Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 1115: Killing Intent

However, the kind of evil spirit that could truly satisfy him wasn't some common trash found on the streets. Finding one would no doubt be quite the challenge.

Mo Hua suddenly found himself reminiscing about the Qianxue Province.

Back then, Mister Tu was still alive. The Evil God of the Great Wilderness hadn't awakened yet. The blood sacrifice array hadn't been activated. Altars were everywhere.

Each altar was enough to feed him for a while. At that time, even reaching twenty-four patterns would have been easily attainable.

Now, the True Embryo was captured, Mister Tu was dead, the grand array had collapsed. Though the crisis was resolved, all the altars were gone too.

No wonder the ancients often said that one must act with a steady hand; killing the chicken to get the egg is unwise.

And now, even the "egg" from that slaughter has been hoarded by that stingy Pixiu—Mo Hua can't even get a few bites for himself.

Mo Hua let out a light sigh.

Now that he had left Qianxue Province, where could he find another place that allowed his divine sense to feast like that, devouring vast amounts of essence?

After all, that was Mister Tu's painstaking foundation, built over hundreds or even thousands of years.

Mo Hua sighed for a moment, then composed himself and continued his journey.

"The road is still long. Who knows what I'll encounter next? I'll just see as I go..."

Following his planned route, Mo Hua continued heading south.

His movement was like flowing water, swift and fluid. After nearly half a month of travel, he finally left the territory of Great Black Mountain Province.

The surrounding peaks grew shorter, the demonic aura thinned, and everything appeared more desolate. The deep, eerie presence of Great Black Mountain was gone.

This was a neighboring second-tier minor province, called Little Realm Gathering Province (Jieji).

The name "Jieji" wasn't a proper noun—it simply referred to a gathering of cultivators on the border of provinces.

It meant that this place never truly had a formed province. There were very few immortal cities, just clusters of cultivators who settled along the borders of various regions, hence the vague name "Jieji" (Realm Gathering) to refer to it.

Just as Mo Hua stepped into this Little Realm Gathering Province, killing intent rose in his eyes.

A wave of murderous desire surged in his heart once more.

Mo Hua furrowed his brow, his mood turning irritable.

"Is the killing aura rebounding again?"

Was it because he had left the Great Black Mountain Province and lost the protection of merit, causing his fate to destabilize?

Or was it because he had drifted too far from "home," his anchor to humanity lost, and thus the bloodlust grew stronger?

Helpless, Mo Hua could only forcefully suppress the urge to kill and stabilize his mind.

At the same time, he imitated the training methods of the Seven Soul Eye Technique—taking his home, his parents, as the anchors of his humanity—engraving them into his divine soul to resist the backlash of the killing aura on his mind.

Still, his heart felt heavy.

The influence of the Life Fiend fate star was even more severe than he had expected.

If he didn't find a way to restrain or resolve it soon, he truly didn't know what kind of person he would become in the future...

Mo Hua shook his head. Once the killing aura subsided, he continued on his way, traversing the Little Realm Gathering Province.

He traveled dozens of miles through nothing but barren mountains, wilderness, and dilapidated villages.

This province was extremely poor, with very few immortal cities.

Most rogue cultivators here lived in mountain villages or rural settlements.

Along the way, all that Mo Hua saw were impoverished, struggling rogue cultivators.

Far poorer than he had anticipated.

Sallow skin, timid eyes, tattered clothes that barely covered their bodies, empty stomachs—some of the children passing by were so thin they looked like skin wrapped around bones.

Mo Hua had grown used to the opulence of Qianxue Province, where noble clans stood tall, and life was lavish.

He had seen Immortal City—its people thriving, a place full of life and cultivation opportunities.

Now, faced with these skeletal, poverty-stricken cultivators, a strong sense of unreality welled up in him.

Unfortunately, this place was remote and cut off.

There were no nearby towns, no cultivated spirit fields, no medicinal herbs for alchemy, no ores for crafting—there weren't even many demon beasts…

It was truly destitute. Even Mo Hua didn't know how to help them.

