Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 914: Slash!

"Finally, I can break through to the Late Foundation Establishment stage!"

Mo Hua was ecstatic.

On a remote peak outside Great Void Mountain, Mo Hua, as always, set up his meditation mat and array. Once all was prepared, he sat down and opened the Five Elements Diagram.

The moment the diagram unfurled, in just the blink of an eye, a wave of fierce evil aura surged into Mo Hua's sea of consciousness like a raging river.

Before he could even react, his face paled, his head slumped down, and he passed out in a daze.

Within his sea of consciousness, Mo Hua opened his eyes.

In front of him—stood a divine cadaver.

This one was thinner than the previous ones—not quite as muscular or grotesque.

It had its back to him, shoulders twitching slightly… as if chewing something.

"Only one? Shouldn't there be two?" Mo Hua frowned, thought for a moment, then shook his head. "Forget it. One it is. I'll eat first, ask later."

The divine cadaver was before him—a single sword strike would do the trick.

Not wanting to waste time, Mo Hua conjured a blade of spiritual will, and with a flash, closed the distance and slashed toward its skull.

The divine cadaver seemed to sense something and froze—but didn't have time to turn around.

The razor-sharp sword of pure divine will came slashing down at its head.

A tremendous wave of spiritual force rippled outward, shaking the surroundings for an instant.

But then, Mo Hua's expression changed.

The unstoppable sword was caught—seized by a sharp claw, as if wedged into solid stone, unable to go further.

At the same time, a terrifying aura erupted from the divine cadaver.

Mo Hua's pupils shrank. He dissolved the sword and retreated.

The divine cadaver slowly rose to its feet and turned to face him.

Its face was a skull, with long twisted horns, and crimson eyes glowing with a cold, mad killing intent. It had a humanoid form—lean, but brimming with terrifying power.

Its body dripped with a mix of filthy black water and rancid blood, giving off an aura of dread.

These fluids had soaked into its very bones, forming what looked like armor.

"Third Grade…"

Mo Hua's heart jumped. His expression turned grim.

The cadaver turned fully toward him, releasing its overwhelming presence.

And then Mo Hua saw the black blood at the corners of its mouth—the half-chewed "flesh" made of spiritual will between its teeth, and gnawed bone scraps on the ground…

So there had been two divine cadavers.

And this one had eaten the other.

"You even devour your own kin?" Mo Hua asked calmly.

The divine cadaver stared back, its red eyes steady. Its voice was raspy and hollow, filled with killing intent, but unusually calm:

"There are no kin among divine cadavers. It's kill or be killed. Only the one who survives becomes a 'god.'"

"We are all one to begin with. It was me, and I am it. Whether it eats me, or I eat it—the result is the same."

Mo Hua frowned slightly.

That sentence held a wealth of meaning—hinting at the ecosystem of divine cadavers, and the brutal inner competition of the Evil Gods.

The cadaver finished chewing and swallowed the last bit of remains, then looked up coldly:

"So… it was you. Hunting me?"

There was a faint killing intent in its words.

Mo Hua's gaze sharpened, just about to respond—but the cadaver suddenly vanished.

Alarm bells rang in his mind. The next instant, a claw flashed in front of him.

Mo Hua raised a fist and struck back, but it felt like punching solid rock. A crushing force shook him.

Cracks appeared on his pale fist.

He was sent flying several zhang before he managed to barely regain his footing.

"So fast! So strong!"

His heart clenched.

"Its spiritual will… far surpasses mine!"

"This is… a Third Grade Divine Cadaver!"

After knocking him back, the cadaver's tall, ghastly figure reappeared—grinning, almost playfully.

"A divine fetus… already bearing divinity. No wonder you, a mere Second Grade, could hunt divine cadavers so easily."

"But that can't be all…"

As it finished speaking, it vanished again.

Mo Hua's instincts screamed danger. His fingers tapped the ground, forming a spiritual array: a golden bell materialized.

But just as it formed, a blood-claw slashed through it, shattering it instantly.

The brief delay gave Mo Hua just enough time to retreat—barely dodging the cadaver's claw by a hair's breadth.

"A divine ability? No… an array?"

