Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 675 – Assistance

After a long while, Mo Hua finally exited his state of "enlightenment," and his mind became clear and bright.

The three-colored light faded from his eyes, and all the newfound comprehension settled quietly into the depths of his heart.

No need to treat gods as "gods"…

Let divinity and humanity merge, and temper the Dao Heart.

With that, the hesitation in Mo Hua's heart vanished. He could now officially begin his plan to "eat" gods!

He couldn't afford to "eat" powerful Heretic Gods—so the strategy was simple: start with the weaker "divine remnants" scattered to preach doctrine.

Mo Hua pulled out a sheet of paper and began mapping out the plan.

He first envisioned the process in his mind:

To eat a Divine Remnant, he first had to find one, seize it, then suppress it with divine sense, disinfect it with tribulation lightning, devour the divine marrow, and finally temper his Dao Heart through the assimilation of its "divinity."

There were two key challenges here:

Finding a Divine Remnant.

Snatching it.

Finding one would require clues.

Currently, the most direct leads related to the Heretic God—Lord of the Great Wilderness—and its scattered Divine Remnants were the black-clad human traffickers.

They wore full black robes to conceal their faces, used nondescript standardized magical tools, and secretly trafficked cultivators in the dark.

Even in death, they would destroy their corpses with demonic Qi to avoid exposure.

This group was organized, disciplined, numerous, and highly secretive—definitely linked to the Heretic Gods.

Not to mention, their leader had a blood-colored evil eye embedded in his forehead.

That eye? One of the Lord of the Great Wilderness's Divine Remnants.

Mo Hua had already killed that black-robed leader, whose body turned into black water and was buried in a remote mountain valley outside of Little Cloud City.

But Mo Hua had memorized his face.

He decided that when he had time, he would start investigating the black-robed leader's identity.

Besides that, human traffickers themselves were also a lead.

"Human traffickers…"

Mo Hua frowned slightly.

Ever since arriving in Qianxue Province, he had encountered quite a few of them.

From the very beginning—when they tried to kidnap Yu'er—and even Boss Jiang…

Then there was the bald vulture, and the wanted criminals hunted by the Dao Enforcement Bureau…

And even those demonic cultivators led by Fire Buddha, who massacred the entire Xie family—

who's to say they didn't dabble in trafficking cultivators?

Could all of them be tied to the Heretic Gods?

But what was the connection…?

The relationships were messy, murky, and difficult to unravel. Clearly, some key pieces were still missing.

Mo Hua scratched his head. For now, he couldn't figure it out, so he simply wrote down the two leads—human traffickers and the black-robed leader—and decided to dig deeper from there.

He now had some direction for finding the Divine Remnants.

Next came: snatching one.

That would be trickier.

Mo Hua mulled it over…

Wherever there was a Divine Remnant spreading doctrine, there would likely be followers, minions, or even divinely possessed servants.

To seize the Divine Remnant, he'd first have to deal with the people—those who willingly served the Heretic God.

Only after that could he address the Divine part.

Ironically, the Divine part was actually easier.

As long as he targeted the smaller surrounding regions—lower-grade provinces and minor Immortal Cities—he'd mostly be dealing with First- or Second-grade Divine Remnants.

If one of those dared to enter his spiritual sea, it would be like tossing a meat bun into a tiger's mouth.

With tribulation lightning on his side, even if the Remnant carried traces of the Heretic God's will, Mo Hua had nothing to fear.

So for now, his biggest problem wasn't the gods—it was the people.

Those black-robed cultists and lackeys of the Heretic Gods—they were the real trouble.

Mo Hua realized that his current strength was clearly insufficient to deal with them.

Foundation Establishment… late-stage?

He thought about it again and decided to be conservative—

Let's say below mid-stage Foundation Establishment.

If the enemy was only low-level cannon fodder, he could handle them on his own.

But once they came in groups, he'd be overwhelmed fast.

Especially against mid-stage Foundation Establishment foes, he'd need to throw everything at them.

And it'd have to be a surprise attack—they couldn't know his trump cards in advance.

He'd need formations, forbidden techniques, some schemes, layers of deception, and a little bit of shameless trickery…

Only maybe then could he eke out a win.

Exhausting… and extremely risky. Low margin for error.

He was just one little guy. If he wasn't cautious and meticulous with his plans, one slip-up, and he'd be sinking in the gutter—dead before he knew it.

He'd learned that firsthand when he fought the black-robed leader at mid-stage Foundation Establishment.

And the most crucial thing—his trump cards couldn't be exposed often.

Hidden techniques like Concealment Art, Formation Drawing, and Mini-Meteor Forbidden Spell—

The more secretive, the better. If his enemies knew in advance, they could prepare and completely neutralize him.

Like what if every enemy carried a "Shadow-Revealing Mirror," and laid Illusion-Breaking Arrays wherever they went?

