Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 708: Incense and Divinity

By the banks of the Yanshui River.

Mo Hua and the "young master" within the black mist had only exchanged a single glance.

Then, the ornate flower boat drifted back into the dark night, gradually vanishing from sight.

Mo Hua's gaze was deep. He quietly memorized that pair of eyes before turning and continuing along the riverbank, beginning his journey back to the sect.

The road back was peaceful and uneventful.

Half a day later, Mo Hua returned to the sect and first reported to Elder Song, who was in charge of attendance, explaining everything.

To Mo Hua's surprise, Elder Song—usually rather inflexible—was unexpectedly pleasant this time, even seeming a bit proud of him.

It was as if Mo Hua's request for leave had brought him great honor.

Mo Hua was a little confused.

After bidding farewell to Elder Song, he went to pay his respects to Elder Xun.

Mo Hua knew clearly that it was only because of Elder Xun's influence that Elder Song had been so tolerant.

Other disciples wouldn't even qualify to ask for such a lengthy leave.

In the central hall, Elder Xun appeared busy with something important. His expression was serious. When he saw Mo Hua, he only asked a few simple questions. Preoccupied, he didn't speak much further, though the look in his eyes deepened slightly, as if lost in thought.

Mo Hua felt a little puzzled as well, but seeing Elder Xun clearly had important matters to handle, he didn't press further and respectfully said:

"Elder, this disciple will take his leave."

Elder Xun nodded and gave his usual reminder: "Cultivate well. Study formations with focus. Keep your mind undistracted."

"Yes."

Mo Hua replied solemnly, bowed, and left.

Elder Xun stared toward the direction Mo Hua departed in, frowning deeply for a long while before collecting his thoughts.

Mo Hua's matters... could wait until he had time.

For now, there were more urgent concerns.

Elder Xun lowered his gaze to the table.

On it lay a Heaven's Secrets Compass, a geographic map, and a jade slip.

The Heaven's Secrets Compass could peer into karma.

The map displayed a vast spiritual ore mountain range, winding and sprawling across Qianxue Prefecture and neighboring regions—like a massive dragon formed of spiritual power.

Four characters were inscribed on the map:

"Qianlong Mountain Range."

The jade slip detailed the rankings of the sects within Qianxue Prefecture: the Four Great Sects, Eight Great Schools, Twelve Lineages, and the Hundred Sect Rankings.

These rankings were determined by the Dao Discourse Gatherings, especially the most prestigious and grand—the Sword Discourse Gathering of Qianzhou.

This compass could reveal karmic ties of past lives.

This jade slip and this map could decide a sect's name and fortune.

The future fate of the Great Void Sect rested upon these three things.

But now, the Heaven's Secrets Compass could not pierce the fog. The karmic path was uncertain, and the future was unpredictable.

And the other two... might also meet with trouble.

Heaven is ever-changing.

Elder Xun looked out the window.

Outside, Mount Taixu (Great Void Mountain) stood as always—ancient and tranquil, its pavilions nestled amidst verdant forests.

Disciples quietly cultivated; elders lectured and guided.

Wisps of mist drifted through the mountains.

All appeared calm and peaceful. Time itself seemed still and harmonious.

But in the shadows, a surge of turbulent undercurrents had likely already begun.

People suffer fortune and misfortune; sects rise and fall.

One is born in hardship, dies in comfort.

If one does not prepare and plan ahead, the crisis of a sect's survival may seem distant—but in the blink of an eye, it could arrive right at their doorstep.

A faint sense of crisis already lingered in Elder Xun's heart.

Outside the Great Void Sect, killing intent loomed.

"But... where does this trace of murderous intent come from?"

"How should our Great Void Sect break this deadlock? How do we seize a sliver of survival from a treacherous world filled with evil and desire?"

Elder Xun gazed at the long-standing and prestigious Great Void Sect. His brows furrowed tighter, his aged face grave as a mountain.

Qianzhou – a forbidden land.

In a gloomy chamber...

Mr. Tu's expression was frighteningly dark.

On the altar, beneath a pile of massive bones, an eerie green flame flickered, casting a ghastly glow on his face, making him look like a monstrous specter—ferocious and terrifying.

