Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 957: Lighting the Soul-Lantern

Mo Hua fell into the tomb pit.

It was like sinking into a suffocating sea of darkness—surrounded by an even deeper black and the chilling stench of corpses.

He didn't know how long he fell, but eventually, his feet touched the ground.

A flash of waterlight beneath his soles—the Drifting Water Step absorbed the impact of the fall, allowing Mo Hua to slowly stand upright.

One after another, people landed behind him. Soon, the group had all gathered.

Boss Hui and several black-robed demonic cultivators regrouped, following the black-robed elder as he led them forward.

All around was pitch black—so dark you couldn't see your fingers in front of your face. The visibility here was even worse than above.

Mo Hua could only circulate spiritual power into his eyes, activating "Night Vision Technique."

This was a basic cultivation spell that most cultivators knew—used for seeing in the dark.

But activating spiritual power creates fluctuations, which could attract unwanted attention from others or beasts, so experienced cultivators avoid using it in dangerous areas unless absolutely necessary.

But in this tomb pit, there truly was no visibility at all.

And here, even spiritual sense couldn't be fully trusted.

So not just Mo Hua—everyone activated their Night Vision.

A faint glow of spiritual light covered their eyes, helping them perceive their surroundings. Only then could they cautiously follow the path forward.

Yet the deeper they walked, the more disturbed Mo Hua felt.

The environment around them was even more desolate and barren than the tomb above.

Beneath their feet were shattered rocks, the walls damp and jagged. There wasn't even a proper tunnel—it looked more like some abandoned mountain hollow than a finished tomb.

After a while, the black-robed elder suddenly warned,

"Careful."

Mo Hua felt something too and halted, quietly inching closer to the group.

In the darkness—wet, slapping footsteps.

But… they weren't from below—they were above.

Something was creeping toward them from overhead.

Everyone drew out spiritual artifacts or treasures, quietly circulating their qi and blood, preparing for battle.

A moment later, a gust of rancid wind swept past in the dark—a flash of cold light streaked down from above.

Before it could strike anyone, the bear-like demon cultivator reached up and caught it mid-air, crushing its limbs and ripping the creature apart before slamming it to the ground.

Some kind of unidentifiable blood slowly oozed out, soaking the dirt.

Only then did Mo Hua see it clearly—it wasn't a corpse puppet.

It was a demonic beast.

This beast had scales and claws, resembling a pangolin monster, but its pointed head bore facial features disturbingly similar to a human's—deeply unsettling.

"What the hell is this thing…?"

"A beast with a human face? What kind of weird thing did it eat to end up like this?"

Everyone frowned.

Thankfully, this beast—though grotesque—was merely a third-grade early-stage.

To Mo Hua, such a creature was serious trouble. To Boss Hui, also a headache.

But to the late-stage Golden Core powerhouses present—the Demon Sect Commander, the bear-like demon cultivator, and the black-robed elder—not a threat at all.

Mo Hua secretly felt relieved.

This Lone Mountain tomb was full of deadly dangers. If not for these major demon cultivators, he wouldn't have made it this far.

"Keep moving."

The black-robed elder said grimly, stepping forward again.

Boss Hui, however, wore a puzzled expression. After a moment, he frowned and murmured:

"This place… really doesn't look like a tomb at all…"

He furrowed his brow, unable to put the feeling into words.

They continued on for a while longer—and suddenly, the terrain opened up.

A massive mining pit emerged before them—so vast its boundaries were lost in darkness.

Everyone's heart sank slightly as they walked up to the pit's edge, looking down.

In the pitch-dark night, the faint outlines within the mine gradually became clearer under Night Vision.

Boss Hui's face twisted in shock.

Even the demon cultivators—including the black-robed elder—had their pupils contract, gasping involuntarily.

What they saw was a collapsed, abandoned mine shaft.

No end in sight—only a seemingly bottomless chasm, filled entirely with corpses.

Like an ocean of death.

Some were rotting. Some desiccated. Some buried in stone. Some were gnawed apart by subterranean beasts. All were torn, broken, discarded like garbage.

Some still had expressions of pain—frozen in their final struggles.

Tattered clothing. No exception—all were mine workers. And they were countless.

Cries for help. Anger. Despair. Echoes of agony from another time.

Tomb raiders like them—hands stained in blood. Demon cultivators—killers beyond number.

But even so, this sight left them stunned and shaken.

This kind of death—raw, silent, and cruel.

"A mining disaster…?" Boss Hui's voice was hoarse, trembling.

"What kind of disaster could… kill this many people…?" Stone murmured in disbelief.

Mo Hua's pupils trembled—his face stone-cold.

He had read the Shen family's records, even documents from the Dao Court.

Not a single mention of a disaster on this scale.

Not one.

Even the internal jade slips Shen Xiuyan secretly gave him—not a trace.

A disaster this severe—the Shen family definitely knew.

And they had deliberately buried the truth.

At last, Mo Hua understood—why, centuries ago, Lone Mountain City suddenly had so many orphans.

