Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 884: The First

The entire arena was silent.

The elders of the Four Great Sects felt a chill creeping into their hearts.

That previously unknown little disciple, sitting quietly in the corner of the arena, now seemed to exude a chillingly oppressive presence.

It was as if some terrifying monster was slumbering inside his frail-looking body.

The spectators around the field didn't feel it as strongly—

—but those who had competed alongside Mo Hua, from the sixteen-pattern formation onward, especially the top prodigies of the Four Great Sects, could clearly feel a heavy and mounting pressure.

From the Heavenly Dao Sect, there was Shen Juncai:

A peak Foundation Establishment cultivator with nineteen-pattern spiritual sense.

Among this generation of disciples in the Heavenly Dao Sect, he was the undisputed genius in the Dao of Formations.

Since childhood, his clan had praised him as a natural-born talent, and even the family patriarch regarded him as a future grand formation master of limitless potential.

And he had indeed proven this.

Whether compared to fellow Shen clan members, to the disciples of other noble houses, or even to the geniuses across all of the Nine Provinces within the Heavenly Dao Sect—he was always ranked among the very best.

He needed only to prove himself once more.

Right here at this Dao Discussion Conference, in front of all eyes, he would claim first place in the formation path—a reward for years of effort and cultivation, and a testament to his unparalleled talent. This was to be the first step of his ascent to the pinnacle of the Formation Dao.

His future was destined to be as boundless as a flood dragon rising to the heavens.

And he knew clearly who his strongest competitors were:

Xiao Yi of the Heavenly Sword Sect: a sword-forging prodigy from a renowned clan, with nineteen-pattern spiritual sense, famed for his offensive and weapon-type killing formations.

Ao Li of the Dragon Cauldron Sect: tall and burly, seemingly crude but actually a methodical formation master who specialized in heavy defensive formations ideal for body cultivators.

Duanmu Xue of the Myriad Skies Sect: quiet and elegant, possessing the strongest spiritual sense among them—even exceeding the nineteen-pattern level. While not dramatically so, it gave her a significant edge when dealing with obscure and complex formation theories.

These three were the biggest obstacles standing in Shen Juncai's way to becoming the top of the formation path.

He knew he was slightly behind each of them in one specialization or another—whether in killing, defense, or complexity.

But his strength lay in having no weaknesses.

His breadth of formation knowledge, depth of spiritual sense, and versatility far exceeded that of his peers.

He might not be the absolute best in every category, but he was close—and his comprehensive capability made him a wall of solid iron, almost unbreakable.

And besides—

He was from the Shen Clan.

The Shen Clan was known for its strategic thinking and calculating minds.

Thus, he had already simulated countless scenarios in his mind for seizing first place in this tournament—carefully planning how to use the three chances for error to their fullest.

By playing strategically—abandoning a few overly difficult formations, conserving his mental energy, and focusing on those he was confident in—he could outlast his rivals and seize victory.

As long as the other three sects' prodigies fell before him, he would claim the title.

But now… all of that was shattered.

Because out of nowhere, a completely unexpected and baffling opponent had emerged.

Shen Juncai didn't even need to look—he could feel it: that cold and terrifying pressure.

At first, it was faint.

But at some point, it began to build… and by the time he realized it, it was too late.

A shadow loomed over him, cold creeping down his spine.

That Taixu Sect disciple in the corner didn't seem human—he was more like a formation monster.

That boy sat there, emotionless, indifferent, drawing formation after formation without a hint of hesitation.

What's more—he hadn't made a single mistake.

In this situation, planning for errors was meaningless.

Choosing which formations to skip? Pointless.

If Shen Juncai wanted first place now, there was only one path:

He had to draw every single nineteen-pattern formation, no matter what.

Even if he didn't know them.

Even if he might draw them wrong.

He had to draw them anyway.

Otherwise, the only fate waiting for him was defeat.

The pressure descended like a mountain.

The prodigies of the Four Great Sects were now forced to go all out, with no room left to retreat.

And it wasn't just Shen Juncai—

Xiao Yi, Ao Li, Duanmu Xue—

These absolute elites of the Formation Dao… were now all shrouded beneath a massive, inescapable shadow.

Their hearts raced, their faces pale, nerves stretched to the breaking point.

Under the silent yet overwhelming pressure radiating from Mo Hua, these top geniuses could only focus with everything they had—spiritual sense, attention, heart and soul—all poured into their formations.

This was no longer just a clash between geniuses.

It was a crushing domination by a monster, trampling over geniuses.

The elders of the Four Great Sects all looked as if they'd swallowed bitter medicine.

The situation had spiraled out of control, and by the time they realized it, it was already too late.

Only two rounds into the nineteen-pattern test…

And now, only the Four Great Sect prodigies, and that demon from Taixu Sect, were still standing.

