Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 870: I Want to Learn the Sword

A storm surged in the old man's heart.

And yet, Mo Hua remained completely unaware.

His hands still dusty and grimy, he was busily packing earth and stone around the broken sword, trying to bury it a little deeper and make sure it stood up straight—so it wouldn't topple over in the wind.

Until—

He suddenly sensed a terrifying aura behind him.

An aura so overwhelming, it made his heart tremble.

Worse—it was wildly unstable, clearly driven by turbulent emotions.

Startled, Mo Hua turned around and saw that long-bearded elder's eyes had turned bloodshot. Within them, it was as if ten thousand sword lights were howling, swirling into a boundless sword sea, like the entire Great Void itself had been condensed into a storm of blades.

A killing intent surged from the elder, razor-sharp and murderous, powerful beyond imagination.

Dark light flickered, and even the space around them seemed to crack under pressure.

Mo Hua's pupils shrank.

This… was the first time he had directly faced the oppressive presence of a Void Ascension cultivator.

Only now did he understand just how vast the difference was between realms—if a high-level cultivator didn't suppress their aura, and went all out… the sheer force was unimaginable.

He had no chance of resisting it at all.

Fortunately, this long-bearded elder had long practiced tempering his state of mind. Realizing something was wrong, he immediately began suppressing his emotions.

Who knows how long passed before the sword intent finally receded.

The cracks in space smoothed out, and the elder's expression returned to calm—like a still lake.

But inside… he was anything but calm.

"Where did you get… this broken sword?"

The elder's voice was hoarse and old. A faint sadness tinged his words.

Mo Hua's heart skipped a beat.

He instantly realized—this broken sword must have an extraordinary origin.

And that Senior Xuan… likely had a deep, unknown connection with this mighty elder whose sword aura could shake heaven and earth.

After a moment of thought, Mo Hua cautiously replied:

"I once visited a small fishing village outside the Qianxue Prefecture, near the Misty River. In that village was an abandoned and hidden River God Temple. Inside the temple was a Blood Pool, and this broken sword… was being suppressed at the bottom of that pool, corroded by blood energy."

"River God Temple… Blood Pool…"

The elder frowned slightly.

"Why were you there?"

Mo Hua explained:

"I was carrying out a sect bounty mission. Some traffickers had kidnapped two children from that village. The Dao Court issued a bounty and needed a disciple skilled in formations. I'm pretty decent at formations, so I tagged along. While capturing the traffickers in the temple, I accidentally discovered something in the blood pool. When I pulled it out, it turned out to be this broken sword…"

Traffickers, small fishing village, Dao Court bounty…

All surface-level events that the Dao Court would have records of—easily verifiable.

As for the blood leeches, water demons, and the corrupted River God—those were known only to Mo Hua himself.

The elder pondered for a while, then asked:

"Then how did you know… that the sword's owner was buried in the Sword Tomb?"

This part Mo Hua didn't need to hide.

"I asked around about the fishing village legends. Based on the sword owner's clothing, I guessed he was a senior from my Great Void Sect."

"I consulted elders from the sect, but no one could identify the sword's owner. They only said he likely practiced a very powerful sword art, and…"

Mo Hua paused slightly, carefully glancing at the elder before continuing in a soft voice:

"His life-bound sword was broken. His foundation was likely damaged."

"So I assumed… that this senior must've faced an unknowable, powerful enemy, fought a great battle, and eventually succumbed to his wounds. And like other seniors of the Great Void Sect… was buried here in the Sword Tomb."

The long-bearded elder's expression became even more distant, his gaze tinged with sorrow.

He took a deep breath and thought carefully about Mo Hua's story. His instincts told him there wasn't much deception here.

In fact, the boy's words were probably pretty close to the truth of the karmic events involved.

Even if there were minor omissions, they didn't matter.

The elder turned to look at Mo Hua again.

Especially at his clear, sincere eyes and his pure temperament. He let out a long sigh.

So many coincidences… but maybe, it wasn't coincidence at all.

Perhaps it was fate.

The heavens had brought this child before him with these "coincidences," to deliver Xuan'er's relic—the sword that had accompanied him since youth, grown alongside him, been his very life-bound blade.

Perhaps… this was Heaven's mercy.

The heavens, it seemed, still showed some grace to his half-buried bones—offering this last sliver of comfort in his remaining days.

