Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 916: More Hellish Than Hell

Dark Mo Hua's voice rang out with manic viciousness.

The real Mo Hua, however, turned pale, panic flashing in his eyes.

It seemed he had only meant to bluff this "blackened" version of himself—but things hadn't gone as planned. Dark Mo Hua was actually going all in.

Mo Hua turned to flee, but the two were of the same origin. Such a simple trick could never escape Dark Mo Hua's eyes.

Its gaze was pitch black, demonic energy surged, and with a weaving of its sword, it conjured a full Dao Prison in the air that locked Mo Hua down instantly.

Demonic Fetus: Divine Dread Sword!

"Trying to run? Too late," Dark Mo Hua sneered coldly.

Mo Hua had once used this Divine Dread Sword style to suppress a Third-Rank Divine Corpse, forcing it into a duel. Now, that very move was being used against him.

Mo Hua struggled a few times but couldn't break free. At last, he sighed, and could only accept his fate, raising both hands above his head.

Driven by circumstances, he had no choice but to fight a deathmatch against his own blackened self.

His expression turned grave as a sword array formed between his hands. The shape of a sword condensed, the Five Elements flowed and merged together into a long sword of divine intent.

It was the very same technique he used to slay the Third-Rank Divine Corpse—the God-Slaying Sword.

But across from him, the Dark Mo Hua also wielded an identical God-Slaying Sword—only infused with demonic energy, giving it even greater power.

Mo Hua clenched his teeth and continued to pour in the ancient and profound Taixu Sword Intent.

Dark Mo Hua coldly sneered, mimicking him perfectly, also infusing his own sword with the same Taixu intent.

The blackened God-Slaying Sword surged with killing intent. Vengeful souls fluttered around it—its power soared.

Two God-Slaying Swords faced each other across the void.

One righteous, one demonic. One strong, one weak.

Mo Hua was at a disadvantage. His face grew increasingly tense.

Dark Mo Hua stared at him, savoring the panic, fear, and despair etched into his features.

But that didn't last long.

Because that "despair" on Mo Hua's face... suddenly disappeared. In its place appeared a sly smile.

That smile...

The demonic fetus stiffened. Its expression began to change. A cold chill ran down its spine. Its pupils slowly widened.

"You... why are you smiling?"

There was a trace of unexplainable dread in Dark Mo Hua's voice.

"Actually," Mo Hua said, his smile growing brighter, all the previous panic now gone, "I've been waiting for this moment... just like you."

"When the Dao Monument is active, you wouldn't dare show yourself."

"Only when I've been worn down to my last breath—only then would you gamble it all in a final attack."

"So what?" Dark Mo Hua shouted, voice trembling. "I am you, and you are me! I know everything about you! At this point, what tricks could you possibly have left to kill me?!"

The words had barely left his mouth when his pupils shrank again.

Because he could clearly see... Mo Hua's entire aura was changing.

"This sword, I've been saving just for you. I didn't even use it on anyone else…"

A cold, deathly, and hollow aura began to spread outward.

At the same time, Mo Hua's face turned solemn.

He began to perform the true final form of the God-Slaying Sword technique.

He first cut away his ego. Then, he severed his emotions and desires.

His expression became detached, emotionless, ethereal—like he no longer shared the joys and sorrows of mortals. Only the cold severance of a Heaven-Person.

Taishang Severing Emotion Dao.

This Dao fused into his sword path. The God-Slaying Sword in Mo Hua's hand surged in strength again.

On the basis of the original Taixu Sword Dao's grandeur, it now carried a deep, void-like black—like the cosmic night sky. The two fused to form a colossal sword: luminous, yet shrouded in a chaotic gloom.

The God-Slaying Greatsword was several times larger than Mo Hua himself. When he raised it, it was like a sword that could hold up the heavens—black and white swirling, golden light coiling around him.

Mo Hua, with the body of a mortal, for a moment, seemed like a god-demon descended from the heavens.

"That... That's Heavenly Demon Slash?!"

