Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 880: The Exam Topic

By evening, Elder Zheng returned to Qiandao City. A few old friends had come to bid him farewell.

During the banquet, many expressed their regret at his departure. Some couldn't bear to part and even invited him to join their own clans or sects as a guest elder.

Elder Zheng politely declined all invitations.

After the feast, they parted ways.

He returned to his residence, closed his eyes, and rested briefly.

When the appointed time came, he packed up all his treasures, formation scrolls, and formation diagrams. Then, without looking back, he left the cave residence he had lived in for decades and headed straight for the outskirts of the city.

After riding for about an hour, he reached the Cloud Ferry Station at the border of Dry Learning Prefecture.

He planned to board the ferry there. After three transfers along the way, it would take about a month to reach Zhen Prefecture.

Elder Zheng had originally felt no attachment to this place. But as he stepped forward to leave, for some reason, a sense of hesitation tugged at his heart.

The face and voice of the young man he had met earlier that day resurfaced in his mind.

Elder Zheng sighed with emotion.

In this bustling, fame-chasing Dry Learning Prefecture, there truly still existed such a young man—born poor, yet earnest and passionate, with outstanding talent and comprehension.

His previous judgment… had indeed been too narrow.

Just then, the ferry horn sounded—departure was imminent.

Elder Zheng stepped forward… and suddenly stopped.

"Once I step onto this deck and leave Dry Prefecture, I may never return in this life…"

His steps grew heavy. A strange sense of unease welled up inside, as if leaving now would mean missing something truly important.

He furrowed his brows and hesitated for a long while, then finally sighed:

"Forget it. I'll stay a few more days. I'll watch this year's Formation Symposium, then leave. Zhen Prefecture is far away anyway… a few days won't matter."

Having made the decision, he felt noticeably more at ease.

He looked up and saw a full moon hanging in the sky. Its cool light blanketed the earth, accompanied by a gentle breeze—moonlight and wind in quiet harmony.

Another day passed.

Tomorrow would be the Formation Symposium.

At that moment, atop Lun Dao Mountain, in a sealed and grand ceremonial hall…

A group of formation elders had gathered to determine the exam topics for the symposium.

Those present were all third- and fourth-grade formation masters from the major sects across Dry Learning Prefecture, all with considerable formation expertise.

While the sects often fought openly and secretly, formation masters typically held a more detached status. They formed their own unique circle, not always bound by sect rivalries.

And now, they were working on setting the questions for the Formation Symposium.

This was no trivial matter. No one dared to slack off, and personal grievances were left outside the hall.

So, the atmosphere was quite harmonious.

Everyone was discussing which formations would make suitable exam topics for this year's event.

To avoid favoritism, the chief examiner was chosen from the Dao Court's Heavenly Pivot Pavilion—a Yu Hua Realm formation master known respectfully as Master Wen.

The Heavenly Pivot Pavilion was part of the Dao Court but dealt exclusively with formation matters. Compared to the central authorities of the Dao Court, it remained relatively neutral.

Master Wen himself hailed from Dry Learning Prefecture, and his mastery of formations was widely acknowledged. His role as chief examiner was neither controversial nor disputed.

At the moment, he was leading the topic-setting process in an orderly fashion.

"This 'Yimu Gen Mountain Array' is a good one, definitely worth testing…"

"Anything with more than sixteen runes in the 'Li Fire Array' category is too lethal—not suitable. A small mistake in drawing could cause it to go out of control and spark chaos during the event."

"Agreed. These are still sect disciples—we should focus more on cultivating the mind and understanding the Dao, benefiting production, or perhaps include some defensive formations…"

"Nonsense! Killing arrays must be tested. Formation masters are already weak in combat. If we don't test any offensive formations, they'll be too soft when facing real combat in the future."

"That applies to small-scale duels. Setting up a formation one-on-one is slow and impractical—of course formation masters are at a disadvantage."

"But large-scale battles are different! In full-scale war, it's all about coordination—armor forging, troop formations, strategic arrays! That's when formation masters truly shine!"

"Hundreds, thousands—even tens of thousands—under array blessings, charging forth like an unstoppable tide…"

"You're getting ahead of yourself. These are just kids. How could they command armies?"