The long-bearded elder let out a slow sigh.

Then he looked again at Mo Hua, and said:

"This broken sword is extremely important to me. The fact that you were able to bring it here… must be fate."

"I am a man who repays both kindness and grievance. If someone harms me, I return it. But if someone grants me a favor—I never leave it unpaid."

"I shall give you one promise: within the bounds of righteousness and the sect's laws… I will grant you one wish."

"Speak. What do you want?"

His tone was solemn—as weighty as gold.

Mo Hua was stunned—shocked to the core.

This terrifying elder of the Great Void Sect—though sealed away—was still unimaginably powerful… and he was offering to grant a wish?

Mo Hua had not expected… that this broken sword held such value!

But what should he ask for?

He was completely unprepared.

Caught off guard, he became conflicted.

The long-bearded elder didn't rush him either.

This sort of thing deserved careful thought.

As a disciple, one could reasonably wish for inner sect entry, learning sect legacies, becoming a teaching assistant—even securing a future elder position if one reached the Golden Core stage.

Of course, if Mo Hua got greedy and, say, demanded to be made Sect Master, the old man would personally lift him by the collar and throw him off the back mountain.

Mo Hua naturally wasn't that clueless.

Although the elder didn't state specific limits, it was obvious not just any wish could be granted.

If he asked too much or had no tact, he'd definitely suffer for it.

The request had to match his status as a disciple, show ambition and progress, but not come across as overreaching.

It couldn't be some vague "pie in the sky" wish that sounded nice but offered nothing now.

After some thought, Mo Hua answered solemnly:

"Patriarch… I want to learn the sword!"

Patriarch Dugu's brows furrowed slightly.

Wanting to learn swordsmanship as a disciple—reasonable enough.

And his own sword mastery was incredibly deep—drawing from countless schools, fused into one vast sea of understanding. Perhaps not unmatched in history, but certainly among the rarest in the entire Qianxue Prefecture.

But…

He glanced at Mo Hua again—at his frail body, thin spiritual power, and an aura that barely suggested any swordsmanship at all.

"From a young age… have you had any sword inheritance?" Dugu asked.

"No," Mo Hua replied honestly.

He didn't have the background to fake it.

"Any sword foundation?"

"No."

"Have you ever nurtured a spiritual sword?"

"No."

"Have you diligently trained your sword qi for over ten years?"

"No…"

"Then… have you forged a Sword Heart?"

Mo Hua shook his head again.

"No…"

In fact, he didn't even know what a Sword Heart was…

Dugu was speechless.

This kid… wants to learn the sword?

The elder was silent for a while, then sighed.

Admittedly, with talent like this, it was almost delusional to hope for major accomplishments in swordsmanship.

But—the desire itself was not wrong.

Talent and aptitude weren't excuses.

If someone was willing to strive, study hard, and persevere, that deserved encouragement.

In the tens of thousands of years of cultivation history, there were cases of dull-talented cultivators who became top sword cultivators through sheer effort.

Besides—there was karma here.

The boy brought the sword.

He would pass down the sword arts.

It was fitting.

Mo Hua's cultivation and sword foundation were both weak—even a small teaching would benefit him for life.

Dugu considered for a moment, glanced over Mo Hua again, noting the types of spells and combat methods he was familiar with, and said:

"I will teach you the Hidden Void Misty Sword Manual. It fuses sword techniques with movement techniques—both offensive and defensive. Agile and adaptable."

Mo Hua thought about it… and shook his head.

His movement skills were already good. If he wanted to combine them with killing moves, Falling Meteor Art would be better.

Learning another sword-movement fusion style felt redundant.

"Then I'll pass you the Six Pulse Spirit-Charging Sword. It aligns with the Chongxu Sect's lineage. It specializes in sword qi. Though not overwhelmingly powerful, it's gentle and easy on the body."

Mo Hua still shook his head.

His sword qi foundation was poor. Even if he trained it, it would be in vain.

"Then I'll teach you the Great Void Soaring Dragon Sword Art. Immensely powerful—though its might doesn't show until Golden Core or higher. At Nascent Soul and Ascension stage, you can control swords across a thousand miles, and your sword qi will roar like a dragon."