His voice carried both fury and deep fear.

"The River God has vanished..."

"The divine incarnation of the Lord is gone."

"The altar has been destroyed."

"The bloody fishing village... was completely unearthed and overturned by someone…"

"The Lord's agents have also been captured…"

A terrifying divine wrath descended, filling the chamber with a horrifying storm of fury and demonic intent.

Mr. Tu fell to the ground in prostration, gritting his teeth so hard that blood oozed from between them.

His limbs twisted slightly under pressure, cold sweat pouring from his forehead. His voice trembled.

"Lord... please forgive me…"

"I already have a lead… I…"

Blood sprayed from his mouth. He couldn't even finish speaking.

The violent divine intent slowly faded. The punishment lessened. Mr. Tu coughed up more blood before he could continue:

"It's... the Great Void Sect…"

"In Qianzhou, the arts of Heaven's Secrets have declined. Divine-path formations are nearly extinct. Some of the old powers—either greedy for fame and fortune, or obsessed with self-preservation—"

"...weaken the weak to feign prosperity, indulge desire and abandon discipline, and so, the path of divine intent has fallen into great decline."

"Only the Great Void Sect retains remnants of the legacy of Divine Intent Sword Dao."

"The Great Void Sect..."

Mr. Tu's gaze turned distant. "Hundreds of years ago, it was the same. When the River God Temple was newly built and just began its rituals, it was discovered by a genius Golden Core sword cultivator from the Great Void Sect."

"That person had cultivated a method to transform divine intent into sword intent. His sword path was nearly complete. He almost—"

Mr. Tu's eyes revealed fear, "—just barely failed to destroy the embryonic form of the Divine Lord's avatar and the River God altar, which would've ruined a century of my planning."

"At the last critical moment, it was the Divine Lord who manifested divine power, crushed that man's Dao Heart, and shattered his natal sword."

"But the River God Temple incident still planted a karmic seed."

"Now, after hundreds of years, the temple has once again been uncovered. But this time is different. The one responsible acted in extreme secrecy, with meticulous planning, leaving no trace."

"And the strength of his divine intent... is terrifying."

"His divine-intent-based killing methods... are unspeakably brutal…"

"The River God who presided over the region, and even the Lord's immortal avatar—both have been…"

Mr. Tu's heart trembled. He dared not continue.

He could feel the Lord's divine consciousness grow colder and more dreadful in the chamber—but it showed no blame toward him.

Only then did Mr. Tu dare to open his mouth again:

"This is no coincidence!"

"Hundreds of years ago, it was a sword cultivator from the Great Void Sect who stormed into the River God Temple. And now, centuries later, the nightmare is shattered, the River God Temple completely destroyed—this karmic cause and effect… most likely still falls upon the Great Void Sect!"

A cold glint flashed in Mr. Tu's eyes.

"To be able to locate the entrance to the fishing village… to safely reach the River God Temple… to open the altar and enter the Divine Lord's nightmare… to slaughter countless nightmare-born demons… and even dare to commit the ultimate taboo…"

To slay the River God and the avatar of the Divine Lord...

Mr. Tu paused slightly, then continued:

"…this person is, in all likelihood, a master of the sword from the Great Void Sect in recent years—perhaps even one of those reclusive monsters hidden deep within the rear mountains…"

"They seek to avenge the fallen sword genius of centuries past, whose Dao was broken and sword shattered!"

"Even if they're not a direct heir of the Great Void Sect, they must be closely tied to it. They cultivate the method of transforming divine intent into sword, walking the path of sword-Divine unity."

"And it may not just be the Great Void Sect…"

Mr. Tu trembled inwardly, as though recalling an ancient, immense, and taboo inheritance of a three-path converging sword art. Terror flickered in his eyes.

"The Tai'e Divine-Forging Sword… The Chongxu Manifested Sword Qi… The Great Void Intent-Transforming Sword…"

With each phrase, Mr. Tu grew more frightened. By the end, his body trembled, his limbs slightly quaking from being infused with sword intent—he dared not recite further.

At last, Mr. Tu bowed in reverence before the grotesque white bone sculpture of a horned beast.

"The Great Void Sect is the root of rebellion."

"Gu Changhuai, and the Gu Clan, are but lackeys aiding the enemy."