"Right. And let's not forget, most of these disciples are treasured heirs of noble clans. How many of them are actually going to risk their lives on the battlefield?"

"Then why study formations at all? Just for show?"

"Now you're being too extreme…"

"How is that extreme?!"

"Alright, alright," someone intervened, "Let's stay on track."

"Yes, there's no point arguing. Let's focus on the topics…"

"In my opinion, split it fifty-fifty," one elder suggested. "Half offensive formations, half industry-type arrays."

Another shook his head. "That's too much. I'd say four to five portions: 40% for killing and trapping formations, 50% for industry and supportive arrays, and the remaining 10% for theoretical or advanced formations."

"Then… which specific ones? We've rotated these formation diagrams so many times they're all worn out."

"To us, sure—we've used them endlessly. But don't forget, these disciples are only just beginning to learn many of them."

"That's true…"

"Still, it's getting stale."

"Should we spice it up with something new?" a senior elder proposed.

"Like what? If it's too advanced, the disciples might panic and fail to draw anything. We, the examiners, would be cursed silently in their hearts—and the patriarchs of those big clans might grumble too…"

"Fair point…"

"Maybe add some array variations?"

"I don't think that's wise," one elder replied. "We're old veterans—decades of training and broad exposure to all kinds of variations."

"But those disciples are just kids. Their years alive don't even match a fraction of ours. They've barely had any hands-on formation experience. They probably only know one or two basic array styles. Giving them variations feels like too much."

"Still, the sect system has already been reformed. Shouldn't the Formation Symposium evolve a little too? Just a little change—test one or two array variations."

"Besides, the competition allows room for error. You fail if you can't draw three formations. Missing one or two isn't the end of the world."

"I still think it's a bit too difficult."

"You're overthinking it. Don't forget—this is Dry Learning Prefecture. The one thing we're never short of… is talent."

"If you want to win the Formation Symposium, you'd better have real skills."

"Then it's settled. Let's shortlist a few options and present them to Master Wen for final approval."

"Excellent idea."

...

They were merely voicing their opinions.

But in the end, opinions were just that. The final decision rested entirely with the chief examiner—Master Wen.

Following the established procedure and the discussion that had just taken place, the group began selecting the exam topics.

They started from the Sixteen-Rune formations.

The Formation Symposium always began with the Sixteen-Rune level.

It was the threshold—designed to weed out the weak.

If a participant couldn't even handle a sixteen-rune formation, they weren't qualified to compete with the top-tier formation talents from the various sects.

But passing the Sixteen-Rune threshold would at least earn them a rank.

It wouldn't be a high one, but it was still a contribution to their sect.

From there, each additional rune made the formations significantly harder.

Each rune was a major hurdle that would eliminate a large number of contestants.

Especially near the end—between Eighteen and Nineteen Runes—the difficulty spike was vast, like a chasm.

Very few disciples could even draw a Nineteen-Rune formation.

Inside the Lun Dao Hall, the gathered formation elders were deep in thought—some flipping through scrolls, some lost in contemplation, others visibly struggling—as they carefully selected formations.

Per protocol, they would first list potential candidates, then narrow them down, and finally submit the selected ones to Master Wen.

Master Wen would make the final decision and seal the chosen exam topics in jade slips.

This process—selection by the elders, decision by the chief examiner—was considered fair for all involved.

Everything had to be finalized the night before the symposium. None of the elders would leave until the Formation Symposium officially concluded, which helped prevent leaks.

Time ticked by.

As the selection progressed from sixteen-rune arrays upward, the difficulty rose steadily...

Eventually, the process neared its end.

But when it came to selecting the final formation—a so-called "capstone" challenge, typically a formation beyond Nineteen Runes and near the peak of the Foundation Establishment Realm—Master Wen hesitated.

He was torn between several scrolls, looking back and forth, unable to make up his mind.

The others quietly waited.

But as time dragged on, one elder chuckled and said,

"Master Wen, this is your first time as chief examiner, isn't it?"

Master Wen, a middle-aged man with a gentle demeanor and a reputation for meticulousness, nodded.

"It is."