Dark Mo Hua's expression twisted in shock. He howled in disbelief:

"How could you walk the Heavenly Demon Path?!"

"Why would you know the Heavenly Demon Slash?! What the hell are you?!"

Standing there with the Heavenly Demon God-Slaying Greatsword in hand, Mo Hua looked like an emotionless god or devil, his gaze cold and indifferent toward the demonic fetus born of his own soul.

The Taixu God-Slaying Sword severs the ego.

The Taishang Severing Emotion Dao severs wicked desire.

And today—he would sever this "Evil Self" to complete the Severing Emotion Dao and fully master the true, peerless God-Slaying Sword!

The demonic fetus, now nothing more than a sacrificial pawn to Mo Hua's grand Dao, was overwhelmed with a crushing sense of impending doom.

"This damn brat... he even tricked me. Every step, every move—was part of his plan!"

"He planned it all from the start…"

"What a terrifying mind… like a monster in human skin!"

"No! I can't let him finish that slash—!"

Dark Mo Hua gritted his teeth, pouring all his demonic power into his God-Slaying Sword, and struck first with a mighty slash.

"If I kill him—I become 'Mo Hua'!"

But it was already too late.

Mo Hua had already completed the formation of his God-Slaying Greatsword—a sword built upon his sword array, fused with Taixu Sword Intent, and imbued with the Severing Emotion Dao.

Dark Mo Hua's sword struck first—

—but Mo Hua's sword arrived first.

In an instant, it was as if the heavens collapsed and the earth cracked. Boundless sword intent and surging sword qi, interwoven with ancient sword Dao and the Severing Emotion of a Heavenly Demon, exploded like a rainbow piercing the sun.

With one stroke—it shattered everything.

Dark Mo Hua's demonic sword was instantly cleaved apart. It shattered inch by inch, becoming nothing but fragments of divine thought.

Then, like a broken dam, sword light burst forth, cascading like a river, annihilating all in its path.

Dark Mo Hua's eyes widened in shock. He tried to resist, tried to escape—but it was like a mantis trying to stop a chariot. Powerless.

He was utterly consumed—obliterated within the overwhelming flood of sword light that was the Taixu God-Slaying Sword.

—

By turning array into sword,

Fusing the Taixu Sword Dao,

Comprehending the Heavenly Demon Severing Emotion—

And slaying the Evil Self,

Mo Hua finally forged the true final form of the God-Slaying Sword Technique!

As the sword strike landed, Mo Hua felt his body, his sword, and the Dao become one. In that moment, he sensed:

In this world, there is nothing I cannot sever!

I can sever man, sever emotions, sever desire.

Sever ghosts, demons, monsters—

Even gods—can be slain!

—

At the moment the God-Slaying Sword Dao was achieved…

Back in the rear mountains of the Great Void Sect, in the Sword Tomb—

Broken swords began to hum.

The sword intents of long-deceased sword cultivators turned to wisps of white smoke, drifting upward and blending into the mountain fog.

Venerable Elder Dugu, who was meditating and sealing off his inner demons, suddenly opened his eyes—his expression shaken.

The Sword Tomb was reacting again.

Shattered blades cried. Sword qi became white mist. But this time—it was different. Stronger. Far more intense.

This was an omen—of a sword Dao revival in the Great Void Sect.

Once, this might have filled Elder Dugu with pride and joy. But now, his heart was gripped by dread.

Others may not see it—but he could.

He could clearly see that within the sword tomb, it wasn't just white smoke rising—

There were also strange, illusory, otherworldly shadows of Heavenly Demons.

At this moment—Heavenly Demons danced in chaos.

Demonic voices howled and whispered—harsh, terrible, yet eerily seductive.

Someone had learned their Dao.

Someone had formed a bridge to their world.

Someone had become their anchor in the mortal realm—a demonic god fetus for the Heavenly Demons to incarnate through.

The innocent face of Mo Hua rose in Elder Dugu's mind.

He seemed to age decades in that instant. His back hunched, steeped in sorrow.

"Such a good child…"

"But it's already too late… there's no turning back now…"

"Fortune hides misfortune… In the end, it was all my mistake…"

...

