Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 1112: Ominous Sign

In the midst of blood-filled sorrow, anger, unwillingness, and desperate pleas, everything dispersed like a vanishing mist.

Mo Hua awoke, slowly opened his eyes, and frowned, falling into deep thought.

In the dream just now, the elder appeared with a face covered in blood and tears, his features blurred, but judging by his figure and voice, it must have been the Second Elder of the Demon Sect—the one who perished along with the Great Wilderness Dragon Palace.

It was this very Second Elder who had given him the clue to the "Twelve Meridians Gluttonous Spirit Remains Array."

At the time, he had indeed made a request:

That during the coming calamity, Mo Hua would preserve a sliver of the Great Wilderness bloodline.

Originally, Mo Hua had almost forgotten about this matter. But unexpectedly, upon returning home from the Qianxue State region, the already-deceased Second Elder appeared in his dreams, pleading sorrowfully…

But—

"Who exactly are the descendants of the Great Wilderness he was referring to?"

"Why is the Second Elder appearing in my dreams now? Has something changed?"

"The Great Wilderness faces annihilation, and the bloodline of its people is about to be severed…"

"Is this a warning from the Second Elder that something major is about to happen?"

"If I ignore this, then the promise I made to the Second Elder will never be fulfilled? And he will remain a restless spirit?"

Mo Hua's brow tightened further.

He had never truly taken the promise seriously.

Even if he broke his word, what could a mere dead Second Elder do to him?

Even if the Second Elder turned into a vengeful spirit, Mo Hua could crush him with a flick of his hand.

And yet, the Second Elder had indeed done him a great favor.

If not for his guidance, Mo Hua would never have obtained the 24-inscription Grade-Two life-bound array—the Twelve Meridians Gluttonous Spirit Remains Array.

Besides, he did seem to have agreed back then.

Both emotionally and logically, he ought to fulfill this promise—it was a karmic debt.

But how should he go about fulfilling it?

Mo Hua muttered to himself, "Do I… have to make a trip to the Great Wilderness?"

The royal family of the Great Wilderness should be located south of Lichou, in the heart of the Three Thousand Great Wilderness.

The Second Elder's dream visitation was clearly a sign that the Great Wilderness bloodline was facing a grave threat—one misstep could mean total annihilation, the end of a lineage.

But if the Great Wilderness really was facing a disaster of extinction, then it meant that region had become a land of great misfortune.

And where there is great misfortune, one should naturally stay far away.

To seek fortune and avoid calamity—this basic principle was something Mo Hua, having studied fate calculation, could not possibly be ignorant of.

The Great Wilderness… was a place he absolutely shouldn't go.

Mo Hua shook his head slightly.

The fate of the Great Wilderness was far too heavy a burden. As a Foundation Establishment cultivator, he simply wasn't capable of bearing it.

Right now, forming his Golden Core was far more important.

But… forming the Core…

Mo Hua paused, his gaze darkening as he sank into thought.

To form a Golden Core, he must forge his life-bound formation diagram.

And his chosen formation… was the Gluttonous Spirit Remains Array.

This array was an ancient forbidden array from the Great Wilderness.

At the moment, he still lacked the ability to learn it. He didn't even know if it concealed secrets unknown to the world.

If it did contain hidden knowledge, those secrets would only be found within the Great Wilderness royal family.

If the Great Wilderness truly was wiped out, it would mean those secrets would be forever sealed… or even completely lost.

He would never be able to fully comprehend the Twelve Meridians Gluttonous Spirit Remains Array—let alone refine it into his life-bound array.

Mo Hua's gaze sharpened slightly.

It was merely a guess, but a highly probable one.

Even if there was just a sliver of chance, he didn't dare gamble.

Because if those secrets died with the Great Wilderness, then he might never be able to form his Golden Core.

Or worse, he would have to settle for some lower-grade formation as a substitute.

But such a compromise… was unacceptable.

Once you've glimpsed the ocean, no other waters compare.

He had a 24-inscription supreme formation in his hands—how could he degrade himself by choosing something lesser?

"Could this be the Second Elder's plan all along?"

Mo Hua mused, "If I gain this supreme formation and don't study it, it's fine. But once I do… and try to refine it into a life-bound treasure, I'll be forced to head to the Great Wilderness—and naturally, fulfill the promise I made to him?"