Or refused to walk unclear paths, avoided nighttime entirely, and never stepped near areas that could hide formations…

Or wore full-body armor, enchanted daoist robes with Water Shield Arrays to block his mini-meteors…

Or simply never let him get close in the first place!

Even thinking about it gave Mo Hua a headache.

He was just one person. No noble clan to back him. Weak body. Low spirit power. Not much in terms of brute strength.

He had every reason to fear being targeted or manipulated.

The fewer of his tricks that got exposed, the better.

Mo Hua sank into deep thought.

"I need help…"

He needed teammates, otherwise, he was just a lonely pawn.

Someone up front to tank or draw fire.

He'd stay hidden in the back, tossing spells, controlling the field, offering subtle support—

Minimal exposure of his trump cards.

And even if someone did find out about him, who'd care about a little "tagalong rogue cultivator"?

The problem was—he didn't really have teammates.

Originally, Senior Sister Murong and Senior Brother Feng would've been great—deep cultivation, skilled techniques, and rich experience.

But they were one year ahead of him. Senior disciples with their own agendas.

No guarantee they'd keep hanging out with him later.

That left only fellow disciples from his own batch.

The most suitable candidates?

Cheng Mo and Situ Jian.

Mo Hua clicked his tongue.

He didn't mean to be rude, but… both Cheng Mo and Situ Jian were a bit on the "green" side.

Sure, they'd just entered the sect with solid foundations,

but they were still only early Foundation Establishment.

Their techniques were decent, but they lacked actual combat.

Their talent and perception were good, but they had zero experience dealing with demonic or heretic cultivators.

They were both taller than him, a couple years older—

But in Mo Hua's eyes?

Still too "tender"...

Against Heretic Gods and cultists, one misstep could cost your life.

Cheng Mo and the others had already nearly died when those black-clad cultists hunted them.

Later, when they ambushed the black-robed leader at that abandoned forge, they were nearly wiped out by a single blast of bloodlight from the evil eye.

Mo Hua sighed.

Given the situation, this "little senior brother" just didn't have the heart to drag them into life-threatening missions.

As for relying on the Dao Enforcement Bureau? Out of the question.

He couldn't just walk up to Uncle Gu and say,

"Hey, I wanna 'eat' some Heretic Gods. Can you send a few enforcers to help me bag some cultists?"

Uncle Gu was "formation-blind" and didn't even train divine sense.

He'd never believe him.

Could he use "tracking down traffickers" as an excuse?

Mo Hua thought about it, then shook his head.

The Dao Enforcement Bureau could hunt them down on their own. They wouldn't bring a sect disciple along.

Plus, as a disciple of the Great Void Sect, he had to stay within the sect for cultivation.

He could only leave during scheduled breaks.

His schedule wouldn't align with the Bureau.

Even if they had operations, they wouldn't wait for him.

Besides… the Bureau might even have a traitor on the inside.

After weighing everything, he really had only one option left:

Cheng Mo and Situ Jian.

They were from the same sect, same schedule, and called him "little senior brother."

They'd even bought him chicken legs.

After the incident with the black-cloaked traffickers, they'd practically lived and died together—fought side by side.

Though they came from noble families, they weren't arrogant brats.

Young, passionate, and easy to get along with…

Mo Hua let out a small sigh.

"They're just… a bit green…"

Their cultivation wasn't high, and their experience was shallow.

After mulling it over for a bit, Mo Hua suddenly changed his line of thought:

"Experience is something you build over time. Most things are just 'strange the first time, familiar the second.' Cheng Mo and the others have decent talent. Once they get through some dangerous situations, they'll naturally gain experience…"

"There's definitely some risk… but with me around, it should be a little safer…"

"The real issue is still their cultivation and power…"

Mo Hua frowned—and suddenly, four words popped into his mind:

"Supportive Slaughter."

Those long-ago words from Mr. Zhuang echoed clearly in his mind:

"Don't focus on direct killing techniques. Instead, learn to support slaughter…"

"To master slaughter is to compete with other prodigies."

"But to support slaughter… is to help those prodigies compete."

"The stronger your supportive slaughter methods are, the less anyone will dare offend you."

"In that case, even without backing from a noble clan, any noble clan could become your ally…"

"In this ruthless and utilitarian world of cultivation, among countless talented geniuses with rare spiritual roots and powerful techniques—you too can carve out your place!"

A wave of understanding washed over Mo Hua.

Suddenly, another ancient saying came to mind:

Water nourishes all things and does not compete; thus, nothing under heaven can compete with it.

Supportive slaughter would allow him to enhance Cheng Mo and the others' strength, giving them the ability to "work for him"—tracking down cultists, hunting Heretic Gods.