"This is one of the Great Void Sect's core legacies. Only inner sect elites are allowed to learn it. But… your case is special. I can make an exception—just this once."

The Great Void Soaring Dragon Sword Art…

Mo Hua's eyes widened in shock.

Just hearing the name—it sounded majestic.

But also… terrifyingly difficult.

No doubt it required vast spiritual power, a high-quality sword, and deep sword cultivation.

He had none of those.

The sword art was excellent—but clearly not something he could handle.

So… Mo Hua shook his head again.

At last, the long-bearded elder grew visibly impatient. He frowned.

"This one you won't learn, that one you refuse too—then tell me, what sword technique do you want to learn?"

Mo Hua felt a little guilty.

He had originally hoped that the elder would bring it up himself—that way, he wouldn't have to ask for it outright and seem scheming.

But clearly… that wasn't going to happen.

The Divine Mind Sword Technique had been marked as forbidden by the Great Void Sect. The elder probably wouldn't mention it himself—much less offer to teach it.

And the Divine Mind Sword legacy was buried here, in the Sword Tomb.

And in the Sword Tomb… there was only this elder.

Which meant, in all likelihood—this long-bearded patriarch was the only person left in the entire sect who could teach this art.

At this point, Mo Hua couldn't afford to be polite.

If he didn't seize the opportunity now, he might never get another.

The sword had been delivered. The elder was still moved by the sentiment. So… Why not go big?

If he hesitated now and missed this once-in-a-lifetime chance, he might regret it forever.

"Senior," Mo Hua's expression turned firm. His eyes grew resolute and bright. He spoke each word clearly and deliberately:

"I want to learn… the Great Void Divine Mind Sword Technique!"

His voice rang clear and crisp—echoing through the stillness of night, reverberating between the ancient tombstones of the Sword Tomb.

The atmosphere instantly turned deathly silent.

The long-bearded elder stared at him, expression unreadable, dazed for a moment.

And suddenly… A memory stirred.

Hundreds of years ago, in a forest much like this one—his beloved grandson had stood before him, looking at him with the same unwavering gaze, saying the same thing:

"I want to learn… the Divine Mind Sword Technique of the Great Void Sect."

Back then, the elder had relented. He had high hopes for the boy.

So he'd broken sect rules and secretly passed the art down.

And then— He was wrong.

Utterly, fatally wrong.

A bitter, helpless ache rose in the elder's chest.

He forced himself to bury the memories, to silence the old pain.

His gaze grew deep as he stared at Mo Hua, a subtle pressure in his tone:

"The Great Void Sect has placed a secrecy order on that sword technique. Where did you hear the name?"

Mo Hua looked slightly guilty.

"I… overheard it from some elders…"

"Why do you want to learn this technique?"

"Because… it sounds powerful," Mo Hua muttered sheepishly.

And it was powerful.

The elder was caught off guard by this somewhat childish answer, but in the end, he no longer suspected Mo Hua of having ulterior motives.

Still, his tone turned cold: "Any other Great Void sword technique—even those from the Tai'a or Chongxu lineages—I could teach you. But this one… you cannot learn."

"Because it's too dangerous?" Mo Hua asked.

The elder's eyelids twitched.

"So you know already?"

"Mm," Mo Hua nodded. "I heard this sword art focuses on intent—it battles with divine will and kills through soul force. That makes it extremely lethal—but also very risky. A small mistake could permanently damage the soul."

He even knew that?

The elder's gaze grew sharper.

He'd have to look into which elder in the sect was so loose-lipped—telling disciples things they had no business hearing.

"You know all this, and you still want to learn it?"

"Precisely because I know… that's why I want to learn it!" Mo Hua said matter-of-factly.

"Senior, you can tell—I've got poor spiritual roots. I was born weak. My blood qi, my spiritual energy—they're far below average."

"But Heaven always gives as much as it takes. I may lack strength—but I do have one thing…"

Mo Hua's expression remained humble, but there was a trace of pride in his voice.

"My divine sense is strong."

"And that's why I want to practice the Divine Mind Sword!"

The elder's gaze sharpened.

Playing to your strengths while avoiding your weaknesses… That did make some sense.

But a Foundation Establishment cultivator—how strong could their divine sense really be?

The elder wasn't convinced. He extended his own divine sense to probe Mo Hua's.

In the next moment, his eyes widened slightly, then narrowed.