And the momentum was clearly… turning against them.

Everyone outside the arena was holding their breath, not even daring to exhale.

The disciples of the Taixu Sect were both excited and anxious.

Only now did they realize—

Their Little Senior Brother could actually go toe-to-toe with the top formation prodigies of the Four Great Sects.

And he was only mid-stage Foundation Establishment.

At the same time, a nearly ridiculous thought flashed through everyone's mind—

Could Little Senior Brother… actually win?

If he won again, wouldn't that make him…

Number One in the Formation Dao?

Since the founding of the Taixu Sect, no disciple had ever claimed that title.

All of them held their breath; their hearts skipped a beat.

Murong Caiyun bit her lip hard, her fingers clenched so tightly they turned pale.

Elder Xun Ziyou and Elder Xun Zixian sat bolt upright, while the other elders stared fixedly at the grand arena, not daring to blink.

Forget the junior disciples—even these several-hundred-year-old elders were so tense their hearts were about to leap out of their chests.

The nineteen-pattern formation exam continued in the arena.

The test formations varied: killing arrays, trapping arrays, defensive arrays, and deeply complex theoretical arrays.

The Four Sect prodigies, and the lone boy in the corner—Mo Hua—all continued drawing silently.

But only those from the Four Great Sects knew the true agony of this battle.

No one outside could imagine the kind of suffocating pressure one had to endure, competing directly against this formation monster.

It was like drowning.

They could no longer afford to skip formations.

They could no longer rely on forgiveness of errors.

No matter what the formation—familiar or not, simple or complex—they had to draw it perfectly.

And they couldn't afford to make even a single mistake.

Meanwhile, Mo Hua was like a reef in a stormy sea—completely unshaken. Unmoving. Unbelievably steady.

He had long practiced under Venerable Elder Xun, simulating the entire exam process from start to finish multiple times.

He was prepared.

From the very beginning of the tournament, he had seized every spare moment to recover his spiritual sense.

Thus, even at this stage, he still had ample reserves.

Drawing nineteen-pattern formations posed no difficulty for him.

With Elder Xun's personal guidance and Mo Hua's tireless effort day and night, he had forged an unshakable foundation in the formation path.

This depth and mastery were unimaginable to ordinary cultivators.

It was enough to tackle any kind of formation thrown at him—from Five Elements to Eight Trigrams, from offense to defense, from production to confusion—no matter the form or type.

He didn't need to plan, calculate, pick and choose, or avoid anything.

He just needed to draw.

If there was a question—he answered.

If there was a formation—he drew.

Draw them all, and he would be number one.

The exam continued.

Mo Hua kept drawing—from sixteen-patterns all the way to nineteen.

He hadn't made a single mistake. Not even a single misplaced stroke.

No matter how hard the formation, he accepted it without hesitation.

His spiritual sense still seemed unfathomably deep.

The Four Sect prodigies had gone from shock, to respect, to dread, and now to despair.

They now realized— This younger boy, this "monster" of the Taixu Sect, could draw any formation.

And he would draw them flawlessly.

Not a single formation missed. Not a single stroke wrong.

And even now, his spiritual sense remained vast and boundless—as if limitless.

He was a terrifying enemy, one that could not be defeated.

A mountain so tall, it pierced the clouds—

And they couldn't even see how high it went.

The pride they'd carried since childhood as heaven's chosen ones—was crumbling.

Their Dao hearts were collapsing.

And a shadow was settling in, one that they could not chase away.

Shen Juncai of the Heavenly Dao Sect—face white as paper.

Xiao Yi of the Heavenly Sword Sect—no longer composed, his hand holding the formation brush trembling uncontrollably.

Ao Li of the Dragon Cauldron Sect—sweating profusely, head pounding.

Duanmu Xue of the Myriad Skies Sect—her face like frost, expression filled with despair.

...

Under this terrifying, crushing pressure— The Dragon Cauldron Sect… was the first to fall.

He had drawn the wrong formation—three in total—and was eliminated.

The second was the Heavenly Sword Sect.

The Cloud Mountain Rainfall Array with nineteen runes was obscure and rare. He couldn't draw it, and truly had no confidence to persist any longer.

The third to fall was Duanmu Xue from the Myriad Skies Sect.

But Shen Juncai of the Heavenly Dao Sect… held out until the very end.

Yet that was all he could manage.

His spiritual sense was nearly depleted—he no longer had the strength to draw another array.

Before his defeat, he mustered his courage and turned to glance at Mo Hua, who was seated quietly in the corner.

Mo Hua's face was perfectly calm.

Moreover, he remembered Venerable Elder Xun's instructions: suppress his emotions, show some depth. So he kept a straight face, his gaze indifferent, his expression cold and unreadable.

