Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 924: Hatred of Evil

Formation array?

Why exchange an array?

What was it for?

And why did he have to bring it out afterward…?

Li San's heart was full of questions—but the next instant, he buried them all deep down.

"What Elder You wants is absolute loyalty. Loyalty that disregards everything, even death itself.

All I need to do is follow orders. I shouldn't think too much."

"Only loyalty can earn Elder You's approval."

Over this period, he had already earned seven to eight thousand merit points by killing his fellow sect members—a reward far beyond anything he could have ever dreamed of before.

All of this was Elder You's reward for his loyalty.

"Please rest assured, Elder You! I will not fail you!" said Li San.

"I look forward to your performance," Mo Hua replied.

"Yes!"

Without hesitation, Li San went to the Merit Pavilion and spent 3,000 merit points to exchange for a scroll of the Reverse Spirit Formation Diagram.

The steward of the Merit Pavilion frowned in confusion,

"You're not an array master… why are you exchanging for a formation?"

Li San replied coldly,

"Do I need to explain my business to you?"

Before long, he would become an elder.

That was Elder You's promise.

With that confidence, he showed no fear and acted with calm arrogance—completely unaware that he was aiding an internal traitor in stealing a formation from the demonic sect itself.

The steward, intimidated by his aura, didn't press further.

"Just a weird formation anyway. If some fool wants to waste his merit on it, who am I to stop him?"

He sealed the Reverse Spirit Diagram in a wooden box and handed it to Li San.

Li San carefully placed it into his storage pouch.

The whole process was simple.

No one knew what this "routine transaction" truly meant.

No one in the demonic sect had any idea what kind of formation they had just handed over… or into whose hands it had landed.

Everything went smoothly.

Li San, being a senior peak Foundation Establishment cultivator, had a solid position in the sect. His movements were rarely questioned.

So, carrying the Reverse Spirit Formation, he left the sect. After traveling for half a day, he arrived at a small hill—exactly where Mo Hua had instructed—and entered a little grove.

Outside the grove, Mo Hua and Gu Changhuai were hiding in the bushes, watching as the disguised Li San—now made up to look like an old man—walked into the trees.

Gu Changhuai couldn't help but ask,

"What kind of soul-bewitching soup did you feed him? He listens to you like a loyal dog."

Mo Hua shrugged,

"Nothing much. I just pretended to be a demonic elder and told him a few words."

Gu Changhuai clearly didn't believe that.

But after a moment of thought, it… didn't seem impossible.

After all, Mo Hua had the kind of silver tongue that could talk flowers off trees and con people out of their shadows.

If anyone could trick a demon into worship, it was probably him.

Seeing Li San step into the grove and confirming no other demonic cultivators were around, Mo Hua patted Gu Changhuai on the shoulder.

"Uncle Gu, I'll leave it to you."

Gu Changhuai was tall. Mo Hua was short.

Even crouching together, patting his shoulder was a bit of a stretch.

Gu Changhuai gave him a long look.

To this day, no one else in the entire Dao Court dared casually slap him on the shoulder.

But he could only sigh in resignation.

"Fine. I'll be back in a bit."

Then Gu Changhuai stood up and entered the grove.

Within moments, bursts of spiritual power and demonic aura clashed. Explosions sounded.

Blue light. Red light.

A few brief exchanges later, Gu Changhuai emerged again—dragging a badly wounded and unconscious Li San in one hand, and holding a box in the other.

Mo Hua didn't even glance at Li San.

Instead, he stared at Gu Changhuai in shock:

"Uncle Gu… you've broken through to mid-Golden Core?"

Gu Changhuai nodded nonchalantly.

On the surface, he remained calm.

But Mo Hua's genuine surprise clearly pleased him.

After all, every step in the Golden Core stage was a major hurdle—far harder than Foundation Establishment.

With the crystallization of spiritual power, increase in meridians, and amplification from one's life-bound treasure, each substage of Golden Core—early, mid, late—represented a huge leap in strength.

Moving from early to mid-Golden Core was no small feat.

Still, they didn't dwell on it.

There was more important business to attend to.

"What do you want to do with Li San?" Gu Changhuai asked. "Should we kill him?"

Mo Hua paused in thought.

Logically speaking, demonic cultivators were ruthless.

And Li San was a veteran killer—his hands were definitely stained with plenty of blood.

He deserved to die.

But for some reason, he had been brainwashed too thoroughly.

So thoroughly that even Mo Hua felt it would be a waste to kill him.

"Let's keep him alive for now," said Mo Hua.

"Lock him up in the Dao Prison. He might be a key piece later."

Gu Changhuai nodded.

"Alright."

Then he handed the box to Mo Hua.

"This is the thing you wanted?"

Mo Hua's eyes lit up.

"Mm!"

He opened the box carefully, inspecting the contents.

Only after confirming there were no issues did he slowly lift the lid.

Inside the plain wooden box lay a piece of ancient parchment.