"What's your divine sense realm?" he asked slowly.

"Nineteen-stripe peak," Mo Hua answered.

For a split second, the elder thought he'd misheard.

He frowned.

"Release your divine sense. Fully."

Mo Hua nodded and did so without hesitation.

He let his peak-level nineteen-stripe divine sense pour out unreservedly.

As the elder sensed it—divine sense so close to the upper limit of the Foundation Establishment stage—his expression gradually sharpened.

Before, he'd only vaguely felt that Mo Hua's divine sense was unusual.

But still, he was just a junior—a Foundation Establishment disciple. How extraordinary could he really be?

He was a Void Ascension Patriarch—he'd seen every storm there was to see.

But this…

Foundation Establishment cultivation.

Peak nineteen-stripe divine sense?

This, he had never seen before.

"You…" he began.

Mo Hua decided to reveal a little of his cards:

"Senior… I'm walking the path of divine sense cultivation."

"Divine sense cultivation…"

The elder echoed the words. That ancient, long-lost path… one no one had spoken of in ages.

No wonder…

He pondered for a moment, but still shook his head.

"The Divine Mind Sword is a sword technique. It's not the same as simply cultivating divine sense. You're a complete novice in the sword. I still can't teach it to you. Even if I did… you wouldn't be able to learn it."

"I can learn it!" Mo Hua blurted.

"You can?" The elder raised an eyebrow.

Mo Hua was about to say he had already learned the Sword Manifestation Form and even the Sword of Divine Dread…

But then he remembered:

He was currently hosting the evil fetus, which had sealed his soul—he couldn't use the Divine Dread Sword.

And the Sword Manifestation Form… he couldn't demonstrate it either.

If he claimed he knew the technique but couldn't use it, the elder would definitely think he was lying.

Not to mention… he had technically learned the Divine Mind Sword in secret.

It was stolen knowledge—and he didn't know if that would offend the elder.

So Mo Hua backpedaled:

"I mean… I will be able to learn it!"

The elder gave him a long, piercing look, then shook his head slightly.

"This sword technique is not a child's toy."

"I understand."

"If you make a mistake while cultivating it—at best, your divine sense will be damaged. At worst… your soul sea will shatter."

"I'm not afraid."

"In battle, the slightest slip could destroy your soul… or even get it corrupted by evil."

"I'm still not afraid."

…

No matter what the long-bearded elder said, Mo Hua remained unwavering. He was absolutely determined to learn.

The elder didn't blame him. On the contrary, a tinge of melancholy surfaced in his heart.

Back then, Xuan'er had pleaded with the same stubbornness—begging to be taught the Divine Mind Sword Technique. No amount of persuasion could stop him.

The elder's heart softened once again.

Maybe… he should teach it to the boy?

But Mo Hua's foundation in swordsmanship was far too weak. Even if he taught him, how could he possibly learn it?

Could he really comprehend a sword technique through divine sense cultivation alone?

Then, a flash of sudden realization struck the elder— Divine Sense Cultivation!

Divine Sense!

The Great Void Divine Mind Sword Technique actually contained two paths: one of divine sense, and one of swordsmanship.

Because divine sense cultivators were so rare, the Great Void Sect had long treated this art purely as a sword technique, completely overlooking the "Divine Mind" part of its name.

They sought sword intent through the technique, yet had reduced divine sense to just "sword intent."

But "Divine Mind" encompassed far more than that—it was deeper, broader than mere intent.

How could one master the Divine Mind Sword without cultivating the divine mind?

The elder's heart trembled.

He realized that the way the Great Void Sect had been cultivating this art… might've been flawed from the very beginning.

Focusing solely on sword intent, neglecting divine sense— It was like cutting off one arm, then trying to wield a double-edged blade.

But maybe… just maybe… a cultivator who walked the path of divine sense could unlock the sword's true potential?

The elder couldn't help but look at Mo Hua again.

That once-extinguished ember in his heart began to glow faintly once more.

More than anyone, he had longed to pass on this sword art.

But he had forcibly buried that wish for hundreds of years.

He gazed silently at Mo Hua for a long time… then sighed.

He knew—if he truly taught Mo Hua this sword art, it would almost certainly bring him harm.

This sword technique was a double-edged sword.