But in Shen Juncai's eyes, this appeared as the very embodiment of a formation "monster"—neither joyful nor sorrowful, caring not for gain or loss, treating the living as straw dogs… utterly indifferent and devoid of emotion.

The shadow in his heart now had a face.

He trembled as he slowly set down his brush, sighing.

"I… lost."

With that, the array prodigies of the four great sects had all fallen.

Only Mo Hua remained in the entire Great Dao Arena.

At first, there was a dead silence all around—then like oil poured into fire, an eruption of voices. The entire Mount Dao Debate roared to life like a mountain collapsing or a tidal wave crashing.

"It's over?!"

"Holy crap, what the hell did I just witness?!"

"Mid Foundation Establishment… ranked first in formations?!"

"He crushed the Four Great Sects?!"

"This is absolutely off the charts!"

"Has the Dry Learning Province ever seen something like this before?!"

"Did I… just unknowingly witness history in the making for the entire province?!"

"My life is complete…"

Mount Dao Debate boiled over completely.

The elders of the Four Great Sects, however, sat frozen like clay or stone statues—motionless, save for their trembling hands.

Outside, the atmosphere was ablaze, but their hearts felt like the bitter cold of late winter—numb and freezing.

The disciples of the Great Void Sect were also in stunned disbelief.

"We… really won?"

"Our Great Void Sect… is number one in formations?!"

"Our little senior brother… is the head of the path of formations?!"

"That same little senior brother who loves chicken legs and is only mid-Foundation Establishment… now stands atop all formation prodigies in the entire province?!"

"Tell me this isn't a dream!"

"Someone slap me—wait, no, don't—I'm afraid I'll wake up…"

All around them, the high-ranking members of the various noble families watching the competition were completely stunned.

Even the three patriarchs—Wenren Jingxuan, Shangguan Ce, and Gu Shouyan—men who had lived for centuries and weathered countless storms, felt their minds shaken to the core.

Someone had actually wrestled this fat prize out of the jaws of the Four Great Sects?

No—he hadn't just wrestled it. He'd swallowed them whole. In absolute domination, he seized first place in the path of formations…

Inside the main hall of the arena—

All the examiners looked at one another, expressions of shock and confusion clearly written on each face.

After a long silence, someone shook their head and sighed:

"This is… truly unbelievable…"

"Inconceivable…"

"There are countless geniuses in the Dry Learning Province, but only now do I understand what a real genius looks like."

"My eyes have been opened…"

"Mid Foundation Establishment—how is that still human?"

"A mid-Foundation Establishment disciple, first in the entire path of formations…"

One examiner gasped, "It's true… in this world, all sorts of unimaginable things can really happen…"

Even Master Wen, the formation grandmaster from the Heavenly Pivot Pavilion, was stunned silent, unable to find words.

Everyone was still discussing and marveling…

Suddenly, an examiner asked, "Why is that child still sitting there?"

They all turned toward the sound and noticed—Mo Hua, who had already won, was still sitting calmly in his seat, unmoving and expressionless.

He figured he'd probably won.

But since it was his first time at a Formation Debate, he wasn't quite clear on the rules. He didn't know whether there were more rounds ahead.

What if he left too early and the examiners decided he lost by default?

Venerable Elder Xun had given him a lot of advice, but ironically, never told him what to do if he actually won and took first place.

So he just waited—for someone to officially announce the end.

But what he didn't know was that his unfathomable formation skills, combined with his cold, aloof demeanor, had unintentionally caused a massive "misunderstanding" for those watching.

The examiners began to whisper amongst themselves:

"He's already won… and he still won't come up. What does that mean?"

In past years, any disciple who won first in the path of formations would be overjoyed and honored to come up to the hall and receive their prize from the chief examiner.

But he wouldn't budge. Were they supposed to go to him?

That would break all protocol.

"Could it be… he still wants to keep drawing?!" one examiner guessed.

"No way… is he really that conceited?"

"With a prodigy like this, his mindset must be different. Strange thoughts are to be expected."

"Monsters like him think in strange ways—you can't judge them by common standards."

"Should we… keep testing him?"

All the examiners looked at each other—then turned toward the chief examiner, Master Wen.

Master Wen looked at Mo Hua, eyes deep in thought, before finally saying slowly:

"Though the Formation Debate is a competition among disciples, its core purpose is not to simply outshine others."

"It's about treating the challenges of formation—the craft itself—as a lifelong opponent."

"To constantly overcome difficulties, surpass one's limits, and climb the mountain of formation mastery."

"That is the true spirit of the Formation Debate—not to be better than others, but to be better than yourself."

"So long as there's one disciple still being tested, the Formation Debate is not over."

All the examiners nodded with emotion.

"Master Wen is absolutely right."

"In that case—let him continue!"

"I want to see just how many more formations this kid can draw! From sixteen-rune to nineteen-rune, nonstop—how much further can he go? Is his spiritual sense really made of iron?!"