The cadaver's voice held surprise—but its assault didn't pause. It turned into a blood shadow and rushed in again.

Mo Hua activated his Flowing Water Steps, dodging as he channeled his willpower and formed a water prison with six watery chains that trapped the cadaver.

"A spell? Impressive…"

The cadaver struggled—chains snapped, and it broke free. In its hand appeared a black-red bloodblade, slashing down.

Mo Hua gritted his teeth and summoned the Broken Gold Sword, crafted from sword runes and sword bone.

The two blades clashed—divine will collided, gold and blood light exploding.

As the shockwaves faded, the cadaver took one step back.

Mo Hua took seven.

His hands trembled from the impact. His heart pounded.

"Third Grade… this is terrifying…"

And this was only a low-tier Third Grade Cadaver.

Its spiritual will dwarfed even peak Second Grades. Since the first exchange, Mo Hua had been on the back foot—barely surviving.

In just ten or so moves, the cadaver had forced out all his techniques.

"Arrays. Spells. Swordsmanship…"

The cadaver murmured with both surprise and understanding.

"This must be the advantage of using a human as the 'fetus.'"

"Gods are born from Dao—strong, but limited. Humans pursue the Dao—weak, but boundless…"

Mo Hua's eyes widened.

"You're not an ordinary divine cadaver… What exactly are you?"

The cadaver's eyes glowed red.

"That's my line…"

"You're not human. Not divine. But also human… and divine. A 'fetus' with no parasitic source visible…"

It waved its bloodblade—red light slashed toward Mo Hua.

"I've lived a long, long time… and I've never seen something as strange as you."

Mo Hua parried with the Broken Gold Sword, but the shock forced him back several steps again.

This thing's spiritual force was monstrous—his arms were going numb, and cracks had formed on his spiritual body.

Since reaching Foundation Establishment and refining his divine sense, this was the strongest spiritual entity he'd faced—stronger even than the newborn Evil Fetus.

Mo Hua's mind turned quickly, and he blurted: "How about I let you go and we just… call it even?"

He genuinely wasn't sure he could win.

And even if he did, it would be a pyrrhic victory. No need to fight to the death when his secrets were still hidden.

"Let's part on good terms," Mo Hua said shamelessly.

The cadaver's bone-white face twisted in a complicated expression.

"As expected… you possess abundant humanity. Full of cunning and deceit."

Mo Hua wasn't thrilled with that assessment.

But then—the cadaver raised its bloodblade. Its killing aura surged. Wailing souls clung to the blade, and the red-black hue of its bones deepened.

It had decided to go all out.

Turns out, it had been holding back—testing him until now.

Mo Hua's heart tightened. In the blink of an eye—a crimson flash streaked toward him at lightning speed.

Faster. Fiercer.

Mo Hua's brows furrowed—he raised his sword to block, but barely in time.

This time, the bloodblade felt solid. Tormented souls screamed from its edge. The moment it struck Mo Hua's sword, its toxic blood aura began melting the Broken Gold Sword.

As the sword dissolved, Mo Hua's expression changed. He leapt back—but before he could retreat more than a few steps—

A flash of blood shadow.

The cadaver reappeared behind him.

The sharp white-bone claw tore across Mo Hua's back.

Evil intent transformed into blood-like fluid, seeping into the wound and leaving behind a gory slash.

Mo Hua gasped in pain and countered with a backward sword strike—but it was easily blocked by the divine cadaver's claw.

His previous strength was spent, and the new force hadn't yet risen. His expression tensed—he realized things were going badly, but it was already too late.

After blocking Mo Hua's sword, the divine cadaver reached out with its clawed bone hand, grabbed his longsword, and twisted forcefully.

The Broken Gold Sword, already corroded and mottled by blood, shattered completely.

Mo Hua winced in pain—his divine will trembled. He attempted to abandon the sword and retreat, but the Third Grade divine cadaver was faster. Its clawed hand clenched into a fist, trailing bloodlight, and it punched toward Mo Hua's head.

At the critical moment, Mo Hua could only rely on Flowing Water Steps to barely dodge the strike to his head. Still, the punch was too fast—his shoulder was struck head-on, and he was flung like a ragdoll, crashing to the ground and tumbling several times before coming to a halt.

