Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 697 – Sword

Outside the Blood Refining Dao Altar, before the River God Temple—

Mo Hua opened his eyes.

Though his spiritual power and divine sense had been completely drained, the foundation of his divine sense was deep. So in just this brief moment, his divine sense had already begun to recover.

It was his spiritual power that was recovering more slowly.

Mo Hua took a few pills to replenish his spiritual energy, then sat in meditation to restore his divine sense.

There was still a faint sting lingering in his sea of consciousness.

That was the aftereffect of forcibly activating the Heavenly Pattern Deduction, splitting his divine sense into multiple deceitful wills—an act that inflicted considerable damage on the sea of consciousness.

Three split deceitful wills.

Four-fold divine sense to cast the array.

The speed increased by several times—

But so did the consumption.

In just a flash, his divine sense was completely emptied.

And this was despite Mo Hua already being at the early Foundation Establishment stage, with sixteen-rune quality-transformed divine sense, far stronger than most of his peers.

Even so, he couldn't help but feel:

"My divine sense... still isn't enough."

Mo Hua sighed.

If his divine sense were strong enough, he could truly cast formations like spells, summoning a hundred arrays in a single thought.

Layer upon layer of deceitful formations…

Instantly forming slaughter arrays to turn the tide in moments of crisis.

Of course, it would burn through spirit ink and spirit stones like mad—it'd be pricey. But worth it.

Moreover, the quality transformation of divine sense seemed to enhance his ability to split deceitful wills as well.

Splitting deceitful wills was essentially forcibly dividing divine sense for multi-threaded deduction—something that placed immense strain on the mind.

Originally, he could only split off one will.

Just now, he pushed himself to the brink and managed to split a second.

If not for recently devouring that Divine Marrow, which further evolved his divine sense and stabilized its foundation, he wouldn't have been able to split out that third deceitful will beyond his limit.

Three deceitful wills in total.

His Heavenly Pattern Deduction was now two levels stronger than before.

But… Mo Hua suddenly wondered:

"Is Senior Uncle's Heavenly Pattern Deduction also measured by how many deceitful wills one can split?"

"He never told me…"

Mo Hua muttered to himself, then fell into thought again.

If he could split three deceitful wills…

Then what about his Senior Uncle?

Back when his Senior Uncle implanted a devil seed in Mo Hua's Dao heart, appeared in his sea of consciousness, and helped him unravel that grand heavenly formation—

That scene of countless deceitful shadows swirling like a hive appeared once more in Mo Hua's mind.

Countless deceitful shadows…

Mo Hua's heart trembled.

If that was his Senior Uncle's true level… then he was unbelievably strong!

Compared to that, Mo Hua's measly three deceitful wills were like three droplets in an ocean of buzzing shadows.

"As expected of Senior Uncle!" Mo Hua nodded to himself, full of awe.

But then—another doubt arose in his mind.

"I only managed three deceitful wills after devouring Divine Marrow, evolving my divine sense, and nearly collapsing my sea of consciousness…"

"Then how did Senior Uncle manage to split out so many, dense and unending?"

Could it be… that his divine sense had undergone some special transformation as well?

Or maybe—there existed an even more profound technique for splitting deceitful wills—one that his Senior Uncle never taught him?

…No, wait.

"Senior Uncle never planned to teach me to begin with… can't blame him."

If anyone was at fault, it was Mo Hua himself—for not being clever enough to grasp the essence of the Deceitful Path from his master.

Mo Hua sighed again.

"Life is finite, but the Dao is infinite."

Seems he still had a long way to go.

He calmed his mind, preparing to resume meditation to restore his divine sense—but couldn't help it.

One last thought bubbled up.

"Splitting divine sense…"

Mo Hua frowned.

He remembered Huang Shanjun once said that powerful deities could split themselves into thousands of forms.

So could the evil gods—like that golden demonic eye, a god-corpse of the Great Wilderness Evil God.

It once said:

"The Great Wilderness is boundless—its god-corpses are endless."

This meant the Lord of the Great Wilderness had already split off countless divine remnants.

So deities could split themselves…

And the Deceitful Path could split itself too…

Mo Hua's heart trembled again.

"Could it be… that Heavenly Pattern Deduction, and the splitting of deceitful wills, was actually modeled after how deities split their divine essence?"

Deities split divine essence into god-corpses.

Cultivators split divine sense into deceitful wills.

So then… these deceitful wills—could they be considered miniature god-corpses?

Was he, in splitting deceitful wills, essentially creating his own god-corpses?

This idea startled Mo Hua.

He pondered it carefully—and realized:

While splitting deceitful wills and splitting god-corpses weren't exactly the same (one was a technique of cultivators, the other the innate ability of gods)—

Still, at the core… they felt increasingly similar.