Heavy-hearted, he continued on, passing through five or six villages over the course of half a day, all more or less the same.

Eventually, he reached a fork in the road.

In front of him, the forest was thick, the brush sparse. On a rugged mountain slope, three narrow mountain paths branched off into the distance.

Mo Hua couldn't tell which one to take.

Though his divine sense was powerful, even a Golden Core cultivator's divine sense had its limits—it couldn't possibly cover an entire mountain range.

He had no choice but to ask for directions.

To the left of the fork was a small mountain village.

Mo Hua entered. Though he wore a dust-covered gray robe, his clear eyes and jade-like features left the gathered cultivators stunned and speechless.

He bowed politely. "Pardon the intrusion. I've come to ask for a drink of water and directions."

No one dared to reply.

Two children ran toward the back of the village.

Moments later, a frail old man, leaning on a cane, emerged from behind the village, tottering toward Mo Hua.

He bowed and said tremblingly:

"Young master, forgive us for not welcoming you properly. Please, this way."

Mo Hua nodded and followed the old man into a shabby thatched hut.

The old man pointed to a worn porcelain teacup on the table and said hoarsely, "Wild tea from the mountains. I hope young master won't mind."

Mo Hua glanced at it—it was indeed wild tea from the hills. He took a sip. Very bitter. The astringency lingered at the root of his tongue.

"Young master, from where do you come, and where are you headed?" the old man asked.

Mo Hua replied, "I've come from Immortal City, heading toward the Great Wilderness south of Liyu Province."

The old man was shocked. "Immortal City lies beyond Great Black Mountain—home to terrifying demon beasts. And the Great Wilderness to the south is thousands of miles away, full of danger… Young master, you're traveling alone?"

Mo Hua nodded. "I journey for enlightenment and the Dao."

The old man looked on with solemn respect. "Is there anything this old man can do to help you?"

Mo Hua asked, "The mountain path ahead splits into three. Do you know where each leads?"

The old man sighed lightly. "I'm ashamed to say, I've lived more than a hundred and fifty years in these wild mountains, never traveled far. I don't truly know where those roads lead. But I've heard passing traders say…"

He pointed and explained:

"The left path leads to Southern Yue. If you keep going, you'll reach the Liyu Mountain Province…"

"The middle path leads to the only third-tier province in the region—Blue Wolf Province…"

"The right path is a wilderness road. Eight hundred miles of desolate mountains, uninhabited. Very few take it…"

"This is just what I've heard from traveling merchants. But they all say the same, so it's probably accurate."

Mo Hua cupped his hands. "Thank you, Elder."

Having asked what he needed, Mo Hua did not linger and prepared to leave.

The old man sighed and said with embarrassment:

"As the young master has come from afar, we should've hosted you with a meal and tea. But alas…"

His face turned bitter. "Alas, this land is poor. We've little to eat—only some bitter wild plants to stave off hunger. If we offered those, I fear we'd only shame ourselves before you."

These mountain cultivators, though impoverished, were honest and sincere.

Mo Hua cupped his hands again with a smile. "Please don't worry, Elder. The journey is long and time is short. I should be on my way and not trouble you further."

Mo Hua left the thatched hut, and the old man tottered after to see him off.

At the village entrance, a few villagers were using thorny brambles to build a fence, encircling the outskirts of the village.

Mo Hua asked, "Are these brambles to guard against demon beasts?"

The old man nodded. "Yes, to keep out small cat or dog demons that might snatch children—and also to fend off mountain bandits."

"Mountain bandits?"

"Yes. Some thieving scoundrels—they often come to the village to steal. If they can't get anything, they take children, or women."

The old man spoke with anger in his voice, then his expression shifted slightly, and he said to Mo Hua:

"Young master, if you take the left or right paths, it should be fine. But if you go down the middle road, you must be cautious of the mountain bandits along the way. Those people are scum..."

Mo Hua nodded. "Understood."