"Exactly. There's always a higher peak. Even the most gifted genius must understand this, or they'll hit a wall someday…"

"Then let the test continue."

"Agreed!"

And so the Formation Debate continued—with only Mo Hua left as a contestant.

The onlooking cultivators looked bewildered.

"Wasn't it already over? Why are they still testing?"

"Did the rules change? Is this a bonus round?"

"No idea…"

No one understood what was going on, so they just kept watching in confused silence.

Mo Hua was also a little surprised.

He had thought the test was done—yet here was another challenge.

Still, he wasn't about to refuse.

If there were more formations to draw, then he would keep drawing.

Venerable Elder Xun had told him not to worry about anything else—just keep drawing until the end.

And drawing formations just happened to be what Mo Hua did best.

So Mo Hua kept going, drawing one formation after another.

Thus, the Formation Debate resumed—in this rather bizarre fashion.

Very soon, however, the examiners' expressions began to change.

Mo Hua was still going. He was still drawing.

These nineteen-rune formations already encompassed nearly all formation types within sect legacies, and the difficulty was nearly at its peak.

Yet Mo Hua continued drawing them—precisely, effortlessly, without any hesitation.

If this weren't the Dry Learning Province, if this weren't the Dao Debate Mountain, and if there weren't so many Nascent Soul elders watching…

They would've assumed this was some demonic old monster from beyond the Void Realm who had possessed a junior's body just to cause trouble at the Formation Debate.

But clearly, that wasn't the case.

This young man, monstrous as he seemed, had a righteous and clear aura. He was most definitely a legitimate cultivator.

And at this moment, he was still seriously, meticulously drawing each formation.

Three more nineteen-rune formations were completed—just like that.

And by the looks of it, Mo Hua could still keep going.

All the examiners looked grave.

The Four Great Sects had already fallen. Now, the pressure of this genius had silently transferred… onto them.

Time passed slowly.

And just like that, with no surprises—but at the same time, to everyone's disbelief—Mo Hua continued drawing, formation after formation, until he reached the final "capstone" formation.

Now, everyone's heart was on edge.

Capstone. The name said it all. It was the summit, the ceiling. This monstrous little freak couldn't possibly… blow the roof off too, right?

All the examiners turned toward Master Wen, waiting for him to present the "capstone" challenge.

This final question had been personally prepared by Master Wen—and he alone knew what it was.

No one else had been informed beforehand.

At the same time, they all silently regretted it.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have rushed Master Wen last night—we should've let him take his time and pick the hardest one."

"Who said, 'Just pick anything'? What a dumb idea…"

"How the hell was I supposed to know this would happen?!"

Some elders couldn't help but curse under their breath.

But it was too late now.

Master Wen wore a serious expression as he slowly opened the final test.

This "capstone" formation was inscribed on a jade slip of white jade and gold—a refined, ceremonial piece.

This jade slip was a symbol of sorts—used for years in Formation Debates, yet never once had it been unsealed.

Today, it would see the light of day for the first time.

With uneasy hearts, the examiners leaned in to inspect the jade slip—and upon reading the question, finally exhaled in relief.

"As expected of Master Wen… thorough and cautious."

"Indeed. Thank goodness we had Master Wen overseeing this…"

"This capstone formation was chosen brilliantly."

"No sect in the entire province teaches this one. That monster definitely hasn't learned it—he won't be able to draw it…"

Relieved, the examiners settled their nerves.

But when the challenge was presented to Mo Hua—he did freeze.

It was a second-grade formation he had never seen before. Venerable Elder Xun had never taught him this one. It was completely beyond his existing knowledge.

Mo Hua's brush halted.

For the first time since the debate began, he stopped drawing.

This formation had stumped him—he truly couldn't draw it.

But he had encountered many strange, obscure, and difficult formations before—his experience was deep and broad.

Mo Hua began studying the formation diagram on the capstone jade slip.

This was a second-grade formation Master Wen had carefully chosen for its difficulty.

Its spiritual sense requirement was at the peak of nineteen-rune level.

Beyond that, its rune structure was extremely complex, and its meanings obscure.

Its overall composition was unorthodox—far removed from the current orthodox formation lineages within the Dry Learning Province (at least those that disciples were allowed to study).

It even contained rules pertaining to spiritual power transformation.

In fact—it was bordering on the realm of a forbidden formation...

Spiritual power transformation… Half-step forbidden formation…

Mo Hua's eyes lit up slightly, then his pupils deepened. He began to dissect the runes, formation nodes, and cores of the array—analyzing, breaking down, and deducing…

And soon, bit by bit, Mo Hua extracted the essence of the spiritual transformation hidden deep in the capstone formation's structure:

Spiritual power…

Inverse transformation!

(End of this Chapter)