The more deadly it was to others, the more ruthless it was to the one who wielded it.

Over the years, countless gifted sword prodigies had died because of it.

He didn't want to add another name to that list.

But Mo Hua seemed to see right through the elder's hesitation.

"Senior… all people die in the end," he said.

The elder blinked, puzzled by the remark.

Mo Hua's eyes were bright. He continued: "We don't stop living just because we know we'll die."

"Likewise—even if sword cultivation is dangerous, we can't avoid it just because it's dangerous."

"The Great Dao is distant. Most cultivators won't ever attain it. They'll die halfway. But those truly determined to become immortals—won't stop seeking the path, won't stop walking it."

His eyes were clear and radiant—like stars in the night sky.

The elder was deeply shaken.

This boy… where did he cultivate such a pure, luminous Dao Heart?

He fell silent, thinking for a while. Gradually, his heart calmed. His gaze sharpened with solemnity.

"What is your name?" he asked slowly.

Mo Hua replied respectfully: "Replying to senior, I am Mo Hua."

Mo Hua…

The elder repeated the name silently in his heart, then nodded.

"Very well. I agree. I will teach you the Divine Mind Sword Technique!"

Mo Hua's eyes lit up with joy. He quickly bowed: "Thank you, senior!"

The elder said: "It's late tonight. Go back and rest. From now on, every seven days, I'll bring you to this Sword Tomb behind the mountain to study the Divine Mind Sword with me."

"Whether you succeed or not… will depend on your own comprehension and fortune."

"But I must make this clear: if one day, I discover you've gone astray in your cultivation, or you wield this sword recklessly, or worse—use it to do evil…"

"Then I will destroy your Divine Mind Sword cultivation and expel you from the Great Void Sect."

Mo Hua grew solemn. He nodded firmly.

"Senior, I understand and will remember."

The elder glanced at him again. Mo Hua's gaze was serious, his demeanor respectful.

The old man gave a slight nod.

"Good. I'll send you out now. Once you're outside—remember—do not tell anyone about what happened here."

"No one. Not your parents, your relatives, your brothers, or even any member of the Great Void Sect."

"Yes!" Mo Hua nodded solemnly.

The long-bearded elder said no more. His shriveled hand tore the air itself open, ripping a hole in the void. Then he grabbed Mo Hua and threw him into it.

Mo Hua was tossed headlong through swirling space.

Moments later, dazed and dizzy, he was back in his residence.

The array he had been drawing on the floor was still half-complete.

All that had just happened… it almost felt like a dream.

Mo Hua pinched his cheek—it hurt a bit. So not a dream.

His eyes sparkled.

At last…

He could finally study the true Divine Mind Sword!

...

Meanwhile, back at the rear mountain's Sword Tomb.

After sending Mo Hua away, the long-bearded elder still sat motionless, thoughts churning.

He didn't know if the choice he'd made was right.

But perhaps… this really was his last chance.

His final attempt in this life— To blaze a new trail. To use the divine sense cultivation path… To master the Divine Mind Sword.

Cultivators who walked that path were vanishingly rare.

And one like Mo Hua—with such overwhelming divine sense talent—was a once-in-a-lifetime find.

If he missed this chance, then even if he lived two more lifetimes… he might never meet another like him again.

"Mo Hua…"

He murmured the name once more.

Then he took out a bamboo strip, whittled it into a small bamboo sword, and carved "Mo Hua" into it.

His expression heavy, he placed the bamboo sword onto a particular tomb.

This sword tomb was special. Many bamboo swords were already planted in it—each one bearing a name.

Names only he knew.

And when he died… those names would vanish forever.

Mo Hua's bamboo sword was nothing fancy. Just an ordinary strip of bamboo, placed last among the others.

The elder did it simply as a matter of ritual.

But the moment the bamboo sword touched the tomb— The sword energy in the forbidden ground erupted violently.

The broken swords buried in the tombs trembled and hummed with deep resonance.

Ancient sword intents seemed to awaken, manifesting as wisps of white smoke, rising from each grave…

Twisting and weaving together—forming a vast, breathtaking sea of sword clouds.

Ancestor Dugu's pupils contracted. For a moment, he forgot to breathe.

For the first time in hundreds of years, his heart—long as still as an ancient well—quivered with indescribable awe.

(End of this Chapter)