He turned his head, glancing at the fence and brambles at the village entrance, then looked at the group of thin, pitiful children. Soft-hearted, he pointed a finger, and black ink twisted in the air. In a moment, he had drawn several array formations on the ground.

Earth and stone rose, brambles coiled, and both sides of the village entrance were sealed completely, forming an extremely solid barrier.

Earth-Wood Mountain-Sealing Formation.

It all happened in the blink of an eye.

With a light tap of his finger, the array emerged and the barrier formed. To the Qi Refining villagers watching, it was like a "divine miracle."

The old man's expression changed drastically. He asked in a trembling voice, "You... this is...?"

Mo Hua replied gently, "I drank a cup of your tea. I have no way to repay you, so I drew a few array formations for your protection."

"Array formations!" the old man exclaimed in disbelief. "Young master... are you an Array Master?"

Mo Hua nodded.

The old man was dumbfounded. "Remarkable, truly remarkable."

In remote places, array masters were already considered extraordinary. In rural lands like these, with no inheritance or teachings, a cultivator who knew even one or two array techniques would be greatly respected.

"Hurry, hurry..." the old man urged. "Gather everyone and thank this array master."

Soon, the entire village gathered, a crowd bowing toward Mo Hua.

Mo Hua hurriedly returned the bow. "No need for formalities."

Seeing some children were starving, he took out a few bottles of Fasting Pills from his supplies and gave them to them, then prepared to depart without further delay.

The old man saw which direction he was heading and quickly called out, "Young master! Are you taking the middle road?"

Mo Hua nodded.

The old man pleaded earnestly, "The middle road through the mountains has bandits—cunning and vicious. You are an array master, a man of great worth. You mustn't risk yourself alone!"

Mo Hua smiled calmly. "It's fine."

Unable to dissuade him, the old man could only watch helplessly as Mo Hua followed the central mountain path and disappeared into the dense forest, sighing heavily.

A middle-aged man in coarse clothes stared after Mo Hua's back, frowning. He said to the old man, "Elder, this young master… something about him doesn't seem right."

The old man was puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"I just feel," the middle-aged man hesitated, "he doesn't seem… human."

The old man grew annoyed. "What nonsense are you saying?"

The man glanced around and lowered his voice:

"Really, Elder. You've lived a long time—have you ever seen a youth among the passing cultivators who looks like that? Skin white like jade, faintly glowing, and features like a painting—he's not normal."

"And this mountain is dangerous, full of beasts. What kind of ordinary youth would dare travel alone?"

"Also, did you see how he drew that formation? Just a point in the air, and it appeared instantly. I may not know much, but I do know regular array masters don't draw like that. That youth… he might really not be 'human'..."

The old man was stunned. His brows furrowed tightly.

Now that he thought about it, it did make some sense.

If not human, then what...

He recalled Mo Hua's appearance—black hair like ink, skin pale as jade, eyes of deep clarity... indeed, he had the bearing of an immortal.

The thought struck him like lightning. The old man trembled. "Do you still remember the legend about the far side of Black Mountain?"

The middle-aged man froze. "You mean...?"

The old man nodded. "They say on the far side of Black Mountain, there's a city called Tongxian City—and within it, a child immortal, surname Mo, given name Hua. From a young age, he was a prodigy, unmatched in array formations. He once built a great formation as a child and slew a monstrous beast."

"I saw that youth just now—eyes like ink, face like a painting—could it be... he is the child immortal?"

"But... wasn't he called a 'child immortal'? Why does he look like a teenager?" the man asked.

The old man replied, "Immortals don't stay children forever."

The man nodded. "True. But why would he leave Black Mountain and come to a poor place like ours?"

"Hmm..." The old man pondered, then suddenly gasped, heart trembling with realization:

"He must have made progress in his cultivation and left Black Mountain to travel the world—to bless the people!"

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. His voice trembled:

"I heard Tongxian City used to be poor and harsh too. But once the child immortal laid his formations, the place grew more and more prosperous every year."

"And now, he's passed through here—and left us with formations."

"That means... our days will begin to improve as well..."