But there was no way to prove it.

It's not like he could go ask his Senior Uncle or the Great Wilderness Evil God for a philosophical chat about the difference between deceitful wills and god-corpses.

He'd probably get killed on the spot.

One might turn him into a puppet,

the other might eat him and make him into a "little god-servant."

Mo Hua shivered, shook his head.

"Forget it. Maybe someday, if the stars align…"

He buried the thought in his heart—perhaps one day he could ask his old friend Huang Shanjun again.

Still, through this experience, he had groped his way into a clearer path for advancing his divine sense:

The more Divine Marrow he consumed, the deeper the quality of his divine sense transformed.

The more deceitful wills he could split.

The stronger his Heavenly Pattern Deduction became.

The richer the divine sense, the stronger the foundation for supporting calculations.

Whether deduction, formation-casting, or spell-casting—speed improved across the board.

All under heaven, no technique can beat speed.

Formations and other Dao arts were no exception.

If you're fast enough, you seize the initiative.

If you're fast to the extreme, your enemy won't even get a chance to breathe.

Endless attacks, endless spells—

It'll always be your turn!

"Divine Marrow…"

Mo Hua looked up at the River God Temple ahead, and—out of habit—licked his lips.

Then he calmed his emotions, pretended nothing had happened, and quietly resumed meditation to restore himself to peak condition.

Everyone else was also sitting in meditation, taking pills and healing.

The breakout from the Fiend Dao Altar had been incredibly dangerous—

But luckily, everyone made it out alive.

Though wounded, none were lost.

It was a narrow escape, but a successful one.

The two black-robed men used as "sacrificial bait" were covered in wounds.

But as human traffickers with blood on their hands, no one really cared as long as they still had a pulse.

Once everyone had recovered, Mo Hua's divine sense and spiritual energy had also returned to a stable level.

The group set out, heading toward the River God Temple.

Just before reaching it, Mo Hua suddenly stopped, his expression shifting slightly.

"Sword intent?"

He scanned the area—

The ground in front of the River God Temple was scarred with sword marks, as if a sword cultivator had fought fiercely here long ago.

The ground was crisscrossed with deep sword grooves.

Several stone pillars near the temple had clearly been cleaved by sword qi.

Even after centuries, residual sword intent still lingered.

It was clear the sword cultivator who fought here had remarkable mastery of the blade.

And for someone to wield a sword and fight their way alone to the foot of this evil god's temple—

Their divine sense must've been terrifyingly strong.

Mo Hua's eyes lit up.

He observed the sword marks, guiding his divine sense to feel the will behind the cuts.

Unfortunately, the sword intent seemed to have been corrupted or tainted by something.

What remained was impure, distorted.

As a half-baked sword cultivator, Mo Hua couldn't understand much.

Forget learning any techniques—he couldn't even parse a single proper move.

Mo Hua felt regret. And a little unwillingness.

"Should I… try calculating it?"

"Should I do a divination?"

Mo Hua murmured to himself, then immediately did exactly that—using his Heavenly Pattern Deduction to amplify his Heavenly Calculation on the spot.

His eyes turned pitch-black.

Above his divine sense projection, shadows began to split and multiply—

These deceitful shadows, like a cloak of inky robes, draped across Mo Hua's figure.

One layer. Two layers…

He wanted to split a third, but as soon as he reached the second, his sea of consciousness began to throb again—it seemed the injuries from earlier hadn't fully healed.

So he settled for just two deceitful wills.

Not perfect, but passable.

With two deceitful wills bolstering the calculation—under the Heaven's Simulation—

Mo Hua's vision flashed with light.

Causality surged forth, intertwining and weaving through space.

This time, the causal threads were even clearer than before.

Thin, pure-white lines of fate rose from the sword scars covering the ground, all drifting toward the River God Temple.

Mo Hua's heart skipped a beat.

That meant—the sword cultivation method was inside the River God Temple?

Without hesitation, Mo Hua strode toward the temple.

Just before stepping in, he paused, turned back, and reminded:

"That old bastard is probably inside. Stay alert."

The others all nodded.

Before the River God Temple stood two dark wooden columns lacquered in black and gold.

On them, faint characters remained—wishing for things like "favorable winds and timely rains" and "peaceful rivers and lakes."

But most of the characters had been shredded by sword energy—barely legible.

Above hung a plaque inscribed with three large characters:

"River God Temple."

Mo Hua swept his divine sense across the area. His brows furrowed slightly.

Then he stepped inside.

The entrance led directly to the main hall.

It was a vast, empty space.

Nothing around—only, far at the center, stood an offering table, upon which rested a statue of the River God.

It had the face of a fish and the body of a man, robed in clouds embroidered with oceanic waves.