On it were profound, arcane markings—

clearly of the same lineage as a Grade-1 Reverse Spirit Formation.

Mo Hua could almost see the reversal laws of spiritual energy flowing through it.

Those inversion laws… were like kindling.

Just one spark could set off a massive explosion, unleashing unfathomable destructive power.

Mo Hua's eyes burned with anticipation.

Beside him, Gu Changhuai frowned.

The array looked obscure and mysterious on the surface—but it also emitted a faint, deeply unsettling aura.

And considering that Mo Hua had gone through such lengths to steal it from the demonic sect…

Gu Changhuai's gaze turned serious:

"What kind of formation is this? Don't tell me… it's a demonic formation?"

"It's not," Mo Hua shook his head.

"Do you really think I'd learn something like that?"

Gu Changhuai still looked skeptical.

So Mo Hua invoked his trump card:

"I learned formations from Venerable Elder Xun.

Would he ever let me go astray?

Uncle Gu, you can relax."

That worked.

The Great Void Sect's Elder Xun—righteous, respected, upright—there was no way he'd let Mo Hua touch anything evil.

As long as it wasn't a demonic formation, that was enough.

Still… Gu Changhuai couldn't help but ask:

"Then this formation is…?"

"For setting off fireworks," Mo Hua replied casually.

Gu Changhuai froze. For a moment, he wondered if he had misheard.

Gu Changhuai was stunned for a moment and almost thought he had misheard.

"Fireworks?"

"Mm," Mo Hua nodded, lowering his voice mysteriously.

"Big fireworks."

Gu Changhuai didn't know what to say to that, so he dropped the subject.

After all, asking further would probably be pointless.

But since it was "fireworks," it couldn't be anything too serious… right?

He was born in a noble family, raised in Grand Immortal City— he'd seen all kinds of "fireworks" during holidays and festivals.

So he didn't think too much of it.

At that point, the task was complete, and the formation had been retrieved.

Li San lay on the ground, seriously injured and unconscious.

His entire body had been bound tightly with Spirit-Binding Chains.

Gu Changhuai gave him a pill to keep him alive, reinforced the chains, and then turned to Mo Hua:

"Let's go back."

"Mm." Mo Hua nodded.

Gu Changhuai dragged Li San along, and the two made their way down the mountain.

The scenery was quiet and serene—lush forests and green hills.

But occasionally, they came across bloodstains… and corpses.

"This mountain sees a lot of demonic cultivator activity," Gu Changhuai explained simply.

Where demonic cultivators roamed, there was naturally fighting, bloodshed, and death.

It was normal. Mo Hua didn't say anything.

They continued along the mountain path, and after turning around the base of a hill, several rows of small thatched huts came into view.

Built against the mountain, surrounded by crude wooden fences—it looked like a village of rogue cultivators.

Quiet. Peaceful.

Mo Hua felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, and, before he realized it, he began walking toward the village.

Gu Changhuai grabbed him.

"What are you doing?"

Mo Hua pointed at the village:

"I want to take a break—and maybe ask someone a few things."

Gu Changhuai shook his head.

"No need. They're all dead."

Mo Hua froze.

Gu Changhuai sighed.

"Demonic cultivators often show up here. How could a bunch of rogue cultivators survive?"

A chill crept through Mo Hua's heart.

He released his divine sense and scanned the area carefully—and indeed, the entire village held no signs of life.

What seemed "peaceful" was in fact… deathly silent.

Mo Hua fell silent for a moment, then asked:

"Can I… take a look?"

Gu Changhuai thought for a moment and didn't refuse.

"Fine. Just don't take too long—we still have to return to the sect."

Mo Hua nodded and stepped along the path, slowly entering the village.

The village was old. Wooden walls. Thatched roofs. Poor and shabby.

But each small courtyard represented a home.

There were hunting traps in the yards, dried herbs hung to cure, tattered clothes airing on lines, a child's wooden horse, and a grasshopper toy woven from straw and bamboo…

A family, though poor, had once lived here in harmony and worked hard to survive.

At least… they had.

Mo Hua silently looked over the broken yard.

He saw shattered limbs, blurred remnants of flesh, bloodstains on the toys, flies buzzing, maggots crawling...

"Are all the nearby villages like this?"

Gu Changhuai nodded, his voice like ice.

"In the eyes of demonic cultivators, people are nothing more than 'living spirit stones' and 'walking meals'."

"Whether it's for cultivation or passing on techniques, they all use people as fuel.

Wherever they go, they leave behind trails of slaughter."

"These ordinary rogue cultivators—once they run into demonic cultivators, they either get eaten, or killed, or forcibly recruited into their cults.

If their spiritual roots are decent, they're raised as blood slaves. A fate worse than death. No one escapes."

"The Dao Court doesn't have enough manpower.

Even when we get word and rush to the scene—

all we find is this…"

Gu Changhuai sighed deeply.

