Immortality Through Array Formations

Chapter 1915: Chapter 935: Wood White Gold Jade (Part 3)

Mo Hua sat alone atop the big tree, sighing helplessly.

Just as he was bored out of his mind, someone walked over from afar. Mo Hua’s eyes lit up, and he called out, ”Xiaoxiao!”

The newcomer was none other than Linghu Xiao.

To outsiders, he was the aloof Sword Dao Genius, rarely seen with a smile on his face.

In the entire Taixu Gate, only Mo Hua dared to call him ”Xiaoxiao.”

Linghu Xiao felt hopeless too.

Mo Hua sat in the tree, waving him over. Linghu Xiao used his movement technique, his figure like a sword, and in just a few swift steps climbed up next to Mo Hua.

”You finished your match?”

”Yeah, finished.”

Linghu Xiao nodded. He was now at the Foundation Establishment Late Stage, already starting to refine the Chongxu Sect sword as his own Magical Treasure. Not only had his cultivation improved, but his Sword Qi was sharper than ever.

And after that calamity in the Valley of Ten Thousand Demons, his Sword Heart had been tempered, and it showed—his whole presence now radiated astonishing Sword Dao aura top to bottom.

His Chongxu Swordsmanship had truly started to reach a masterful level, showing its edge.

During sparring, ordinary disciples couldn’t even block a single strike from him before being defeated on the spot.

So Linghu Xiao finished up quickly, and since he had nothing else to do, he came to find Mo Hua sitting in the tree, watching the show.

The two of them watched for a while. Suddenly, Linghu Xiao asked Mo Hua, ”You going to the Sword Discussion Conference?”

Mo Hua hesitated. ”Hard to say...”

To say he didn’t want to go would be a lie.

Even though he’d won the Formation Competition and became the Leader, Sword Discussion and Formation Competition were totally different beasts.

Whether it was intensity, excitement, difficulty, or attention, they weren’t even on the same level.

At the Sword Discussion, the proudest compete, and anything can happen. Until the very end, no one knows who will claim the prize.

But his situation was unique, and he knew it well.

He could participate, sure, but how much effort it’d take, how far he’d get, it was all up in the air.

Merit Points? He had more than he could ever use.

His reputation? Brought more baggage than help.

Honestly, right now the Sword Discussion hasn’t got much pull for him.

Maybe, at best, since Taixu Gate’s not doing so hot, he’d find a way to help snag a spot for them, but that’d be it.

To really risk everything, possibly expose all his trump cards, just for a top ranking—he couldn’t see the point.

Everything has two sides.

Winning fame at the Sword Discussion, standing atop the mountain, might look glorious, but with so many watching, it could just as easily plant the seeds of trouble.

Mo Hua was just as unsure as before.

Linghu Xiao nodded silently. After a pause, he said, ”If you go, I’ll go with you.”

Mo Hua was stunned, turning to give Linghu Xiao a look.

Linghu Xiao’s face was calm, but his eyes were resolute.

Mo Hua felt a surge of gratitude.

Sword Discussion isn’t just a one-man show. You need five people working as one. If you want a good result, you’ve got to ”join forces”—not a single weak link among you.

Mo Hua knew he wasn’t exactly weak, but in a straight-up fight under these rules, he might not be all that strong after all.

But Linghu Xiao really was strong. Ever since he hit Foundation Establishment Late Stage, his swordsmanship had been growing stronger every day.

He was probably trying to help out, even if this would be his one and only chance at the Sword Discussion in his life.

Even if Mo Hua’s Spiritual Power was low and might drag him down.

Mo Hua smiled, giving Linghu Xiao’s shoulder a pat. ”I appreciate it, really. But let’s talk about that later.”

Linghu Xiao nodded, saying no more.

Quiet settled in. Mo Hua focused, watching the disciples spar below.

As he watched, Mo Hua realized his fellow disciples of Taixu Gate had come a long way since before—in both Cultivation and Taoist Skill.

Especially Cultivation.

Their Spiritual Roots were better than his, and they’d reached Foundation Establishment Late Stage sooner, meaning they’d had half a year more to build their Cultivation than he had.

Mo Hua checked around and saw, among all the disciples, his own Spiritual Power was truly the lowest.

And the gap had widened without him noticing.

At Foundation Establishment Early Stage, it wasn’t obvious.

Now, having passed the Middle Phase and entered the Late Stage, the differences in Spiritual Roots and Cultivation Technique were more pronounced than ever.

Mo Hua compared again.

If, at Foundation Establishment Early Stage, his Spiritual Power Cycle was just twenty percent below his peers—

Now, he was thirty or even forty percent lower.

And that’s just compared to the average level.

Compared to top geniuses like Linghu Xiao, Mo Hua found his Spiritual Power Cycle barely matched half of theirs...

Only half as much...

And this was just Foundation Establishment.

If he reached the Golden Core Realm, the gap might grow even bigger.

Because the baseline difference was huge, and the higher you climb, the greater the multiplication of power, and that gap gets wider and wider.

Mo Hua knew this in theory before, but back then he’d been clueless, never felt it quite so keenly as now.

Mo Hua took a quiet, shaky breath.

The difference in wealth among cultivators was astonishing, but the difference in Spiritual Power was even more outrageous.

”I’ve gotta figure something out...”

Mo Hua felt urgency mount inside.

...

Nighttime, in the Disciple’s Residence.

Back from Refining Demon Mountain, Mo Hua slumped over his desk, diligently practicing Formation.

He figured he ought to strengthen himself some more.

But his lack of Spiritual Power was pretty much a dead end—an unsolvable weakness he couldn’t break through right now. Only thing left was to try and bolster his Divine Sense.

If his Divine Sense was stronger, his Formations, spells, Sword techniques, they’d all get better.

And with the Sword Discussion Conference coming up next year, it was only smart to prepare. Even if he only took part, having strength was better than going in empty-handed.

But after a few rounds of Formation practice, Mo Hua checked inside himself and shook his head in defeat.

”No good... I can barely sense any growth in my Divine Sense.”

Ever since he reached Foundation Establishment, he could still boost Divine Sense through Formation, but just relying on this method, the growth was next to nothing.

The Formation now mostly honed his grasp of its rules and control over Divine Sense, not so much boosting its strength.

Maybe it had something to do with his Divine Sense becoming more attuned with the Dao.

Could be eating all those Demon Monsters and Evil Spirits had something to do with it too.

And now he’d quit eating them, or there wasn’t anything good to eat anyway, Mo Hua’s Divine Sense had almost stopped improving—especially as he’d hit this critical Twenty Patterns bottleneck.

”Stuck again...”

Divine Sense, Formation, Sword technique, own Magical Treasure—all caught up.

Mo Hua sighed.

Tao Cultivation really isn’t easy—obstacles everywhere.

Of course, the long road of Tao Cultivation is always full of bumps and setbacks.

Mo Hua forced himself to calm down and kept practicing Formation, running those familiar drills over and over, countless times.

Bit by bit, grinding his Divine Sense, seeking the truths of Cultivation.

No clue how long he practiced for, or why, but somehow Mo Hua felt a weariness descend on him for the first time ever—an overwhelming exhaustion pulling down his eyelids.

He struggled a little, but it was useless. He just couldn’t muster the energy.

Finally, he couldn’t hold on any longer. His eyes closed, his head drooped, and he collapsed onto the desk, knocking over the Spiritual Ink with his arms.

The Spiritual Ink spread out, staining the Formation Paper black.

Mo Hua fell into a nightmare.

In the nightmare, it was pitch black. A creature shaped like an ”Evil Embryo” stared at Mo Hua, eyes full of malice.