Its hands were clasped at its chest.

Its mouth like a blood basin.

Teeth white and jagged.

Its gaze—dignified and terrifying.

Beneath the statue was a pool of blood.

Thick, sticky blood in which floated a human figure—Master She.

But he now looked bizarre—half-demonic, half-human.

The blood water constantly repaired his injuries.

Everyone tensed up and frowned.

Master She, soaked in blood, opened his eyes at the sound.

When he saw the group, his expression turned to shock. His voice rasped:

"You actually made it here?"

He let out a chilling laugh and slowly climbed from the pool.

The wounds on his body had already healed under the nourishment of the blood.

At the same time, his body swelled, muscles bulging, gradually transforming once again into a demon.

"My wounds have healed. Now, I'm going to—"

WHACK—Mo Hua waved a hand.

Before he could finish, Gu An and the others rushed forward.

Blades, fists, and swords came crashing down.

In less than a few dozen rounds, they had flattened Master She again, tying him up tightly with Spirit-Binding Chains and pinning him to the floor.

Mo Hua curled his lip.

"You're not the Fire Buddha. You just dabbled in some demonic tricks—what are you even bragging for, acting like some big-tailed wolf…"

He stepped forward coldly and said:

"I brought your offerings. The two kids are here. Didn't you say you needed sacrifices to pray to the River God and make a deal? Then hurry up and do it."

Yu Dahe's face had also gone tense.

Pinned to the floor, Master She's demonic disguise faded, revealing a pale human face as he sneered:

"Too late. They can't be saved. Just wait for death."

Mo Hua responded mildly:

"Brother An, go ahead and kill this old bastard."

Gu An hesitated, glancing to Mo Hua for confirmation.

Mo Hua nodded. "Kill him."

Without hesitation, Gu An raised his slaughter-blade and chopped toward Master She's neck.

The blade sank halfway in—slicing flesh and drawing a spray of blood.

Master She's face finally turned colorless in panic as he screamed:

"You're serious?!"

Mo Hua said nothing.

Gu An continued to press in, forcing the blade deeper toward the spine.

Master She's eyes bulged.

"It can be done! I can do it! I'll open the altar! I can still save the two children—just let me set up the altar!"

Mo Hua raised a brow.

"Really?"

"Really! Really!" Master She nodded furiously.

Mo Hua gave Gu An a look.

Gu An finally withdrew the blade, yanking it out—trailing blood behind.

Master She clutched his neck, secretly cursing in his heart:

This little bastard is ruthless as hell. Said he'd kill me and just straight-up did it…

Mo Hua's cold gaze fell on him:

"Are you cursing me in your heart?"

Master She trembled, instantly shook his head. "No! No, not at all!"

"Give him a hemostatic pill," Mo Hua ordered, then narrowed his eyes.

"I'm giving you one incense stick's time. Get that altar open. Pray to your River God, and retrieve the souls of those two kids.

If you fail—I'll have you chopped up and feed your corpse to the demons outside."

Master She hesitated. "One incense stick… not enough time…"

Mo Hua's stare turned dangerous.

Master She gave a bitter laugh.

"Really not enough. I have to open the altar, make offerings, and perform the prayer… One incense stick won't cut it…"

"How long?"

"At least… half an hour," he muttered.

"Fine." Mo Hua nodded.

"I'll give you half an hour."

Only then did Master She let out a sigh of relief.

"My storage ring…" he began, casting a glance at Mo Hua. But seeing Mo Hua's unfriendly expression, he quickly explained:

"The altar materials are all in the storage ring!"

Mo Hua thought it over, then turned to Gu An.

"Brother An, give him the ring—for now."

Gu An nodded and returned the ring to Master She temporarily.

Of course, all the demonic pills, forbidden techniques, and evil artifacts inside had already been confiscated.

Master She took the ring and began setting up the altar.

He laid out:

Fish demon heads, blood-soaked candles, human finger bones, and stained yellow talismans…

Everything reeked of evil and ancient heresy.

While setting the table, Master She kept sneaking glances at Mo Hua, cursing under his breath:

Damn it… I misjudged you.

Thought this brat was just some arrogant young master here to chase merit badges.

Didn't expect him to be a cold-blooded little devil king.

His neck throbbed from the wound.

A flicker of venom passed through Master She's eyes.

But he gritted his teeth and continued preparing the altar.

Meanwhile, Mo Hua took the chance to observe the entire River God Temple.

It looked spacious and dignified—but also strangely crude.

From the inside, it looked utterly ordinary, lacking the ominous, blood-mist-filled terror seen from outside.

It was as if all the carnage and ominous aura from earlier… were just illusions.

And most notably— There was no altar.

