's… spine."
Mo Hua nodded, then let out a sharp whistle.
After a moment, a Great Void Sect disciple came hurrying over from the distance.
"Little Senior Brother!"
Mo Hua said, "Go kill a Fire Demon Wolf and bring me one of its spines."
"Got it!"
The disciple dashed off again.
Moments later, from the distant mountains, came a series of loud rumbles—formation detonations, cultivators shouting, beasts roaring.
Then everything fell silent.
Soon after, the disciple returned, carrying a fresh, blood-stained, crimson spine wreathed in flame—and handed it to Mo Hua.
Ouyang Mu stared at the spine, jaw slowly dropping.
The Fire Demon Wolf's spine!
He had begged so many people, tried so many times, suffered so much—barely managed to form a team, fought tooth and nail—and still, even after the team disbanded, he'd failed to get it.
And now?
In just a few moments—without him even fully understanding what had happened—
A fresh, blood-hot, flame-coated Fire Demon Wolf spine was placed right in front of him?!
Ouyang Mu was stunned.
He looked up slowly, dazed, eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at Mo Hua.
His mind reeled:
Who… is this Senior Brother Mo, really?!
(End of Chapter)