Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 900: Omen of a Dream

Divine Marrow really is a good thing! Mo Hua mulled it over in his heart.

From what he had learned from Sister Xia, it was highly likely that each of those dozen or so Golden Core devil cultivators in the Demon Sect was harboring a Divine Husk.

These Divine Husks were like "blessings" granted by evil gods— And at the same time, they turned those cultivators into puppets.

But in Mo Hua's eyes, these cultivators were basically walking storage rings for divine marrow.

As long as he could kill them, he had a shot at getting that sweet divine juice.

However…

Mo Hua frowned. He wasn't sure which path was easier:

Killing Golden Core devil cultivators for divine marrow?

Or slaying evil embryos and refining the marrow that way?

Neither option sounded like a pleasant walk through the flower fields.

And honestly, slaying evil embryos might be the more realistic route—

At least he was already making steady progress along that path.

Trying to kill Golden Core cultivators, though… That wasn't just hard—it was practically suicide.

Even Uncle Gu, a Golden Core cultivator, nearly lost his life. And he, Mo Hua, was just a little Foundation Establishment junior.

In a third-grade province, where Golden Core cultivators clash… He'd be nothing more than a bug caught in the crossfire.

Hoping to harvest divine marrow by killing Golden Cores? Wishful thinking.

Mo Hua's brows furrowed deeper.

Still, he couldn't just ignore the matter.

Uncle Gu had gotten involved in too many things because of him.

That was probably why the evil god's faction had taken notice— Why those devil cultivators would even self-detonate their Golden Cores just to take him down with them…

Sure, Uncle Gu himself said it was his duty as a Dao Tribunal Magistrate to hunt down these heretics.

But honestly, this mess definitely had Mo Hua's fingerprints all over it.

If not for his chaotic presence, Uncle Gu wouldn't be so deeply entangled in these evil god schemes.

In the second-grade provinces, chasing peak-stage second-grade criminals was still manageable.

But now, as just an early-stage Golden Core Magistrate thrown into a third-grade province, expected to oppose the Bloodthirst Demon Sect, backed by over a dozen Golden Core devil cultivators?

The man was practically living in a blender of blood and blades. One wrong move and—splat—no more Uncle Gu.

Mo Hua sighed heavily.

Uncle Gu might act cold, but he was a genuinely good person. It'd be a shame if he died.

"Is there any way to help the Dao Tribunal hunt down Golden Core devil cultivators, protect Uncle Gu… and maybe earn a little divine marrow on the side?"

Okay, sure—the divine marrow was just a bonus.

He was mostly worried about Uncle Gu's safety.

Mo Hua nodded to himself.

But even after a long while of thinking… he came up blank.

Cultivation realms were like iron walls between cultivators.

When your cultivation wasn't enough, there were some things you just couldn't do, no matter how hard you tried.

And the gap between mid-stage Foundation Establishment and Golden Core?

Absolutely massive.

Mo Hua shook his head.

For now, he could only shelve the matter, and silently hope Uncle Gu would survive whatever was coming.

There really wasn't much he could do.

Two more days of cultivation passed, and the seven-day mark arrived.

It was time to head to the back mountain for more sword lessons from the Old Patriarch.

This time, Mo Hua had bathed, burned incense, made all the proper preparations, and was now sitting upright in his disciple's quarters, patiently waiting to be summoned.

But the void before him… remained perfectly still.

"What's going on?" Mo Hua was a little confused. "Did the old ancestor… forget?"

That seemed impossible.

"Or… did something happen to him?"

Mo Hua's heart grew heavy.

He waited a while longer, and just when he started thinking the ancestor wasn't going to summon him tonight…

The void finally began to ripple.

A deep-black spatial fissure tore open, and a withered hand shot out— grabbing Mo Hua by the collar.

The scene shifted, and Mo Hua found himself in the Sword Tomb once more.

He looked around. The back mountain was the same, the Sword Tomb was the same, and the ancient, seated figure of the ancestor was still there—unchanged.

"Practice your sword."

The ancestor's voice was as hoarse and ancient as ever, like dry stone echoing in the night.

Mo Hua hesitated a little and asked,

"Ancestor… what sword technique should I practice today?"

He had already learned the Divine Dread Sword.

"Start from the beginning. Practice everything I've taught you once more."

Mo Hua blinked.

"Start over?"

The old ancestor nodded.

"Using formations in place of a sword, walking an unorthodox path—that's good. But don't forget the foundation of swordsmanship."

"In the end, the Divine Soul Sword Art is still a sword technique. Practicing more never hurts."

That… did make sense.