"The plan must be advanced…"

"Sects destined to decline shall fall; lineages fated to perish shall be extinguished. Those who dare obstruct the Divine Lord's grand plan… shall be doomed to eternal damnation!"

"The path of flesh and blood has already been paved. The evil cattle for sacrifice are being raised. The Divine Lord's grand design is irreversible. His descent… is imminent."

And the bloodline of the Great Wilderness… shall once again see the light of day.

Mr. Tu kowtowed to the ground, his eyes bleeding and tearing, filled with fanatic devotion.

Several days later – Small Fishing Village

After Mo Hua and the others left, the Dao Court Division sent personnel to handle the aftermath. Following Mo Hua's instructions, all items related to the evil god were completely destroyed.

Gu Changhuai even made an exception, registering all the village's fishing cultivators officially under a nearby second-grade immortal city.

This way, if anything happened, the Dao Court Division would offer them some protection.

The Gu Clan also gave notice to the nearby major and minor families, forbidding any exploitation or oppression of the village's cultivators.

As a result, life in the small fishing village improved.

Only occasionally, during idle moments while fishing, would they recall some lingering fragments of nightmare.

"Strangely enough, I used to have nightmares every few nights… dreaming of drowning while fishing, or getting eaten by water demons. I'd wake up drenched in cold sweat—my whole back soaked…"

"I dreamt I starved to death… woke up even hungrier!"

"My boat flipped in a storm, water demons fought over who would eat me. It still hurts when I think about it…"

Someone sighed:

"Same here. I dreamt the wife I worked myself to the bone to marry was stolen away by someone else…"

The others gave him strange looks before one blurted:

"Wait—you don't even have a wife?"

The fishing cultivator scowled:

"It was a dream, okay? A dream! Why are you taking it seriously?"

"Dream might've been fake—but the pain was real!"

Everyone went silent, unable to argue with that.

Then someone suddenly looked solemn and muttered with a hint of lingering fear:

"I had an even scarier one…"

Seeing all eyes turn toward him, he swallowed hard. His expression was panicked, clearly still haunted:

"I dreamt of a giant fish monster… its head the size of a temple, whiskers thick as trees, dripping with blood, and covered in white fangs… terrifying beyond belief. It was devouring people left and right—I nearly got eaten…"

Several people's expressions changed upon hearing this.

"What's wrong?"

"That fish monster… I dreamt of it too…"

"Same here! It was so terrifying I didn't dare say a word."

"Me too. I was afraid mentioning it would bring disaster, so I stayed quiet…"

"Dreams are blurry between real and false. Who knows whether that thing actually exists? But if it does, and it hears we talked about it… we're doomed."

"Didn't it die? What's there to be afraid of?"

"Don't be ridiculous—how do you know it's dead?"

"I saw it in my dream! Died right there!"

"Well, I didn't see it die."

"I did…"

Everyone started arguing. Some said they saw it die, others didn't—there was no agreement.

One person gave a smug snort and declared dramatically:

"You lot didn't stick around long enough, that's why."

"But I did! I saw it with my own eyes! That blood-drenched fish monster was still grabbing people to eat—when suddenly, a flash of golden light streaked across the sky. A radiant little immortal soared down from the air, holding a brilliant golden sword!"

"That fish monster looked terrifying—waves of blood crashing everywhere—but it didn't stand a chance against that little immortal!"

"In just a few rounds, the terrifying beast was defeated!"

"Then that little immortal pinned its head to the altar, raised his sword, and shing—a single slash, golden light blazing, chopped that fish monster's head clean off!"

As he finished, he shook his head with a sigh, clearly shaken.

Those fishing cultivators who hadn't seen the monster's death all gasped in awe.

"What a majestic little immortal!"

"Such divine power!"

"Divine powers beyond measure!"

Someone couldn't help but ask,

"Why is that little immortal so small? Can't he grow up?"

"How would I know… What do I understand about immortals?"

"Maybe his cultivation isn't complete yet."

"So young and already that powerful… If he grows up, won't he be unstoppable?"

"Naturally!"

"So… where did that little immortal go?"

Everyone looked at each other and shook their heads.

