Inside the mountain cave sealed by an array.
A familiar, icy, ghostly chill seeped through the void.
Mo Hua held his breath, scarcely daring to breathe. He forcibly cut off his thoughts, severing every flow of intent and keeping his mind blank, thus avoiding the stirring of certain karma and the descent of Ghostly Thought-Force.
Time trickled by.
The ghostly chill flowed slowly through the void.
Mo Hua was like a quiet mouse, lurking underground.
Who knew how long passed before the ghostly aura in the air slowly faded and gradually vanished.
Mo Hua still did not dare let down his guard. Even his breathing was careful as he remained safely hidden, not daring to slacken in the slightest.
Thus, sunrise turned to moonset and then sunrise again. A full three days passed.
There was no longer any oppressive feeling in the air.
Nor was there that elusive, unseeable ghostliness within karma.
Only then did Mo Hua finally let out a complete sigh of relief.
Yet even so, he still did not dare relax. He did not dare mention that three-character title aloud, nor even think of it in his heart.
Mo Hua could only call him "Martial Uncle."
"Ghost Daoist" was an exclusive title.
In this world, whenever Ghost Daoist was mentioned, the karma it pointed toward could only be that daoist who had walked the ghostly path of Heavenly Calculation and, with merely Feather Transformation Realm cultivation, ascended to the supreme title of the Devil Dao.
But there were many "Martial Uncles."
Many people had Martial Uncles, and many people became Martial Uncles.
There were simply too many people in the world whom "Martial Uncle" could refer to, and the mass of karma was far too complicated.
Complicated meant chaotic and vague.
Therefore, when Mo Hua thought those