The elder smiled,

"There's no need to get too hung up on the final topic. It's mostly symbolic—a fallback. In all these years, no one's ever made it that far…"

"Forget the last one—even just finishing a few of the other Nineteen-Rune formations is rare enough."

"Most of these disciples are at the late stages of Foundation Establishment—very few are at the peak."

"Their divine sense can handle, at most, up to Eighteen Runes. Reaching Nineteen is already remarkable."

"Plus, this is a major exam."

"They start from Sixteen Runes and work their way up—it's a test of Dao heart, divine sense, endurance. The pressure of being watched by thousands adds to the burden. The farther they go, the harder it gets."

"Most of these sect disciples are from privileged backgrounds. They're not cut out for that kind of grind."

"So anyone who manages to reach the end and fully complete even a couple of Nineteen-Rune formations is one in a million."

"Let alone drawing the final one."

Master Wen asked,

"No one's ever done it?"

The elder confirmed,

"Never."

Another senior formation elder added,

"This capstone formation isn't even meant to be solved."

"It's meant to teach a lesson—that beyond every mountain is a taller one, and beyond every sky, another sky."

"The Dao of formations is vast and without end. There are formations they'll never finish—and others they'll never learn."

"As formation masters, they must stay humble and never grow arrogant. There's always more to climb."

"So the final formation is really just symbolic. Choose a hard one and be done with it—no need to agonize over it."

Master Wen nodded, taking the advice.

But being a meticulous person—some might say borderline obsessive—he found it hard to just "pick something." He did everything with principles, and once faced with a choice, he couldn't help but overthink.

So another incense stick's time passed.

Everyone quietly waited.

Master Wen finally snapped out of it, looking a little embarrassed.

Still, he couldn't bring himself to be casual. After some internal deliberation, he reasoned:

Since no disciple would be able to complete this final formation, and since it served only as a capstone… the only real standard should be difficulty.

And when it came to difficulty, nothing surpassed the Dao.

So, following his instincts, he picked the most obscure, most profound, and most technically complex formation from the pile—one that even touched on the underlying mechanics of spiritual energy—and sealed it in the jade slip.

With that, the exam topics were complete.

Master Wen reviewed everything one more time, then sealed all the exam scrolls with binding runes.

The Formation Symposium's topics were officially finalized.

Everyone let out a collective breath of relief.

"At last… done with all that."

"Time to finally relax."

"Tomorrow's the final event. Once it's over, the symposium will come to an end."

"With formations, what you know is what you know. If you can't draw it, you can't fake it."

"Tomorrow, we wrap it up cleanly. After that, no more stress or uncertainty."

"Honestly, we're basically done already."

—

Chattering lightly, they exited the hall together.

As chief examiner, Master Wen said warmly,

"You've all worked hard. I brought some wine from Dao Prefecture and arranged for a table of fine spiritual dishes. I hope you'll join me to enjoy good food and ease your fatigue."

It was his first time acting as chief examiner, but he understood the importance of courtesy and connection.

And given his reputation as a formation master from the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion, no one present would turn down the invitation.

In fact, under normal circumstances, they wouldn't even get the chance to socialize with someone of his status.

And after such a long day, a few drinks sounded like a dream.

One after another, the elders cupped their hands in thanks:

"Master Wen, you are too kind."

"Excellent, thank you for your generosity."

"We'll gladly accept!"

"Your hospitality is most welcome!"

So Master Wen summoned the attendants and held a feast in a side hall. Wine flowed freely, cups clinked, and stories of formation techniques and humorous tales filled the air.

After the banquet, the elders each returned to their rooms to rest.

Night settled peacefully. The moon shone in serene silence.

Everyone slept soundly…

…unaware of what tomorrow would bring.

...

One night passed.

The next day, just before dawn.

A faint streak of fish-belly white light lit up the skies above Great Void Mountain.

At its heart, Mo Hua, who had spent the entire night practicing array formations as usual, opened his eyes. The morning glow reflected in his clear pupils.

Today was the day of the Dao Symposium.

And he would be heading out—to participate in the Grand Formation Competition.

Before leaving, he made a special visit to the Elders' Hall to see Venerable Elder Xun and asked humbly:

"Elder, is there anything I should be especially careful about?"