A wave of searing pain tore through his divine sense.

Mo Hua gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand up.

Blood streaked his back, his spiritual sword was broken, bruises lined both arms, and his breath came in ragged gasps—he looked utterly disheveled.

This was the most battered he'd been since setting foot on the divine path.

Even back when he was a mere Qi Refining cultivator, clueless and helpless against the Green-Faced Ghost, he hadn't been in this sorry a state.

Mo Hua's expression grew increasingly cold.

After sending Mo Hua flying, the divine cadaver didn't immediately follow up. Instead, it looked down at its claw.

On the bone-white claw were faint cracks.

Wounds left behind by the sword when it was shattered—subtle, but carrying a sharp pain.

So this… is the sword path of humans, where they forsake all else for the sake of slaughter…

The divine cadaver murmured:

"Human cultivation methods… truly intriguing. To think you could wound a Third Grade divine body with a Second Grade divine sense…"

"But your Dao... is still far too weak."

It raised its gaze. Crimson and hollow eyes stared indifferently at Mo Hua.

"Killing a few low-grade divine cadavers with such petty tricks made you proud? Made you satisfied?"

"Perhaps you've had great fortune—received many inheritances—but your path is scattered and unrefined."

"Your usage of divine sense techniques is crude and forceful."

"You have no understanding of what true 'Dao Transformation' is."

It raised its bloodblade, pointing at Mo Hua.

"If that's all you have—then today, you die here. Your foundation in divine sense, and that bountiful divine fetus—will become my nourishment, paving my path to godhood."

Mo Hua remained silent, expression icy.

Instead, he summoned a new divine sense sword.

This time, it wasn't golden—but earth-yellow. Its sword qi was continuous and heavy—not fast or fierce, but steady and substantial.

The Tai'a Mountain-Splitting Sword.

A sword style of earth: thick, enduring, nurturing—symbolizing endless growth.

The cadaver's red eyes flickered—it dissolved into blood and reappeared in a flash, blade brimming with deadly intent, slashing toward Mo Hua's head.

But this strike—was blocked.

The Tai'a sword's massive weight parried the ferocious bloodblade.

The bloodblade advanced no further.

Mo Hua didn't retreat a single step.

In that instant, the two sides… stood in balance.

The divine cadaver's hollow eyes glimmered.

"Blood belongs to water… and earth overcomes water. And…"

Its gaze shifted—toward the golden fluid coursing through Mo Hua's body.

"You're using divine marrow to make up the gap between Second and Third Grade divine sense…"

Its voice rasped.

"Not bad…"

Mo Hua snorted coldly and swung his sword to knock the bloodblade aside. Then, he activated his divine marrow, channeling divine will into the Mountain-Splitting Sword.

The blade now surged with robust sword intent.

With sword in hand, Mo Hua turned the blade and charged once more.

Man and cadaver collided again—sword against blade, form against form. Blood-red slashes and earth-heavy sword energy clashed violently.

The battlefield was silent—but smothered in killing intent.

The cadaver's blade was fast and vicious; Mo Hua's sword was steady and firm.

In a flash, they exchanged dozens of strikes. Blood marks appeared on Mo Hua, while sword scars began to mar the cadaver's white bones.

Offense and defense switched rapidly. Blades and swords clashed at lightning speed. Neither side spoke—only a brutal and bloodstained melee remained.

In an instant—they became evenly matched.

The divine cadaver, now fully stimulated, surged with killing desire. The more it fought, the more excited it became—its blood aura boiled, its attacks became frantic, and the slashes of its bloodblade were so dense they left no gaps.

Its mind had been overtaken by a single thought: Kill.

Mo Hua, too, was under enormous pressure.

In such a relentless close-quarters slaughter, he had no time to form spells, deploy arrays, or think of tactics.

He could only fight.

His only reliance—was the sword in his hand.

His only weapon—his sword techniques.

But not advanced sword arts—no.

Only the basic sword moves taught by Ancestor Dugu at the Sword Tomb behind the mountain—simple, honest forms: slash, thrust, parry, kill.