Within the Sea of Consciousness

The residual waves of the God-Slaying Sword gradually faded.

Mo Hua frowned at the scene before him.

Though Dark Mo Hua had been cut down—its divine sense shattered, its origin severed—it didn't die completely. Somehow, its source still contained an extraordinary vitality.

After being slain, the demonic fetus no longer retained any human shape. Only a lump of black mist remained, throbbing like a heart—like a true "embryo."

It was still trying to repair its injuries.

But the Taixu Sword Intent was ancient and devastatingly sharp. The wounds it left were deep.

And the Taishang Severing Emotion not only severed desire and ego—it also cut divine intent and will. The slashed fetus now held a strange death-wish: it clearly wanted to live, yet no longer had the desire to survive.

Because the desire to live... had been severed.

The fetus continued to squirm, trying again and again to heal those irreparable wounds.

Even its remaining will—torn between wanting to live and not caring to live—was still locked in internal conflict.

Mo Hua didn't want to drag this out.

At this point, he was truly burned out—like a flickering lamp running out of oil.

No matter how strong, how cautious, how clever he was—after consecutively slaying both a Third-Rank Divine Corpse and a demonic fetus—he had reached his limit.

He sighed helplessly.

"One moment I'm killing a Third-Rank Divine Corpse... next I'm slaying a demonic god fetus... and now I've gotta kill another one?"

"What kind of poor Foundation Establishment cultivator goes through this crap?"

The pressure he bore at his age was really too much.

But... at least it was over.

Mo Hua used the last of his divine sense to manifest a divine-path array, transforming it into a chain of divine intent, fully sealing the demonic fetus within.

The weakened creature had no ability left to resist.

Mo Hua sat in meditation where he was, waiting a bit longer—until midnight struck and the Dao Monument emerged. Only then did he grab the fetus and carry it to the monument.

On the monument, the tribulation lightning was a vivid, searing red—like a divine blade tempered in heavenly fire.

Sensing the aura of annihilation from the tribulation lightning, the nearly lifeless, tumor-like fetus instantly began to struggle in fear and screamed out:

"You brat! Abomination! You wouldn't dare—!"

"I already said I would," Mo Hua replied.

The fetus squirmed for a moment—then suddenly fell silent.

Mo Hua paused for a second, puzzled.

"You're not begging for your life?"

Its voice grew even sharper, yet disturbingly childish and cold.

"Go ahead. Kill me."

The grotesque lump of flesh trembled and split open into a crack—like a grotesque eye, glaring at Mo Hua with terrifying intensity, as if it wanted to etch his image into its soul forever.

"If you kill me, I'll merge with you."

"In this life, in this world, you'll never escape the brand of the Lord of the Great Wilderness. Even if you flee to the ends of the earth, the Lord's followers will hunt you down endlessly—your flesh, your soul, all will be seen as the finest sacrificial offering for the Great Wilderness."

Mo Hua snorted.

"You think I scare that easy?"

Honestly, he sounded more eager than afraid.

Still, something puzzled him:

"If I kill it, it'll merge with me?"

"I'll never escape the brand of the Great Wilderness Lord?"

What was that supposed to mean?

His curiosity flared. He almost asked aloud.

But then he stopped himself.

Villains die from talking too much.

Sure, he wasn't a villain—but when facing a literal demon fetus, caution was still wise. If he hesitated or gave it a chance to breathe, he might be the one getting played instead.

Besides, even if he did ask, a demon fetus about to be executed wasn't likely to explain anything.

So Mo Hua didn't hesitate anymore.

He bound the fetus tightly with the divine chains—and hurled it into the Dao Monument.

The annihilative, terrifying tribulation lightning—imbued with supreme heavenly Dao—descended like a red-hot branding iron, erasing the demonic fetus's essence, will, and origin completely.

The fetus said nothing. Its grotesque eye stayed fixed on Mo Hua to the very last, never looking away—not even as it was obliterated, soul and body both.