At the same time, even if he didn't rely on his "Little Senior Brother" title, this path of support would still help him earn a real footing among his peers and ensure others wouldn't dare underestimate him.

Because by helping others kill, he wouldn't steal the spotlight. He wouldn't become a target of jealousy from arrogant prodigies or a thorn in the side of powerful clans.

In fact, they might even try to recruit him instead.

And the most important thing—he could stay in the shadows.

Mo Hua still remembered something else his master had told him back when he was first learning supportive techniques:

"The first beam to stick out gets the rot."

"You don't need to stand in the spotlight. You shouldn't stand in the spotlight."

"Learn to hide in the dark. Learn to ride the wave. Swim among the great sects and noble clans like a fish in water—adaptable, smooth-talking. Only then can you go far—step by step advancing your cultivation, comprehending formations, and seeking the true Dao…"

Supportive slaughter.

Avoid the limelight.

Hide in the shadows.

Learn to borrow strength.

Back then, Mo Hua didn't fully understand. But now, here in Qianxue Province, those words hit home.

On the surface, Qianxue was peaceful—

But beneath that surface, undercurrents surged.

Criminal cultivators, demonic cultivators, heretical cultivators—intertwined and rampant.

Human traffickers were like cockroaches—you thought they were gone, and a nest would pop up the moment you let your guard down.

Heretic Gods lurking, evil desires growing, sinister karma spreading…

He had to keep a low profile—or risk becoming a target.

Mo Hua gradually came to understand—

When a tree rises above the forest, the wind will destroy it.

Since that's the case, he—this little sapling—needed to stay hidden in the woods.

No standing out. No attracting attention.

Otherwise, he'd get torn apart by the wind.

The Great Void Sect was the forest.

His fellow disciples were the other trees.

The more excellent and powerful they were, the better he could hide.

And once he was hidden among a lush forest, absorbing nutrients quietly…

One day, without anyone realizing it, he'd grow into a towering, heaven-reaching tree!

Mo Hua's eyes sparkled faintly, and he couldn't help but marvel in his heart:

"Master really is amazing…"

"He planned all of this out… so long ago!"

"Supportive Slaughter!"

Mo Hua had found his direction.

His thoughts grew clear:

Use his own skills to enhance Cheng Mo and the others.

Then, with their help, track down traffickers, hunt down Divine Remnants, and devour divine marrow.

All while hiding in the shadows—

Avoiding the spotlight as much as possible.

And at the same time, finding new ways to conceal his trump cards even more effectively.

After that, he'd just rely on his "support" skills to survive comfortably in the sect!

Mo Hua nodded to himself.

But this kind of thing required many careful considerations.

Especially hunting Heretic Gods—which carried immense risk.

It might be a bit too soon to drag Cheng Mo and the others into that.

However, the supportive slaughter part—that could be prioritized first.

But how exactly do you support slaughter?

What are the methods, the limits? How do you apply it in actual combat?

All of that… would require careful study.

...

In the days that followed, Mo Hua found himself constantly mulling over the idea of "support."

No matter how he thought about it, everything still circled back to formations and spells, especially the application of formations, which was the key element.

But applying formations…

Mo Hua could do it easily himself—just channel divine sense into his brush and draw directly on the ground.

However, using formations to assist others involved a lot more: formation design, crafting formation media, and ensuring compatibility with his fellow disciples' spiritual roots, cultivation techniques, Dao arts, and combat styles.

He had to think everything through before taking action.

So over the next few days, whenever Mo Hua wasn't in class or was on a break, he was always tinkering with this issue.

One noon, Mo Hua was eating in the disciples' quarters—munching on a chicken leg while absentmindedly pondering formations.

Suddenly, Cheng Mo sat down beside him and began sighing dramatically.

He sighed and sighed… but Mo Hua didn't even look at him.

So Cheng Mo stealthily slid a chicken leg toward Mo Hua as tribute, staring at him expectantly.

Mo Hua accepted it, nodded, and said, "Alright, what is it?"

Only then did Cheng Mo perk up. "Mo Hua, earning merit points is too hard!"

"Mm." Mo Hua took a bite of chicken.

"I made only fifty points this whole month."

"Oh." Mo Hua's cheeks were puffed with food.

"Regular missions barely give anything…"

"I can draw formations," Mo Hua replied casually.

Cheng Mo's expression twisted. Inside, he was both envious and a little jealous.

Mo Hua didn't have many spirit stones, but in terms of merit points, he was a legitimate little tycoon—way richer than them.

"I'm almost out of merit already…" Cheng Mo muttered helplessly.

"Oh…" Mo Hua kept chewing, unfazed—then suddenly paused, eyeing him suspiciously:

"You're not about to ask me to lend you merit points, are you? 'Cause that's not happening."

He still had tons of formations to learn—he didn't even have enough points for himself.