"No need," Elder Xun replied.

At this point, there really wasn't anything left to prepare for.

Still, Mo Hua couldn't help feeling a bit nervous.

This was, after all, a major formation competition—and his first time participating in something of this scale. Naturally, his heart was filled with unease.

Elder Xun saw through him and advised:

"Just keep yourself composed. Do not rejoice in victory, nor be disheartened by defeat. Show some depth of character—don't worry about anything else. Just focus on drawing your formations."

"Just draw formations?"

"Yes," Elder Xun nodded. "Keep drawing—until the very end."

Mo Hua mulled it over for a moment, then nodded firmly.

"Understood, Elder."

"Then go," Elder Xun said.

"Mm." Mo Hua gave a respectful bow and set off.

As Elder Xun watched Mo Hua's departing figure, a faint gleam flickered in his aged, cloudy eyes.

This day has finally come…

—

Mo Hua left the Great Void Sect, heading straight for Lun Dao Mountain.

This was also Elder Xun's instruction—he was to go quietly, alone, without fanfare.

When he arrived at Lun Dao Mountain, a magnificent scene greeted his eyes—people surged like tides, horses and carriages flowed like dragons.

Many cultivators had gathered at Lun Dao Mountain. The scale of the event was enormous.

But compared to the Sword Symposium, this was actually considered relatively modest.

The Sword Symposium involved real combat—sword duels and magical battles, wind and blade, fire and ice, dazzling displays of supreme techniques and lethal clashes.

It was incredibly entertaining to watch.

No matter one's cultivation level—whether there for the thrill or for insight—everyone found it captivating.

But Formation, Alchemy, Talisman, and Craftsmanship competitions were a different matter. Their content was dry and technical. Without specialized knowledge, most people couldn't appreciate the depth or excitement at all.

Especially formations.

Formations were obscure and arcane.

Most cultivators who didn't specialize in formations would get headaches just seeing abstract formation patterns—watching someone draw them? Utterly boring.

However, this was the Qianxue Prefecture, a region with a long and rich tradition. Most disciples here had at least some basic understanding of formations.

And today marked the final event of the Dao Symposium—one that affected sect rankings, a matter of great importance.

Because of that, a fair number of cultivators still came to watch.

But at the moment, they were all held back outside the mountain gate.

Spectators wouldn't be allowed in at first.

Only the disciples participating in the Formation Competition were permitted to enter Lun Dao Mountain early.

Mo Hua was among them.

In his hand, he held a Jade Slip of Dao, given to him by Elder Xun. This jade slip represented a spot in the Formation Competition.

And it was a direct-invite exemption slot.

This slot was extremely precious.

Because formation contests were so dry and lacked entertainment value, this year's Symposium had been streamlined.

All the qualifying rounds had been conducted beforehand.

Those rounds had numerous criteria—such as cultivation level, formation master grade, elder recommendations, preliminary tests, etc.

This ensured that those who made it to the final Formation Competition were all elite disciples from their respective sects.

But Mo Hua's jade slip let him bypass all of that and go straight to the final exam.

Each sect only had a few such spots.

Sects lower in the rankings might not even get one.

So holding this weighty jade slip in hand, Mo Hua entered the gates of Lun Dao Mountain with the rest of the participants.

At the entrance, elders stood guard, checking each disciple's credentials one by one. Only after verification could they pass.

The long line was solemn and quiet, slowly inching forward.

When Mo Hua's turn came, he stepped up and handed his jade slip to the elder in charge.

The elder was clearly stunned at the sight of him. He took the jade slip with a dubious look, checked it multiple times, even called over others to verify it again and again—still seeming baffled.

In the end, he shook his head and let Mo Hua through, though not without a muttered complaint in his heart:

"What's the Great Void Sect thinking? Just throwing any disciple into the Dao Symposium…"

But Mo Hua paid it no mind. His expression remained calm as he walked into Lun Dao Mountain.

...

An hour later, all the participating disciples had entered the competition grounds.

Only then did the gates of Lun Dao Mountain fully open.

The attending clan elders, sect leaders, and cultivators from all sides—as well as countless disciples—flooded in like waves, swarming into the mountain.

(End of this Chapter)