"Still glaring after losing? So full of yourself,"

Mo Hua huffed, staring right back without flinching.

Only once the foul, freakish fetus of the evil god was reduced to ash—leaving behind a rich, spring-like fountain of divine marrow—did Mo Hua finally breathe a sigh of relief.

At last, this lurking nightmare had been completely destroyed!

His soul was finally free.

No more risk of being corrupted by the evil god.

No more worry about that sinister voice suddenly laughing in his head again.

And now—so much divine marrow!

Even more than everything he'd consumed before. It flowed like a river, clear and pure—far richer than anything he'd ever absorbed.

Mo Hua dipped his finger in, gave it a taste. It was like drinking liquefied sunlight—warm and revitalizing.

He couldn't help but slurp a few more mouthfuls, his face breaking into a bright, satisfied grin.

He was just about to indulge properly when he suddenly remembered:

"Wait—it's midnight, and I'm still outside the sect gates."

"After two life-or-death battles, the pressure on my sea of consciousness is immense. Even my blood and qi are starting to wither."

"If my body collapses, no matter how strong my divine sense is, it'll all be useless. I can't just become a ghost—or worse, an evil god, can I?"

"Besides, becoming a ghost isn't even that easy. It takes a ton of specific conditions—natural disasters, blood debts, resentment… You can't just decide to become one."

"And don't even get me started on being an evil god. Who knows how many atrocities you'd have to commit…"

"Nope. I better check on my body first."

Mo Hua quickly withdrew his divine sense and returned it to his physical body.

The moment he did—

He felt pain everywhere. Limbs, bones, organs—even blood circulation was sluggish. His meridians were dried up. He couldn't even twitch a finger. His eyes refused to open.

Crap!

His heart sank.

It was the middle of the night, and he was in some remote mountain wilderness. Not a soul in sight.

If anything happened to his physical body now, he'd be in serious trouble.

Steeling himself, Mo Hua forced his mind to calm and pushed his will to the limit—struggling to open his eyes.

But his eyelids felt like they'd been filled with lead—unmoving, impossibly heavy.

He didn't give up.

He kept trying, again and again.

Eventually—who knows how long it took—gritting his teeth against the pain, he slowly opened his eyes.

And the first thing he saw… was a gentle face, and a pair of warm, soft eyes.

This was…

"Murong… Elder?"

Mo Hua was surprised.

Then he heard Elder Murong's gentle, spring breeze–like voice say to someone nearby:

"Old Sir, the child is awake."

"Mm."

The aged voice of Venerable Elder Xun sounded beside her.

"You may give him the pills."

Before Mo Hua could even react, a pair of elegant, cool fingers—faintly carrying the scent of licorice—gently placed a few medicinal pills into his mouth.

He hadn't even tasted them before they slid down his throat, dissolving into a warm medicinal current that spread through his limbs, replenishing his waning blood and qi.

Afterward, Elder Murong gave him some bitter spiritual liquid, followed by more unknown pills.

Soon, Mo Hua felt much better. His limbs regained some strength, and his throat cleared up enough to speak, though his voice was still hoarse:

"Thank you, Murong… Elder."

Elder Murong gently brushed her long fingers across his forehead and smiled warmly:

"It's alright now. You fainted in the outer mountains without a word, your qi and blood dangerously depleted. Fortunately, the old master noticed in time and sent people to bring you back here…"

Mo Hua tried to express his gratitude, but Elder Murong raised a hand to stop him:

"You're not fully recovered. Speak less."

Mo Hua obediently nodded.

"I'll let you rest now."

After briefly checking his injuries, Elder Murong stood gracefully, offered a respectful salute to Venerable Elder Xun, and quietly left.

Now, Elder Xun stepped up to Mo Hua's bedside, looking at him with deep concern.

"I've troubled you…"

Though Elder Murong had told him not to talk, Mo Hua still rasped out his thanks.

Elder Xun shook his head.

"It's fine, as long as you're alright."

He stared at Mo Hua for a moment. In his mind replayed the disturbing image of Mo Hua's face earlier—tainted by blood, black mist, evil intent, and even traces of sword intent—all interwoven.