"No no no…" Cheng Mo said quickly.

"Then what do you want?" Mo Hua asked, puzzled.

Cheng Mo leaned in, whispering sneakily, "Mo Hua… do you have any, you know, fast ways to earn merit?"

"Form—"

"No formations," Cheng Mo cut him off flatly.

Making him, a formation idiot, earn merit through formations? That's like asking a pig butcher to do embroidery. Pure torture.

He looked at Mo Hua, his eyes full of silent resentment.

Mo Hua sighed. "Then I've got nothing for you…"

Cheng Mo shook his head. "I know you've got a way."

Mo Hua raised an eyebrow. "What makes you so sure?"

Cheng Mo leaned in closer and whispered, "You're smart. You've got Old Mister Xun backing you, an uncle in the Dao Court, you're… very experienced in upholding justice. I'm sure you know some special tricks."

"…Mister Xun is not my backer," Mo Hua said seriously.

Cheng Mo's face said, I don't believe that for a second.

Mo Hua sighed in exasperation. "So what kind of trick are you looking for?"

Cheng Mo hesitated for a moment, then looked around sneakily and said:

"Are there… any more traffickers to catch?"

Mo Hua was surprised, but still shook his head. "Traffickers aren't like rats—you can't just decide to catch one whenever you want…"

"Even once a month would be fine… that's three hundred merit points!" Cheng Mo whined.

He was earning fifty a month now. Fifty!

Mo Hua continued munching in silence.

"Other criminals are okay too…" Cheng Mo sighed again. "There are too many disciples doing missions now. The good ones get snatched up immediately, and what's left gives barely any points."

"Some of the missions that do give a lot, they won't even let us take—our resumes are too thin, not enough completed missions."

"'Us'?" Mo Hua raised a brow. "Who else?"

"Who else? Just Situ Jian and the others…"

Cheng Mo let out another long sigh. "At this rate, I'll be eighty by the time I save up enough merit to exchange for body-refining treasures…"

Clearly, the performance had begun—Cheng Mo was now officially selling misery.

Mo Hua looked thoughtful.

Originally, he hadn't planned to bring Cheng Mo and the others into things so soon.

Hunting Heretic Gods was way too dangerous.

It was too early for them.

But now they couldn't even earn basic merit…

Mo Hua's thoughts stirred.

Maybe… start simple? Let them get some practice first?

Begin with low-risk missions—catching some criminal cultivators, just to build experience.

Then work their way up, bit by bit, until they were ready to go after the black-clad traffickers and Heretic God pawns.

Cheng Mo noticed Mo Hua blinking slowly—clearly deep in thought. His eyes lit up, sensing a potential breakthrough.

He quickly handed over another chicken leg and solemnly declared:

"Senior Brother… I'm counting on you!"

Mo Hua accepted it, thought for a while, and sighed—deliberately putting on a troubled face.

"Let me think it over. If I figure something out, I'll let you guys know."

Cheng Mo was overjoyed. "Thanks, Senior Brother! From now on, you're like my big bro!"

Mo Hua had already been Cheng Mo's "big bro"… multiple times. It wasn't exactly fresh material anymore.

Still, bringing them along to earn some merit—didn't sound like a bad idea.

And "supportive slaughter" wasn't as simple as it sounded.

If he wanted to refine that method, using them as "test subjects" was actually a good way to start experimenting.

Mo Hua gave a slight nod—his mind made up.

During the next rest period, Mo Hua paid another visit to the Gu Clan.

He wanted to talk to Uncle Gu—ask if it was possible to "pull some strings" and have him issue missions through the Dao Court that Mo Hua himself could take on, to hunt criminals and earn merit.

If Uncle Gu agreed, then Mo Hua would have successfully created a fully closed-loop merit-earning pipeline connecting the Dao Court and the Great Void Sect.

Once that pipeline was up and running, Mo Hua could:

create missions,

accept them himself,

complete them himself,

and collect the rewards…

All in-house. Fast. Efficient. Profitable.

Right now, he wasn't desperate for merit.

But later on, he'd need a lot—for formations, cultivation, refining…

You could never have too much merit.

Of course, this all hinged on Uncle Gu saying yes.

Before, Mo Hua wasn't confident.

But after what happened with the Fire Buddha, and considering their current "friendship," Mo Hua thought there was a good chance Uncle Gu would agree.

Even if he didn't—he still had to try.

However, just as Mo Hua walked into the Gu estate, right through the front gate, he unexpectedly ran into a cultivator.

The man had a robust frame, impressive bearing, a resolute gaze, tanned skin, and muscles like iron blocks. His blood energy was intense, and his cultivation deep.

This man was none other than the third-grade Jindan refiner of the Gu Clan's Lone Mountain Artifact City—

Master Gu.

(End of this Chapter)