Because their parents—had all died here.

Their children were left behind. No one to raise them. Naturally, they became orphans.

And those orphans, unable to cultivate, struggled to survive. Many died young. Their children became orphans again...

Generation after generation—

Lone Mountain City truly became the city of the "Lone."

But Mo Hua knew—this wasn't just some "accident."

He slowly turned to look at Shen Qingsheng.

Unconscious, dragged all the way by Stone, now awakened slightly by the ambient yin qi—his eyes widened in horror at the sight of endless corpses.

Young Master Xuan also looked at him, sneering:

"So this is your Shen family's work? This pit alone—at least a hundred thousand dead, wouldn't you say?"

Shen Qingsheng shouted in fear:

"Impossible! This can't be the Shen family's doing!"

Xuan Gongzi's grin deepened:

"Isn't this your Shen family's mine?"

"No!"

"It's not your Shen family's mine?"

"…It is."

Shen Qingsheng was flustered and panicking:

"No! Someone must be framing us! This slaughter—someone else did this beneath our mine!"

"The Shen family is righteous! A fifth-rank noble clan in Qianxue Prefecture, passed down by the Heavenly Dao Sect—we walk with honor and integrity!"

"This… this was a mining disaster! A natural calamity! It has nothing to do with us!"

He gritted his teeth.

Xuan Gongzi sneered:

"Doesn't matter who did it. If this ever gets exposed—if word gets out that there's a mass grave beneath your Shen family's mine—the Dao Court will tear you apart."

Shen Qingsheng turned deathly pale.

"These filthy peasants… so what if they're dead? What does that have to do with the Shen family…?"

Mo Hua's gaze turned cold.

Xuan Gongzi just shook his head. He didn't really care what Shen Qingsheng said.

Neither did the black-robed elder or the other demon cultivators.

They had more important things to do.

"The item we need is inside this mass grave…"

The black-robed elder seemed certain. He turned and looked at Mo Hua.

"Little brother… could you lead the way?"

Mo Hua blinked, a little startled.

"Lead the way to what?"

"The true tomb," the black-robed elder replied.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then shook his head:

"Elder… there are corpses everywhere in this pit. I can't find any traces of formations. I'm afraid… I won't be able to find the path."

He was telling the truth.

Moreover, tomb formations were his weakness.

And truthfully, Mo Hua had no idea what kind of tomb these demon cultivators were even looking for.

Let alone trying to find it in this bottomless, corpse-filled pit where there was no sense of direction at all.

The black-robed elder turned to look at Boss Hui.

Boss Hui's face showed clear hesitation. He also shook his head and said,

"This mass grave is, at best, a 'chaotic burial ground,' not a proper constructed tomb. There's no structure or order to it—I can't do much here either."

The black-robed elder stared deeply at Boss Hui for a moment, confirming he wasn't lying. He frowned slightly, then turned toward the Demon Sect Commander and asked:

"Can you sense anything?"

Sense…?

Mo Hua's heart stirred, and he covertly looked toward the demon cultivator covered in evil dragon patterns.

The Demon Commander pulled out a knife, sliced open his wrist, and cupped the flowing blood in his hand.

That deep crimson blood seemed to tremble in his palm—as if being pulled by some unseen force.

"Move out," the commander said, his voice low and authoritative.

Then, without hesitation, his burly figure leapt straight into the mass grave.

The others hesitated briefly but could only follow behind.

Jumping into the mass grave, all they could see were the corpses of miners who had died in hopeless despair. The chilling atmosphere seeped into the bones.

Thankfully, this massive pit was formed from a collapsed mine shaft, so between the mounds of bodies, there were still narrow pathways to walk.

The group followed these mountain paths, weaving their way through the densely packed sea of corpses.

Mo Hua couldn't shake the fear that the bodies around them would suddenly move—rise up and devour them.

But fortunately, these corpses weren't like the corpse fiends they'd encountered earlier. They didn't stir. They really were just… corpses.

Still, the longer Mo Hua looked, the more he felt something was off.

By all logic, with so many cultivators dying tragically here, there should be a surge of death qi and resentment.

Over time, such negative forces would surely cause these corpses to undergo corpse mutations.

And yet… nothing.

They were just… lying there. Stacked together. Not even a hint of mutation.

Mo Hua frowned, examined more carefully—and then something clicked.

"These corpses… seem drained?"

"Something's been extracting the death qi and resentment from them?"

His pupils trembled slightly. Mo Hua averted his gaze and kept walking with the group.

After a while, he suddenly looked up—his pupils constricting.

Within his divine sense field, he noticed that the space ahead—the sky—was different.

Floating there were countless… fragmented spirits?

They were incomplete, tattered human-like shadows—more like wandering ghosts than full-fledged demonic entities.

And they were blocking the path forward.

Just then, the black-robed elder raised his hand.

"Stop."

Everyone halted.

He frowned, then turned to Boss Hui and said,

"Boss Hui, there's heavy yin energy ahead."