"That Second Elder…"

His gaze turned cold. After a moment of thought, he sighed lightly.

Though the Second Elder's little schemes annoyed him somewhat, upon reflection—what other option did a man doomed to death have? This was his one and only chance.

Devoted to the Great Wilderness to the very end. Even knowing he would perish, he remained unwavering.

Putting aside personal bias, Mo Hua truly respected such a person.

And if this supreme formation was a kind of "bait," then it was bait Mo Hua had willingly taken.

Sometimes, gaining benefits means taking on responsibility.

Where there is "cause," one must also bear the resulting "effect."

Such was the law of karmic fate.

"Now that things have come to this… I'll go to the Great Wilderness."

After pondering for a moment and calculating his destiny and karmic ties, Mo Hua finally nodded slowly, making up his mind:

"Head to the Great Wilderness. Refine the Gluttonous Array. Seek the opportunity to form the Core."

With this decision, he exhaled a long breath.

Though a trace of hesitation and reluctance lingered, his heart suddenly felt much clearer—at least his path was now clear.

And yet, one mystery still gnawed at him:

"The extinction-level calamity that the Second Elder fears… just what could it be?"

Mo Hua's gaze grew solemn.

At this moment, in the far-off borders of Qianxue State—

In a remote, desolate forest seldom visited by man,

A middle-aged cultivator, dressed like a scholar, walked alone and slowly.

This cultivator had refined features and a scholarly air. If Mo Hua had seen him, he would've been deeply shocked.

For this man was none other than Elder Shen Xiuyan of the Shen family—whom Mo Hua had once encountered in the Southern Peak City of Lichou.

But now, something was strange about Shen Xiuyan. His movements were stiff and unnatural. At first glance, it seemed nothing unusual, but a closer look would reveal that each step he took was uneven—one shallow, one deep.

His eyes were also dazed, staring blankly ahead.

Shen Xiuyan walked through the deathly still forest like a puppet on strings.

No one guided him, yet he seemed to know exactly where he was going.

Or rather… something was calling to him.

No one knew how long he walked.

Eventually, Shen Xiuyan arrived at a stone wall.

He reached out with dazed eyes and began rubbing the wall—grinding his fingertips until they were torn and bloody, down to white bone.

Then he dipped the bone into his own blood and began drawing a blood-colored formation on the wall.

This was a formation utterly beyond ordinary comprehension—each pattern looked like a howling ghost face, shrieking in eerie agony.

Once complete, the stone wall dissolved—revealing a pitch-black cave.

Shen Xiuyan stepped into the cave.

It was utterly dark—no light, no fire—yet he could navigate with ease.

He walked deeper and deeper… until the tunnel reached its end.

And at the end of the darkness, a bloody glow shimmered faintly.

Beneath that bloodlight… lay a sealed, dust-covered altar.

Under the shroud of bloodlight stood a long-sealed altar.

After the catastrophe of the Qianxue Blood Sacrifice, all demonic cultivator caverns and altars to evil gods across the Qianxue Province and its surrounding regions had been thoroughly destroyed.

The altar before him, hidden deep in the darkness, was the only one that survived the Dao Court's purge.

The blackness in Shen Xiuyan's eyes grew increasingly intense.

Kneeling before the altar, he bit open each of his ten fingers one by one, then began drawing strange symbols in front of the altar.

The blood-red formation lines, shaped like long serpents, flowed into the altar.

In the darkness, the blood hue deepened, exuding an eerie glow.

It was as if something had been "awakened." From beneath the altar came the sound of squirming flesh—something was hatching.

After completing all this, Shen Xiuyan ignored everything that followed. He turned stiffly and left the altar.

As he departed, the blackness in his eyes grew darker, and his limbs increasingly twisted.

His footsteps grew uneven, one deep, one shallow.

"Who am I?"

"Who... am I?"

"I..."

Shen Xiuyan muttered hoarsely, as though he had forgotten everything—even who he was.

Jet-black sinister patterns began to spread outward, covering his flesh and crawling across his face.

"I am... Gui (Sinister)..."

Just as the word "Gui" left his lips, everything changed again.

The pitch-black, once-lifeless sinister markings suddenly seemed to come alive. In an instant, they sank into Shen Xiuyan's skin and vanished.