Before the cruel, raw truth of real-life combat—anything flashy was a burden. All ornament was useless.

All returned to the origin. Only the most fundamental moves mattered: cleave, cut, stab, strike.

Because Mo Hua lacked sword foundation, he had trained more in it.

Back then, every sword practice assigned by Ancestor Dugu—he had completed them with absolute discipline.

Those forms might not have held great power in the outside world—

—but in this duel of divine wills—they became his greatest asset.

Mo Hua fused those basic sword forms into his instinctual killing rhythm. In the blur of battle, he forgot all technique—he cared only for the fastest, fiercest, and strongest slash that could reach the divine cadaver.

As the battle burned toward its climax, Mo Hua's expression turned cold—tinged with bloodlust, and even a trace of madness.

He had forgotten everything.

Forgot his spells.

Forgot his arrays.

Forgot himself.

Even forgot the sword in his hand.

He no longer knew if he was killing with the sword—or if the sword was using him to kill.

The blade had become part of his body.

He was the sword. The sword was him.

In that moment—Mo Hua vaguely grasped what sword path meant. What man and sword as one truly was.

The divine cadaver, still locked in combat, grew increasingly alarmed.

If it guessed right—this divine fetus brat had relied on spells, footwork, and arrays to survive until now. The earlier battles had been full of schemes and cunning.

But now, forced into close-quarters by pure pressure—after exchanging blades for a while—this brat had awakened something fierce inside him.

His sword got faster.

His strikes got deadlier.

He fought like a bloodthirsty little madman.

And his blade… now carried a rising intent of "Sword Dao."

The sword aura grew sharper and sharper.

Even the divine cadaver's bloodblade—was starting to be overwhelmed.

"Gods are born with Dao. Cultivators comprehend it."

"But this kind of comprehension… this kind of talent… is ridiculous…"

The divine cadaver's gaze grew somber.

Translation:

The divine cadaver's gaze grew grim.

As Mo Hua's sword intent intensified, the cadaver's blade gradually began to fall behind.

But the cadaver remained indifferent and continued to fight him head-on.

After a few more exchanges, Mo Hua struck it back with one heavy blow and stopped—halting his sword and ceasing all movement.

He seemed puzzled at first, then slowly came to a realization. He looked toward the cadaver and said, "You're wearing me down?"

The divine cadaver replied coldly, "A battle of divine will is a war of attrition."

"No," Mo Hua shook his head. "You're wearing down my flesh."

Only now did he notice his physical blood and vitality had weakened somewhat—realizing that divine sense exerts a burden on the physical body.

His cultivation was only at Foundation Establishment.

The divine cadaver was a Third Grade existence—its divine sense at the level of Golden Core Realm. It had forcibly entered his sea of consciousness, far exceeding what his body could handle.

And this divine cadaver wasn't his own divine will—it was an external evil. So the suppression on his spiritual sea was tremendous.

What's more, it had been going all out, clashing with him for this long.

The constant surging waves of divine sense from a Third Grade entity repeatedly pounded not only his sea of consciousness—but also his physical brain and body.

Now, Mo Hua understood the cadaver's true goal:

If it could kill him directly—it would.

But if it couldn't, then it would wear him down—until his flesh withered, his spiritual sea cracked, and his body was destroyed.

That too… would be equivalent to death.

If he didn't end it quickly, even lasting a little longer would still mean he would be the one to die.

The cadaver looked at him and spoke plainly:

"As expected, you're clever."

But Mo Hua felt no satisfaction.

He knew—if he didn't come up with something fast and slay this cadaver—once his body was broken, he would never be able to cultivate again.

And more than that—he couldn't afford this attrition anymore.

To fight this Third Grade divine cadaver, he'd been constantly burning divine marrow—and divine marrow was rare and precious. He couldn't waste it so recklessly.

By now, he was already on the verge of complete depletion—his lamp nearly snuffed out.

Mo Hua looked up at the divine cadaver and said calmly,

"You're strong. But now I'm going to cut you down. You're going to die."

The divine cadaver's hollow eyes twitched faintly, then it chuckled.

"With your current Dao, you can't kill me. Your Dao… is too scattered."

Mo Hua replied:

"Scattered—but vast."