Mo Hua looked for a long while, but couldn't find a true altar—one that would stir a sense of "longing" within him.

Just like the one deep within the Bì Mountain Demonic Hall—an unfinished altar.

Here, there was only a single statue.

But this statue… it seemed like an ordinary god statue.

It didn't look like the River God's true idol, much less the kind of divine effigy used by an Evil God to preach its doctrine.

The only unusual thing was—this statue was actually soaking in a blood pool.

Mo Hua glanced down at the pool and found the blood within was thick and viscous—floating with dismembered limbs and dissolved flesh.

Just one look made Mo Hua feel nauseated.

"What's the purpose of this blood pool soaking the statue?"

To corrupt the River God with flesh and blood? To make it fall?

Mo Hua was perplexed.

He looked around again, scanning the entire River God Temple, and faintly got the sense—

As if someone had locked this place.

As if the temple's true secrets had been sealed, preventing him from seeing them.

Mo Hua silently glanced at Master She.

He had a gut feeling:

The key to unlocking the temple's secrets was very likely… on Master She.

But there was still another question: the Sword of Divine Sense.

Centuries ago, that sword cultivator skilled in divine-sense sword arts came here alone, and seemed to have fought the Evil God—leaving all those sword marks outside the temple.

And yet, all the causal lines from those sword marks were drawn toward the River God Temple.

But inside this temple—despite its weathered and shabby appearance—there were no signs of battle, nor any trace of divine-sense sword intent.

"So where is the cause and effect of that sword forged from divine sense?"

Hands behind his back, Mo Hua wandered quietly along the edges of the temple, scanning every corner—but still found no clues.

Eventually, his eyes fell once again… on Master She.

Master She shivered under Mo Hua's deep, unreadable gaze.

"Y-Young Master… is there… something wrong?"

He forced a stiff smile.

Mo Hua was silent for a moment, then suddenly asked:

"Is there a sword… in this temple?"

Master She was stunned inside, but quickly composed himself, masking his expression.

"What sword… are you referring to, Young Master?"

But even that flicker of emotional reaction couldn't escape Mo Hua's notice.

"You know," Mo Hua said plainly.

Master She's pupils trembled.

Before he could reply, Mo Hua's eyes lit up as he pieced things together aloud:

"So you know of this sword…"

"Then that means… you've seen it before…"

"And the sword must be inside this temple—in a place you've been, but I haven't…"

Mo Hua's gaze swept the surroundings and instantly landed on the answer:

"The blood pool!"

"In this entire River God Temple, the only place you've been that I haven't… is the blood pool."

"When we entered, you were soaking in it."

"So the sword… must be in the blood pool!"

His logic was razor-sharp. His gaze, sharper still.

Master She felt a chill run down his spine.

Too clever… It's like this kid was born with seven apertures to the heart—sharp, paranoid, like some ancient cunning monster…

Mo Hua gave the order:

"Go into the blood pool and fetch the sword for me."

Master She's lips trembled. He opened his mouth to speak—

But Mo Hua's voice cut in—crisp and ice-cold:

"I don't want to hear excuses."

Master She's scalp tingled. "I still need to perform the offering ritual, to save the—"

"The blood pool isn't deep. It won't take long," Mo Hua replied.

Seeing there was no weaseling out of this, Master She sighed:

"At the bottom of the blood pool, yes… there is indeed a sword being suppressed.

But… I don't know how to retrieve it…"

Mo Hua shook his head.

"Not my problem. Figure it out."

Master She wanted to object again, but the gleam in Mo Hua's eyes had already turned razor-sharp.

Feeling like he had a blade to his back, Master She could only sigh and step toward the pool.

Gu An and Gu Quan readied their blades, staring him down.

The blood pool was steeped in flesh and viscera—filthy and reeking.

For a normal cultivator, going in risked having their flesh corroded, their spiritual power tainted, even their divine sense corrupted.

But Master She was a demonic cultivator—none of that scared him.

He silently cursed Mo Hua a few more times in his head, then walked to the edge of the pool—next to the soaking god statue—and leapt in.

The blood churned, and foul auras rippled out.

A while later, Master She reluctantly surfaced—tossing a blood-soaked sword onto the ground.

Gu Quan took out a silk cloth, wiped the blood off, and handed the sword to Mo Hua.

Mo Hua took one look—and his pupils shrank.

It was a broken sword.

Only the tip remained.

The blade had been corroded by blood, and its luster was gone—but the material was extraordinary.

Mo Hua, though not skilled in weapon refinement, had some knowledge of materials.

The metal used to forge this sword… was at least Third Grade.

Which meant—

This was a broken fragment of a...

Golden Core–grade Lifebound Magical Treasure.

(End of this Chapter)