"He vanished after slaying the river monster. Immortals come and go without a trace—who could possibly know where he went?"

"But… are we sure he's really an immortal?"

"He entered our dreams and slew the river demon—if that's not an immortal, what is? You ever seen a real immortal?"

"No… never have."

"Exactly then."

As they chatted, someone suddenly lowered their voice and said mysteriously:

"I think all those nightmares and the recent misfortunes we've had—it's all probably connected to that blood-red fish monster."

Everyone paused, then nodded.

"Makes sense…"

"So if that fish monster comes back… what do we do?"

"Kill it."

"Kill it? You kill it?"

"I definitely can't…"

"So we ask the little immortal again?"

"He already helped us once by slaying the river monster—we received his grace for nothing. Why would he help again for no reason?"

"Yeah… true."

"Then how about," someone suggested, "we offer incense and pay respects to this little immortal?"

Everyone froze for a moment, then began to seriously consider it.

That same person continued,

"Think about it—we don't burn incense daily, but only pray last-minute? That won't do. The little immortal can't be expected to protect us for free, all the time."

"But if we pay our respects regularly, offer incense daily, then when demons or evil spirits show up again, and he helps us with one sword strike to cut through the evil—it'd only be fair, right?"

The village cultivators suddenly had a moment of clarity and nodded.

"That makes sense…"

"This aligns with the laws of cause and effect."

"We should make offerings regardless. After all, we did receive a great favor from the little immortal. Worshipping him brings peace of mind."

The river's waves were wild, life and death often just a thread apart.

These fishing cultivators lived in constant fear and danger. Almost instinctively, they always desired something—or someone—to pray to. Some presence in the dark to bring them peace.

Even if there was no real protection, it gave them comfort.

So the villagers discussed and agreed to build a small shrine behind the village, set against a cliff face.

Though they called it a "shrine to an immortal," it was really more like a small altar.

They carved into the stone wall, hollowed out a small nook, set up a modest offering table, placed some fruits and tributes, and in the center enshrined a little clay statue.

The statue was crafted by Old Yu.

In his youth, he had traveled a bit and seen the world.

He'd seen many shrines, stone statues, and clay figures worshipped in various temples—so this was finally a chance to put that experience to use.

After forming the body, when it came time to sculpt the face, Old Yu scratched his head and asked:

"What did that little immortal even look like?"

Because he had raised blood-fish and his faith had been heavily drained, his divine sense was weaker than the others.

During the dream, he'd fainted early on and hadn't seen the part where the golden little immortal appeared, sword in hand, and slew the river monster.

"He was glowing all over, couldn't see his face clearly..." someone said.

"Go ask around—maybe someone got a good look," Old Yu replied.

But after asking all around, everyone shook their heads.

Someone finally said,

"Uncle Yu, just sculpt it however you want. It's the meaning that counts—it's not like a clay statue has to be his actual face."

Everyone chimed in:

"Yeah, exactly."

Old Yu thought about it and nodded.

A little immortal who had done so much for their small fishing village…

Somehow, Mo Hua's face floated into his mind.

The more Old Yu thought about it, the more fitting it seemed.

If there really was such a little immortal, surely he would look like Young Master Mo.

Handsome, gentle, with eyes that sparkled like stars, a peaceful demeanor hiding a noble spirit… and a righteous heart that despised evil.

So Old Yu sculpted the statue to resemble Mo Hua—a small, dignified figure seated upright with a golden sword on his back.

His craftsmanship wasn't great, and the result only bore about fifty to sixty percent resemblance.

But the eyebrows and eyes—those were vivid, brimming with spirit, and held an uncanny 80-90% likeness to Mo Hua.

Once complete, the statue was placed inside the shrine.

From then on, whenever it was cloudy, rainy, a poor fishing season, or nightmares began haunting them again—any hint of demonic disturbance—the village cultivators would come to the shrine and burn a stick of incense, offering prayer to the little immortal with the golden sword.

Amid the curling incense smoke, none of them noticed a small, weak silver fish quietly swimming into the tiny shrine, hiding behind the awe-inspiring statue of the little immortal.

It gently absorbed the incense offering made to Mo Hua, bit by bit, to restore its divine-sense-born body.

(End of Chapter)