He frowned.

"You… encountered something demonic?"

Mo Hua nodded obediently.

"A little… yeah."

"And now?"

"It's resolved…"

Elder Xun looked into Mo Hua's eyes. Though he was visibly weak, his gaze remained clear and steady, with an innate divine light.

The old man finally let out a breath.

"Any lingering effects?"

Mo Hua shook his head.

"Good, that's good…"

Elder Xun rose to leave.

"Get plenty of rest. Anything else can wait until you've recovered."

Mo Hua's throat hurt too much to speak, so he simply nodded earnestly.

Elder Xun's profound gaze swept across Mo Hua from head to toe, confirming that this "precious disciple" of the Great Void Sect was truly safe. Only then did he slowly turn and walk away.

But the moment he left the alchemy chamber, Elder Xun's expression darkened.

"In the middle of Taixu Mountain… how could he have been possessed by evil spirits for no reason?"

"And the black aura—so dense and tainted at the very source… that's not ordinary at all."

"And… sword intent?"

Elder Xun was confused.

Mo Hua wasn't a sword cultivator. Why had such an intense sword aura manifested from him?

Not only that, but the aura was complicated and obscure—hiding strange elements that even made him, an old Hollow Void realm ancestor, feel a faint chill in his soul.

Where did he learn this?

Who taught it to him?

Elder Xun paused, deep in thought. His mind churned like a stormy sea, and his brows knotted with worry. After a long silence, he sighed deeply.

"This child… really draws in karma like a magnet."

"I just hope the Great Void Sect is strong enough to bear it…"

Shaking his head, he slowly walked off. In just a few steps, his figure faded away, completely vanishing from the chamber.

Within the alchemy room, Mo Hua still felt weak. His eyelids heavy as lead—before long, he couldn't hold on and drifted into a deep sleep.

But while he slept, he had no idea—

His entire spiritual fate was shifting.

Heavenly fate began to stir. Chains of karma slowly emerged, using Mo Hua's present being as an anchor—linking his past, present, and future together.

This chain, tied into the flow of fate itself—tracing the past, anchoring the present, and threading into the future—was his destiny.

Though asleep, Mo Hua's destiny trembled.

From the depths, a cloud of pitch-black mist—formed of violent hatred after its death—began to creep along the karmic chain, crawling into Mo Hua's destiny.

It throbbed like a heart, hatched like an embryo—until finally, it took form:

A blackened, terrifying, twisted child version of Mo Hua—a shadowy, evil doppelgänger.

Then came a cry—so eerie and powerful it could startle gods and ghosts alike.

Dark Mo Hua opened his eyes.

His pupils were pitch black, glimmering with pure, innocent malice. He glanced around—

A barely visible female ghost, lurking like mist.

An entire mountain of vicious, stiff corpses—silent and frozen.

And one towering Corpse King, copper-skinned, iron-boned, crimson-eyed, exuding brutal dominance and a monstrous aura of mutation.

The demonic infant—this Dark Mo Hua—cried out again.

That cry carried immense dread, sweeping across the land like a storm of spectral wind.

The ghost woman said nothing.

The corpses froze like statues.

Only the Corpse King bared its fangs in a wicked grin, eyes glowing red.

Yet the demon infant made no other move. He simply closed his eyes again and fell back into slumber.

But beneath him, thick black water began to seep—like some evil amniotic fluid, devouring karmic threads and feeding him, little by little, making him grow.

He was still just an evil infant—but the aura he released already rivaled the bloodlust of the Corpse King who ruled over the undead horde.

Black qi and blood qi intertwined, darkening the sky.

Amid the spreading corruption:

The ghost lay in wait.

The Corpse King stood sentinel.

The evil infant slept.

And within Mo Hua's karmic destiny…

A scene more hellish than Hell itself had taken root.

But at this moment, protected beneath the Taixu Yin-Yang Lock, no living being could witness the terrible purgatory hidden within Mo Hua's fate.

(End of this Chapter)