His "cheaty" divine-sense-into-sword technique matched his path perfectly, but the foundations of swordsmanship were still important.

In cultivation, as in life—mastery starts with the basics.

Formations and sword arts both held profound principles. Best to grind both without complaint.

Still… there was something off about the old ancestor's attitude.

It was like… he was worried about something.

But Mo Hua didn't pry. He just buried himself in sword practice.

Just like the old days, he went back to the start, grounding himself in each motion and movement.

The sword techniques were more focused on body tempering, and the power wasn't great—but good enough for training the fundamentals.

After over an hour, the session came to an end, and Mo Hua prepared to leave.

But the old ancestor, after a moment of silence, suddenly pointed at his own forehead, and used a thread of sword intent to draw a circle on the ground.

This circle radiated a sword intent so deep it surrounded both Mo Hua and the ancestor.

Only then did the old man speak:

"Mo Hua…"

He paused, his voice suddenly cold:

"Last time you came… what did I teach you?"

Mo Hua froze, pupils contracting slightly, then carefully answered:

"You taught me the method of severing the life soul… To cut away the ego, realize the origin, Transform the sword path… and attain the Great Dao."

The old ancestor fell silent.

Mo Hua hesitated, and ultimately swallowed back the words "Supreme Severing of Emotion".

Instead, he asked,

"Is something wrong, Ancestor?"

The old man didn't answer. His expression turned deadly serious—so grave it was frightening.

"Mo Hua, remember this: From now on, whatever I teach you—never believe it fully. Think things through yourself. Hold fast to your heart."

Mo Hua frowned.

"Ancestor…"

But before he could speak further, the old man's solemn expression suddenly vanished, replaced by that same detached calm— As if nothing in the world could bother him.

No sorrow, no joy.

No attachment, no thought.

Mo Hua held back his words.

The old ancestor drew a line with his finger, breaking the circle of sword intent. He raised his gaze—calm, but with a strange trace of… approval?

"What did I just teach you?"

Mo Hua paused, then replied,

"You taught me the method to sever the life soul."

The ancestor nodded.

"Good. Learn it well."

Mo Hua didn't press any further. He bowed respectfully.

"Then… I take my leave."

The ancestor gave him a strange look of silent appreciation, then tore open space and sent him away.

Once again, the Sword Tomb was quiet.

Only the old ancestor remained. His figure seemed lonelier than ever— Even slightly hunched.

Under the cold moonlight, his solitude was striking.

His expression flickered between contradiction and despair— At times cold, at times confused, sometimes furrowed in anguish, and sometimes utterly blank, without a trace of emotion.

Within this storm of inner turmoil, he whispered bitterly:

"I should never have taught him anything… From the beginning… I should have taught him nothing…"

"Junior Brother was right… I was wrong again…"

"The Divine Soul Sword Art… Must not be learned…"

"That... thing, those beings—should never have been touched. They were sealed away so well… It was me. I opened the door for them…"

"I found them a good seedling…"

"If he hadn't practiced it, nothing would have happened. But once he started—the stronger the sword, the stronger the demon. A never-ending battle, one that can't be severed…"

"It's my fault."

"This sword technique… it really should've been sealed away forever. Buried with me in this Sword Tomb, turned to bones, turned to dust."

"I…"

At that point, Old Ancestor Dugu began to cough violently.

His face twisted, his features blurred—his eyes, nose, and mouth vanishing—leaving behind only a faceless skin mask.

And yet… on that faceless skin, he was clearly smiling:

"I taught him well!"

"The seed has already been planted…"

"He's begun—he's already started to sever…"

"Sever it all! Cut away the self, cut away humanity, cut away every emotional tie, all karma—slice it all clean!"

The "Old Ancestor Dugu" began to chuckle softly—

A strange, genderless laugh that echoed through the Sword Tomb like a ghost from the Nine Hells.

In the disciples' quarters.

Mo Hua furrowed his brows.

He was now almost certain that something was seriously wrong with the old ancestor.

But what exactly had gone wrong… he couldn't say.

His current cultivation still had a whole mountain between him and the Golden Core Realm, let alone the Hollow Void Realm, where beings like the old ancestor resided.

More importantly, he didn't know what he could do.

If he intervened recklessly, it might just make things worse.

Mo Hua thought it over for a long time… In the end, he could only decide to wait and observe.

He knew his limits.

If even Old Ancestor Dugu couldn't resolve it himself, what chance did he have?

For now, he could only follow the ancestor's instructions— Practice his sword diligently.