In the blink of an eye, the previously dazed Shen Xiuyan regained clarity.

He looked around. His expression shifted drastically, his heart filled with terror:

"Where... am I? What was I doing? What... have I done?"

But there was no one around him, and no answers—only the deathly silence of the night.

"I can't stay here…"

Panic rose in Shen Xiuyan's heart. He immediately fled.

Though he didn't know where he was, the path he had taken to get there seemed vaguely etched into his memory.

Though he was fleeing in confusion, somehow he took the correct route.

Just like that, Shen Xiuyan left the forested mountain and, raising his head, saw a carriage by the roadside.

The area was deserted. That carriage seemed to be the one he had come in—but he had no memory of it.

Yet at this point, Shen Xiuyan couldn't afford to care. Without hesitation, he got on the carriage and fled this nightmare-like forest in a panic.

By now, he could no longer tell dream from reality.

What felt like a dream might be real.

What felt like reality might be a dream.

He often found himself drifting between sleep and wakefulness.

This had only occurred rarely in the past, but ever since the Qianxue Blood Sacrifice, it was happening more and more frequently.

Shen Xiuyan drove the carriage swiftly along the mountain road. After leaving the desolate hills and traveling dozens of miles, the scenery gradually became familiar. He finally found his way back to his sect.

He was an elder of the Little Spirit Sect, one of the hundred sects of Qianxue.

As an elder, he was responsible for sect affairs.

If he were to slack off or neglect his duties, he would be punished by the sect.

Returning to the sect, Shen Xiuyan discovered that it happened to be a rest period—the disciples were on break, and he, as an elder, had no teaching duties. He finally let out a sigh of relief.

He entered the sect gates, crossed the long steps, and returned straight to his elder's residence. Locking the doors and windows, sealing the formation array, he completely isolated himself. Only in the absolute silence around him did he finally feel at ease.

But what followed was a torrent of terrifying questions:

Where did I go?

What did I do there?

What... is wrong with me?

I...

The more he thought, the more confused he became. His sea of consciousness throbbed in pain, a chill spread from his heart, and soon, everything went black before his eyes. His head grew heavy, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep.

And once again, he dreamed.

It was a dream he had often had for a long time.

In the dream, he was once more in that broken-down temple, staying there with Old Man Wen and Young Master Yun.

Across from them sat a kind-looking child and a Daoist shrouded in black mist.

The child was roasting sweet potatoes using a formation, mouthing silent warnings—urging him to leave quickly.

Shen Xiuyan wanted to go, but in the dream, he could not control his body.

He couldn't move.

Just then, he saw the Daoist slowly rise, wrapped in dark mist, walking toward him step by step.

Shen Xiuyan was gripped by overwhelming terror.

He knew who that Daoist was.

And he knew that if the Daoist reached him, something unimaginably horrific would occur.

Shen Xiuyan began struggling with all his might.

At the same time, he recited incantations he had learned from other high-level cultivators—chants to exorcise evil, ward off spirits, suppress nightmares, and banish demons.

He had no idea whether they would work.

But the Daoist's pace did indeed slow. Even the dark mist began to contract, seeming to gain some intelligence, condensing together.

"It's working?"

Shen Xiuyan was overjoyed. He poured every ounce of his spiritual will into chanting the incantations to suppress the nightmare.

As he chanted, the heavy pressure in his heart lifted inexplicably.

The nightmare cleared somewhat.

The darkness in the temple receded.

The dim firelight grew brighter.

Shen Xiuyan felt a great weight lifted from his chest. Looking up, he saw the Daoist was no longer there.

The child roasting sweet potatoes no longer urged him to leave, but simply stared silently at him with a pair of clear, black eyes.

"This calamity... has passed…"

Shen Xiuyan let out a long breath and managed a faint, strained smile.

He had a vague premonition—perhaps he would no longer be tormented by this nightmare.

But what he didn't notice was that the child wasn't silent out of relief—but out of fear.

The child was looking behind him.

Behind Shen Xiuyan stood a living Daoist—no longer shrouded in black mist.

...

Three days later.

At that remote, desolate altar Shen Xiuyan had visited, the blood markings remained vivid, the stone cracked open—

And a lump of flesh and blood emerged.

Three days later.

At the remote altar that Shen Xiuyan had once visited, blood patterns glowed bright red, and the bricks split open as a mass of flesh and blood emerged.