With that thought, the old man called out, "Quick! Kneel and pray to the child immortal! Ask for his blessing!"

Some villagers believed immediately, others were still confused—but since the elder spoke, they all knelt in a crowd and sincerely said:

"May the child immortal live forever..."

"May the child immortal bless us..."

…

In the desolate mountain forest.

Mo Hua, walking alone, suddenly sensed a pure and subtle wish-force enter his destiny thread. It seemed to soften and dispel some of the killing aura he carried.

He paused, looking back toward the village, moved.

"Could this be… merit from their wishes?"

Unfortunately, the area was simply too poor. There were no cultivation resources of any kind...

As the saying goes, "live off the mountain if you're by the mountain, live off the water if you're by the water."

But these rogue cultivators had long settled in mountains too barren to sustain them.

Even a clever cook can't make a meal without rice—Mo Hua was at a loss.

If they tried to migrate, the surrounding beasts would likely wipe them out halfway.

"Then the only way is... to carve a new main road through Black Mountain from Tongxian City?"

He fell into deep thought.

He continued forward, pondering this the entire way.

After about half an hour, the mountains closed in, narrowing the path.

Roughly two miles ahead, the terrain shifted—sheer cliffs on both sides, with only a narrow mountain path between.

Mo Hua stopped in front of the path, neither advancing nor retreating.

The surroundings were silent.

After a full incense stick's time, figures emerged from the bushes on both sides of the path—over ten cultivators.

"Big bro, did this brat notice us?"

One whispered softly, but Mo Hua still heard it.

A moment later, the man addressed as "Big Bro" stepped forward. Wearing yellow robes, he sized up Mo Hua with a frown, then sighed.

"Little brother, I don't want to make this hard for you, but we're poor up here—can't even keep our pots full. Just leave some toll money, and we'll let you pass. We all mind our own business."

It sounded reasonable enough.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, nodded, and tossed over twenty spirit stones.

The yellow-robed man was startled and exchanged looks with the others.

Mo Hua said, "I've paid the toll. Let me pass."

The man hesitated.

A bandit next to him leaned in and whispered:

"Boss, by our usual rules—if the traveler looks weak, we kill and rob; if they look important, we act pitiful and beg for some spirit stones."

"But this kid just threw twenty stones like it was nothing—he must be loaded. That's a fat sheep if I've ever seen one. Should we... take a gamble?"

The leader's brows furrowed as his eyes flickered with calculation. After a moment, he nodded slightly.

Another bandit, a burly man with a simple face, sighed and said to Mo Hua:

"Little brother, these spirit stones... aren't enough. Not to hide anything from you, I have an old parent above, a child below—split between us, this won't even feed my kid, let alone help him cultivate."

"Could you… give a bit more?"

"You mind giving a bit more?"

Mo Hua muttered thoughtfully, "Fair enough…" and casually tossed over twenty more spirit stones.

At that moment, the eyes of all the mountain bandits lit up.

A greedy, vicious glint also surfaced in the eyes of the yellow-robed man.

"Is that enough?" Mo Hua asked.

The yellow-robed man shook his head and sighed. "Still not enough… I've got an old mother above, a wife and kids below. Supporting a family is hard work. How about giving a little more, little brother?"

Mo Hua remained silent.

The yellow-robed man sneered coldly.

A moment later, Mo Hua shook his head. "You're lying."

The yellow-robed man grinned. "What am I lying about?"

Mo Hua said, "I know a little about karma techniques. I can divine a bit of fate. Your face—cruel and narrow—says it all. You have no old mother, no wife, no kids. So, you lied."

The yellow-robed man froze, then gave a wicked grin. "Give me more spirit stones, and I will get a wife and have kids."

Mo Hua still shook his head. "Your face bears the mark of a 'cut-off line of descent.' You'll never marry, and you'll never have children."

The yellow-robed man's expression twisted. "You slick-tongued brat!"

Mo Hua's pupils darkened.

But the yellow-robed man remained unaware, still cursing:

"Get him! Snatch his storage pouch, skin him alive, rip out his tendons—!"