Mo Hua said nothing. He just silently stared at the blood-soaked ruins of the courtyard.

He had been a demon hunter. He'd traveled far and seen worse—scenes more brutal, more grotesque.

But nothing had ever hit him this hard.

This yard—so poor, yet once so full of life—

reminded him of his own home in Tongxian City.

The rogue cultivators who died here reminded him of his parents… and of himself.

His parents were just ordinary rogue cultivators in Tongxian City.

And he himself—if not for those fortuitous encounters—would've just been an insignificant nobody.

And if other rogue cultivators could be slaughtered like weeds…

So could his family.

So could he.

In that moment, fate stirred.

Mo Hua saw—a different version of himself.

Like so many others, killed like an ant by evil cultivators.

Eaten. Slaughtered. Refined into pills.

Drained of blood.

Turned into a slave…

His heart trembled uncontrollably.

He'd sat atop Mount Taixu, peering into the movements of the demonic sect through the Primordial Magnetic Array.

He knew they killed.

He knew they drank blood.

He knew about their "blood banquets."

He'd known all this.

But until you see it with your own eyes—

Until you live it yourself—

You don't really understand the weight of such suffering.

The dead weren't names.

Weren't numbers.

They were people—

Daughters.

Sons.

Mothers.

Fathers.

Families.

Mo Hua lifted his head and looked into the distance.

Beyond the boundary of Qianxue Province, sects stood tall.

Clans ruled the land.

Lofty towers.

Grand palaces.

"Those who stand at the top… never look down."

And in truth—he was no different.

If he had always stayed within the bounds of Qianxue Province, rubbing shoulders with noble clans and prestigious sects, he too might've believed the world was peaceful, days were tranquil, and all was well.

He might've never realized that in the distant corners of the land, nameless rogue cultivators were dying like dust, unnoticed and unlamented.

He might've never seen the sins wrought by demonic cultivators.

Might've grown indifferent to the countless dead…

Mo Hua's heart felt unbearably heavy.

"Mo Hua…" Gu Changhuai spoke gently. "Are you alright?"

Seeing Mo Hua standing still in silence, his expression shifting again and again, Gu grew concerned.

Mo Hua came back to himself and shook his head.

"I'm fine."

Gu Changhuai looked around and sighed, trying to comfort him.

"The demonic sect will be eradicated. Focus on your cultivation.

The rest… really doesn't concern you too much. Don't let it weigh on you."

"Mm." Mo Hua answered softly.

Worried that Mo Hua might overthink things, Gu said,

"It's getting late. Let's get you back."

"Mm."

Afterward, the two went to the Dao Court.

They threw Li San into the Dao Prison, and Gu Changhuai escorted Mo Hua back to the Great Void Sect.

Before they parted, Gu saw the shadow lingering in Mo Hua's expression and wanted to say something comforting—

But he was more skilled at sarcasm than warmth.

In the end, he managed to force out two lines:

"Just focus on your cultivation. Forget the rest."

"I know." Mo Hua nodded.

Back in his quarters, Mo Hua didn't sleep that night.

Not that he usually did.

He would typically spend the night at the Dao Tablet, practicing formation drawing.

But this time, he couldn't even quiet his mind enough to draw a single line.

The scenes from earlier in the day still hovered vividly in his mind.

The small mountain village.

Rogue cultivators who, though poor, had lived with determination and hope—

All wiped out in the blink of an eye.

Men, women, and children… all slaughtered in blood.

His very soul ached with pain.

A hint of fierceness stirred within him.

Perhaps it was the influence of the Water Prison Sect's Sevenfold Soul Blood Prison Eyes,

Or maybe the Water Prison Diagram etched into his divine soul—

But Mo Hua began to feel a rising desire… for slaughter.

All evil cultivators in this world…

Deserve to die.

All who slaughter the innocent…

Should be dragged into the Dao Prison, tortured without mercy until death.

"Kill!"

Mo Hua's eyes turned crimson,

A thick aura of killing intent pooled deep within his gaze.

His divine soul manifestation began to emit faint wisps of black energy.

For a brief moment, Mo Hua seemed to become a vengeful judge of hell— A cold, unwavering Little Yama, His heart a Demon-Slaying Sword, Determined to purge all evil from the world.

Then he caught himself.

Realizing something was wrong, he quickly sat down and entered meditation, Trying to suppress the bloodthirsty impulse in his heart.

But those four words—

"Slay demons, purge evil"— Seemed to have fused with the Water Prison Diagram, etched deep into his very soul.

His heart… Burned with the urge to kill every last demonic cultivator.

Mo Hua meditated in silence.

But no matter how hard he tried to calm himself, No matter how still he made his breath and thoughts— That killing intent refused to be tamed.

He had no choice but to give up.

"If I can't suppress it…"

"Then I won't."

Mo Hua's gaze turned ice-cold.

"I'll find a way… to slaughter every last demonic cultivator in that damn sect!"

(End of this Chapter)