Although when it came to sword practice…

Mo Hua recalled what the old ancestor had told him earlier:

"From now on, don't blindly believe anything I teach you. Think for yourself. Hold fast to your heart…"

Don't blindly believe.

Think things through.

Hold to your heart…

Mo Hua reflected carefully—and immediately realized: The old ancestor was probably trying to warn him in secret— To be cautious with some techniques.

Especially that mysterious "Supreme Severing of Emotion Dao"…

He still wasn't sure whether the old man had truly passed that to him.

"Good thing I was cautious… kept a shred of awareness."

Mo Hua let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Now that he thought about it, his cultivation methods hadn't really violated the old ancestor's advice of:

"Don't blindly believe, think for yourself, stay true to your heart."

So far, so good.

He considered things a bit longer, but anything related to the Hollow Void Realm was like mist on a mountaintop—hazy and unreachable.

Mo Hua sighed again and decided to set it aside for now.

After that, he returned to his usual schedule. Diligently cultivating and practicing both the God-Slaying Sword and the Severing Emotion Dao together.

As a mid-stage Foundation Establishment senior disciple, he also joined the later-stage disciples in attending the advanced lessons of the Great Void Sect.

When he had free time, he went to check on Yu'er.

Ever since the incident at the Gu Clan, Yu'er had been disturbed. He'd had a nightmare and hadn't been doing well mentally since.

In Yu'er's room…

Mo Hua sat at Yu'er's bedside. He had set up a few divine formations and lit a stick of calming incense—something he'd specially asked Mr. Mei for.

A tranquil scent spread through the room.

"You've been frightened. Your soul's unstable. Don't worry about learning formations for now—just rest. You can catch up on lessons later," Mo Hua said gently.

Yu'er obediently nodded.

"Okay, Brother Mo."

Mo Hua smiled, turned to leave— But suddenly, Yu'er grabbed his sleeve.

"Brother Mo…"

Mo Hua turned back with a warm look.

"What is it? Still having nightmares?"

Yu'er gently shook his head, but his expression still held some lingering fear.

Mo Hua reached out and patted his head.

"It's alright. I'll stay with you a bit. Go ahead and sleep."

"Mm." Yu'er gave a small nod.

He closed his eyes.

His little face was delicate and soft, and with his eyes shut, he looked like a gentle, fluffy lamb.

But before long, Yu'er opened his eyes again.

In those clear eyes, there was a deer-like panic, full of anxious energy.

Mo Hua blinked. "What is it?"

Yu'er hesitated, then asked:

"Brother Mo… will something happen to you?"

Mo Hua was a little confused.

"Happen? What do you mean?"

Yu'er said quietly: "Like… will you be in danger?"

Mo Hua was puzzled but replied honestly: "Everyone in this world faces danger at some point. I've had my share, too—but I've made it through. So you don't need to worry too much."

"Okay." Yu'er nodded slowly.

Mo Hua looked at him and asked softly: "Yu'er… are you keeping something from me?"

Yu'er's face paled slightly. He bit his lip hard— Then after a long moment, he finally whispered:

"Brother Mo… am I… a Divine Fetus?"

Mo Hua's pupils shrank violently.

A chill crept up in his heart— But he still kept his voice calm:

"Who told you that?"

Yu'er shook his head.

"No one told me… I… heard it in a dream…"

"A dream?"

"Mm," Yu'er said softly, "That day at the Gu Family… Uncle Gu suddenly became really scary. His eyes were black, and red too. He looked at me once, and I started having nightmares after that."

"When you came, Brother Mo, I felt a lot better… But then, I still had some nightmares, off and on."

"In the dream, there were… a lot of mountains, a lot of monsters… covered in blood…"

"It seemed like… people were talking, too…"

"They were saying something about awakening… something about a rabbit… about crying… about one mountain, one river, one person…"

"They also said lots of people were going to die… blood would flow into the rivers, bones would be stacked into towers, flesh would build the cities… everything would be connected…"

"And they said… it was all because of me."

"Because of me, everyone was going to die… all of them…"

Yu'er's face grew paler and paler, his body trembling, overcome by guilt and terror. Teardrops welled in the corners of his eyes.

Mo Hua's heart ached. He gently smiled and patted Yu'er's head.

"It was just a dream. Dreams often show the opposite of reality. Everyone's going to be just fine. No need to worry."

Yu'er's eyes brimmed with tears, but he nodded.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then asked:

"Yu'er, do you know what demons and evil spirits are?"

Yu'er tilted his head, then nodded slowly.

"Are those the things from my dream?"