The dozen or so mountain bandits surged at Mo Hua, their faces lit with excitement.

"Been a long time since we had a fat lamb…"

"Bad luck for him…"

"I need more spirit stones for my son's cultivation—so he can take over for me someday…"

"Can't help it. This godforsaken place—only way to survive is robbery and murder…"

In just a few breaths, the group had completely surrounded Mo Hua.

Mo Hua didn't move.

"This kid—don't tell me he's frozen in fear?" one of the bandits sneered, then shouted, "First kill's mine! Don't fight me for it!"

"Bullshit!"

"Haven't had fresh meat in a while!"

Three or four bandits raised their axes, fighting to be the first to strike Mo Hua.

But in the next instant, in the blink of an eye—

A deep crimson flame burst forth.

Those three or four bandits were instantly incinerated—clothing, flesh, bone, even their very essence—all reduced to nothing.

The mocking smiles on the remaining bandits' faces vanished in a flash, replaced by utter, disbelieving terror.

"Shit!"

"What the hell is that!?"

The yellow-robed man broke out in a cold sweat, his face as pale as paper, drained of all color.

Without hesitation, he turned and fled, abandoning his comrades, screaming inside:

"Fuck this! Fuck this! Running into a ghost in broad daylight? We picked the wrong damn guy!"

The yellow-robed man ran with everything he had, using his crude movement technique to escape desperately.

But he hadn't gone far when he felt warmth—and a burning sensation—on his chest.

He looked down, and his guts turned cold.

At some point, a fireball had melted through his chest.

All his blood had been scorched away, leaving behind a black, gaping hole.

His terrified eyes lost focus. He staggered a few steps and collapsed to the ground, dead.

The remaining seven or eight bandits were also killed—one by one, sometimes two at a time—with Mo Hua's fireballs.

Only one was left—a bandit with a naive, honest face—collapsed in terror, his pants soaked, pleading:

"Little bro—no, great master, my lord, please spare me… I really do have a kid to raise…"

Mo Hua looked at him coldly. "So your child can grow up and take your place, robbing travelers too?"

The bandit turned deathly pale.

Mo Hua said flatly, "Like father, like son. That's fate. Today, I'll kill the father, and change the fate of the son."

The bandit's soul nearly fled his body. He turned and tried to flee, but his legs gave out under him.

Within a few breaths, a deep red fireball descended with a boom, and burned him to ash.

And so, the dozen or so bandits were wiped out by Mo Hua—nothing left of their corpses or limbs.

The narrow mountain path fell into a dead silence.

Mo Hua stood there with a cold expression, eyes filled with murderous intent—like a god of death.

A moment later, the gray killing aura in his eyes gradually faded. His pupils contracted. He finally came back to himself.

Looking at the bandits' corpses around him, then down at his own pale hands, his expression dazed, he frowned and muttered:

"How… could I not hold back…"

These bandits—he hadn't needed to kill them. He hadn't even intended to kill them.

He could have left invisibly, or restrained them with spells. Even crippling their limbs would've been enough.

But the moment he saw their greed and heard their vile words, the killing intent in his heart surged uncontrollably.

And so, with Fireball Technique, he slaughtered them all—before he even realized it.

After the killing, Mo Hua didn't feel anything was wrong. No backlash from the killing aura. On the contrary, his mind felt clearer and freer.

But that was precisely the biggest problem.

If he had forcibly suppressed the killing urge and spared them, the killing aura would've turned on him—clouding his mind, disturbing his thoughts.

But if he killed to vent that urge, it would feel like mental clarity—but the karmic burden would root into his fate.

The killing intent would fuse with his nature, engrave itself into his soul.

Over time, the bloodlust would deepen, until it became uncontrollable—addicted to killing, slaughtering at the slightest provocation.

That could never be allowed…

Mo Hua furrowed his brow and sternly warned himself:

"I must not kill. I must not kill. No matter what—I must not take another life…"

"From now on, I, Mo Hua, will never break the killing precept again…"

(End of this Chapter)