Then, he dispersed the Tai'a Mountain-Splitting Sword in his hands and raised both arms high above his head, palms empty. Deep within his eyes, golden light flowed, and his aura underwent a sudden transformation.

He now stood like a mountain.

Like an abyss.

Like a saint mourning all life, and like a god indifferent to all things.

At the same time, countless streams of divine sense flowed between his hands—converging and intertwining.

First came array formations.

Then, those formations evolved into sword formations.

Finally—they condensed into countless sword forms.

The first: the unceasing, life-giving yet forward-driving Tai'a Mountain-Splitting Sword.

Then came the radiant and razor-sharp Broken Gold Sword.

Then the cold, eerie Yin Water Sword...

The roaring, blazing Li Fire Sword...

One after another, array patterns morphed into sword formations, transformed into sword styles, and layered themselves into a blinding, terrifying embryonic form of the—God-Slaying Sword.

Because it incorporated so many "Sword Manifestation" styles, the blade shimmered with a chaotic brilliance. Law runes flowed across its form—it was longer, broader, and more imposing than any previous divine-sense sword.

The divine cadaver was shaken to its core.

It never imagined that such a mishmash-style of divine sword technique could exist in the world.

And Mo Hua had been right:

"Scattered—but vast."

The Dao of formations, the Dao of five elements, the Dao of sword—all interwoven to such a terrifying degree that even the cadaver's scalp tingled…

Regardless of how powerful this was—it must not be allowed to strike.

Seizing the moment when Mo Hua was still charging up, the divine cadaver surged with blood aura, transforming into a streak of bloodlight and lunging straight at him. The bloodblade in its hand slashed toward Mo Hua's forehead.

But halfway there—

Mo Hua's pupils lit up coldly.

An ominous prison of swordlight formed—gloomy and sharp—locking the divine cadaver in place like a sword-shaped cage.

A sword pierced through its shoulder bone.

A prison sealed its seven soul fragments.

Divine Dread Sword.

At this point, Mo Hua no longer held back. He finally unleashed the sword style he had "sealed away"—Divine Dread.

The divine cadaver froze in place, its heart seized by dread—it couldn't move.

It calculated that in about five breaths of time, it could break free from this divine will technique.

But even that short span… was more than enough for this divine fetus brat to finish forging his unknown sword style.

"Then let it be Dao versus Dao—let's see who lives and who dies…"

The divine cadaver's killing intent surged—its crimson eyes oozed blood.

Not just the eyes—its entire body became soaked in blood, turning it into a monstrous figure, dripping in gore, radiating terror.

A profound Dao aura burst from its body—filled with slaughter, cruelty, annihilation, murder, and blood-soaked silence.

The blood surrounding it rose upward—condensing above its head into a massive, blindingly red sword—

The Blood-Slaughter Blade, forged from who knows how many deaths and how much consumed blood.

As it formed, an overpowering divine sense radiated outward. Its pure and brutal Dao laws far surpassed Mo Hua's "mishmash" God-Slaying Sword.

The divine cadaver's eyes gleamed with cruelty.

"This divine fetus brat… is dead for sure today."

But just then—

Mo Hua's gaze turned deep. His expression grew solemn.

He began channeling his final sword intent.

This was the sword intent he had tirelessly practiced day and night, severing his fate soul, embedding it into his divine spirit through wounds in his divine sense—

The Great Void Sword Flow.

An ancient sword Dao origin—painstakingly refined by generations of predecessors of the Great Void Sect.

"...What is that?!"

Sensing that aura, the divine cadaver was stunned—completely in disbelief.

The sword intent of the Great Void—ancient, vast, immeasurable.

With the sword path's origin infused, Mo Hua's God-Slaying Sword finally took on true form.

Hands raised above his head, the divine-sense sword in Mo Hua's grasp surged with terrifying power—its shape now double in width, flowing with the ancient and profound Great Void sword intent, like the dawn of creation and the vastness of the stars.

In the stunned, disbelieving eyes of the blood-path divine cadaver— That mighty sword of divine will… Came crashing down.

Mo Hua shouted crisply:

"SLAY!!"

(End of this Chapter)