The flesh mass coalesced and took on a humanoid demonic form.

This demonic figure was pale all over, bearing a striking resemblance to the former "Mr. Tu."

At this moment, its throat and teeth wriggled as it uttered words in a hoarse, terrifying voice:

"Who... released the seal on the third demonic body of mine?"

"Who let me out?"

"Mr. Tu" had no idea. As he remained puzzled, a tremendous sense of danger suddenly surged in his heart. He panicked and thought:

"No! I must escape!"

Without the overwhelming evil will of the Divine Master to conceal him, his presence had long been exposed to the divination vision of numerous great powers.

The moment he showed himself, he would be erased instantly.

"Mr. Tu" dared not hesitate any further. His pale demonic body instantly transformed into a streak of blood light, drilling into the earth and fleeing southward along the lingering blood energy in the earth veins, heading out of the Qianxue State.

Meanwhile—

In the Sword-Watching Pavilion,

An elder sitting opposite a chessboard, eyes closed in repose, slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was terrifyingly deep.

"Still... a fish that slipped through the net..."

The elder extended a withered finger, picked up a chess piece, and heavily placed it on the board—killing intent surging in all directions.

Destiny locked on, illusion and reality interchanged, and space began to distort.

Within the earth veins, "Mr. Tu," who was desperately fleeing, was instantly locked in by destiny. Then, as the void shattered and space twisted, all his bones and flesh were crushed, twisted, drained dry—and obliterated.

It all happened in an instant.

And at the very moment when "Mr. Tu" was about to be annihilated—right at the edge of life and death—

He gritted his teeth and activated his final Great Wilderness evil technique, burning all his divine consciousness to block a sliver of destiny. Then, gathering his full cultivation, he separated a thread of flesh and blood.

Under the terrifying killing intent of the elder's casual gesture from thousands of miles away, he forcefully carved out a sliver of survival.

"Mr. Tu's" demonic body was obliterated in that instant.

But that thread of flesh and blood managed to escape from the void's prison.

In the Sword-Watching Pavilion, the elder was slightly surprised and placed a second piece.

If one move couldn't kill, then make a second.

This second move was a sure-kill. "Mr. Tu" wouldn't be able to resist it.

But just at that moment, within the void, illusion turned to reality—a strange pattern manifested and, across space, shielded the remaining sliver of "Mr. Tu."

Though in the next moment, the strange pattern was crushed by the elder's second move—

That brief protection granted "Mr. Tu" a new chance at life.

Taking advantage of the strange pattern's concealment, he fled deeper into the earth veins. He had already left the fifth-grade Qianxue territory and burrowed into the second or third-grade states, heading farther from Qian State, fleeing toward Li State.

This was a carefully laid escape route he had planned over a thousand years ago.

If the grand formation succeeded, the Divine Master descended, and their great plan came to fruition—then this fallback would be meaningless.

But if the plan failed, and he faced mortal danger, this third demonic body would follow the pre-planned path to escape Qianxue as quickly as possible—

To preserve a sliver of life for himself,

And to leave behind a seed for the Divine Master's great plan.

But the problem was—his previous demonic body had died too thoroughly. It had been completely erased by heavenly tribulation, not even leaving ash.

Thus, this backup body had been unable to activate.

And now, for reasons unknown, someone had found the altar, undone the seal, and released it.

"Mr. Tu" was deeply shocked and confused.

But with death looming, he had no time to think. Even if only a sliver of flesh remained after the erasure—

To serve the Divine Master, to rise again, he could only flee with all his might in search of the tiniest hope for life.

And the elder's killing intent had been interrupted for a moment.

But in that single moment, fate shifted, and the outcome of life or death changed.

A sliver of flesh, hidden in the earth veins, slipped out of Qianxue territory and drifted toward the vast, distant lands—vanishing within the threads of destiny like a stone sinking into the sea.

At the Sword-Watching Pavilion,

The strange pattern that had distorted reality momentarily blocked the elder.

He sat still, momentarily dazed.

Silently staring at the chess piece between his fingers, his deep eyes grew more solemn, and his expression turned increasingly grim. At last, he spoke in a chilling tone:

"Using trickery to break the void... do you intend... for the Divine Incarnation to take form and defy all law?"

(End of the Chapter)