"Yes." Mo Hua nodded. "Demons and evil spirits are best at deceiving the heart. They take advantage of your fear, your worries, your uncertainty—to lie to you and twist your mind."

"Everything they say is a lie."

"The more scared you are, the more they'll bully you. But if your heart is strong, they won't dare deceive you."

He lifted a delicate eyebrow.

"And besides… all the evil spirits and monsters in this world—before your Brother Mo—they're nothing but clay chickens and straw dogs. I only need one sword, and I'll cut them all down."

"Next time they try to trick you, just tell me. I'll make sure they're all slaughtered—clean and clear."

There was a gentle but deadly intent in Mo Hua's voice.

Yu'er's eyes brightened. He felt much calmer and gave Mo Hua a grateful smile and nod.

"Alright, get some proper rest. Once your spirit recovers, no evil thoughts can disturb you," Mo Hua said gently.

Yu'er nodded obediently, then slowly closed his eyes.

Mo Hua stayed at his side until Yu'er fell soundly asleep, and only then did he quietly leave the room.

Even after Mo Hua left, Yu'er was still peacefully asleep.

But not long after, his brows began to furrow in his sleep again.

In the depths of his dreams, a sharp, wicked voice slithered into his ears:

"He's lying to you…"

"He's just a Foundation cultivator—how many evil spirits can he possibly slay?"

"There are endless monsters out there. One day, he too will be devoured—his blood drained, his flesh eaten, his bones chewed to dust…"

"And all of it… is your fault."

"He wants to save you… but he doesn't know…"

"…You're the real monster."

Dreaming, Yu'er's face twisted in terror.

"I'm not…" he murmured.

"You are!"

That sinister voice dug deeper into his mind:

"You were never supposed to be born. As long as you're alive—your mother, your Uncle Gu, your Brother Mo—they'll all die."

"The more you tell them… the sooner they die."

"They'll all die because of you…"

Yu'er curled into a ball, tears soaking the bedding, and whispered:

"I don't want Mother to die… I don't want Brother Mo to die… I…"

Back in the disciples' quarters.

Mo Hua's face was grim, still thinking about Yu'er.

"Strange…" he muttered.

"No sign of evil aura, no karmic backlash, no parasitic godly presence… Then why is Yu'er still having nightmares? Why can he hear voices…?"

"Could it be… the Evil God is about to awaken?"

"And those things Yu'er said—what did they mean?"

"The crying rabbit? One mountain, one river, one person?

Blood in the river, bones into towers, flesh into cities…

Could these be omens?"

A strange sense of urgency welled in Mo Hua's heart.

He had only the vaguest outline of the Evil God's plan… But the deeper truth was still out of reach.

Now, it seemed that the Evil God's awakening might be far more brutal, more gruesome, and much grander in scale than he'd imagined.

To the point where… maybe everyone really would die?

Mo Hua tried to investigate further, but he had no leads.

The Blood Oath List had been erased. The Evil God's Foundation-level followers had all been wiped out—down to their very souls.

The only one left… was that mysterious Young Master.

But the Young Master remained hidden, never exposing himself.

The Golden Core cultivators in the demonic sect—Mo Hua couldn't touch them.

And there were no other clear leads anywhere else…

After calculating every possibility, Mo Hua realized— there was nothing he could do.

He could only calm his heart, continue cultivating, and hone his sword.

More than a month passed.

By now, Gu Changhuai's injuries had healed significantly.

As a Golden Core cultivator with a solid foundation, and with the Gu Clan's wealth and access to high-grade medicine, he recovered well.

Although his divine sense was still weakened, and his meridians bore lingering pain—he couldn't yet fight at full strength.

Logically speaking, he should've stayed home to recuperate.

But Gu Changhuai was stubborn—and a total workaholic. As soon as he could walk, he returned to his post at the Dao Court Office.

Mo Hua was worried.

Last time, Uncle Gu had been lucky.

But next time?

There might not be a next time—he could really lose his life…

A wounded Dao Court enforcer, in the open, versus over ten Golden Core demonic cultivators lurking in the shadows?

It was a miracle he survived once. A second time?

Impossible odds.

But worrying did no good.

Time continued to tick away.

Mo Hua's cultivation was still stuck.

His Divine Thought Sword Art still needed work.

The Evil God's plan was likely still moving forward in the dark.

The Dao Court still fought to exterminate the demonic sects.

Uncle Gu remained mired in the bloody chaos.

And Yu'er… wasn't as cheerful anymore.

Mo Hua felt like the situation was gradually slipping beyond his control— And he was powerless to stop it.

Until one day, Cheng Mo handed him a strange token.

(End of this Chapter)