Boss Hui didn't dare be careless. He pulled out a jade talisman, bit his finger, smeared blood on it—and the jade immediately lit up with a sinister green glow.

His expression grew grim as he murmured,

"Something unclean lies ahead."

Mo Hua's heart stirred.

"So that's it…"

Turns out, none of them—including Boss Hui, or even the experienced Second Elder of the Demon Sect—could actually see these wandering ghosts like he could.

They could only sense the yin aura vaguely, and rely on special tools to detect.

Mo Hua wasn't afraid of these ghosts.

But he was curious—did Boss Hui have any means to deal with them?

The black-robed elder muttered,

"I do not practice the Ghost Dao…"

Then looked to Boss Hui and asked:

"Your Maoshan arts should include techniques to ward off ghosts, yes?"

Boss Hui frowned.

"Ghosts differ from zombies—they are intangible, tied to divine consciousness. Within Maoshan traditions, only disciples with innately strong spiritual sense can pursue such arts. It's not a skill anyone can just learn."

He sighed.

"I'm dull by nature, never managed to inherit those legacies. But… I have picked up some simple ghost-avoiding methods for tomb raiding. Whether it'll work here… can't say for sure."

"Doesn't matter," said the black-robed elder. "Try it anyway."

Boss Hui nodded.

"This method is called—'Lighting the Human Lantern.'"

"Human… lantern?"

Boss Hui nodded again.

"When we suspect there are ghosts in a tomb, we sometimes bring along a living person, use their spiritual sense to light a lantern, and have them walk ahead to clear the path."

The black-robed elder looked at Mo Hua, then at Shen Qingsheng.

"What kind of person works best?"

Boss Hui replied,

"Young, pure blood, pure heart, sharp mind, full spiritual sea… ideally has some formation knowledge."

"Spirits love those types the most."

Mo Hua was stunned for a second—then rolled his eyes silently.

Just say my name, why don't you? Why go through all that description?

So it turns out… they brought him along to be used as the "Human Lantern."

Sure enough, the black-robed elder turned to Mo Hua, nodded slightly—

Then reached out and grabbed Shen Qingsheng instead:

"Use him as the lantern."

Boss Hui wasn't surprised.

"Alright."

Shen Qingsheng looked horrified.

Wait, what?! That description wasn't even about me—!

Boss Hui took out a golden circlet that resembled an oil lamp.

Shen Qingsheng shrieked,

"Stop! Do you know who my father is?! You can't do this to me! I—!"

Boss Hui clamped a hand over his throat.

"Scream again and I'll kill you."

Shen Qingsheng's face twisted in fury, but in the end he deflated—too scared to resist.

Boss Hui fastened the golden circlet around his forehead.

The circlet locked into place, pressing tightly against acupoints like the Hundred Convergences and Spirit Court, which connected directly to the spiritual sea.

Atop the circlet sat a lantern socket.

Boss Hui inserted a white candle into the socket and lit it with a faint white flame.

As the flame sparked to life, a hazy glow began to illuminate the path ahead.

Shen Qingsheng stood blankly, not feeling pain or discomfort.

But Mo Hua could see it clearly—his divine sense was being drawn out, burning with the candle flame, and dispersing like smoke into the surroundings.

Boss Hui then ordered: "You—walk in front."

Boss Hui ordered Shen Qingsheng,

"You—walk in front."

Shen Qingsheng cursed under his breath, but didn't dare disobey. With the golden circlet lantern still strapped to his head, he had no choice but to play the role of the "Human Lantern", leading the way.

Sure enough, the ghosts in the surroundings gathered around him, drawn to the divine sense smoke burned by the lantern, feeding off his spiritual sea.

After consuming that smoke, the spirits became oddly peaceful—no violent outbursts, no attacks on the cultivators.

The group followed behind Shen Qingsheng, passing through the mountain path riddled with ghosts, completely untouched by any demonic entity. It was unusually safe.

Mo Hua was quietly astonished. He hadn't imagined such a bizarre method could actually exist.

As Shen Qingsheng walked ahead, he was fine at first—his divine sense was plentiful, and using it to light the lantern didn't cause him pain initially.

But as they went on, he began to feel something "draining" inside his head.

Bit by bit, his divine sense was being burned dry.

And the burning pain started to intensify.

That was when it hit him—"What the hell is this...?"

He reached up to remove the lantern, but Boss Hui grabbed his arm.

"Stay still, brat. Try anything and I'll cut you down," Boss Hui said coldly.

He showed no courtesy toward Shen Qingsheng.

Inwardly, Shen Qingsheng wanted to curse eighteen generations of Boss Hui's ancestors—but he was completely at their mercy and had no power to resist.

He could only endure being used as a walking lantern.

The group continued forward.

Shen Qingsheng's face grew paler by the step. His divine sense dried up, and his mind felt like it was being skinned from the inside.

Though not a formation master, he now understood what it felt like to have your brain wrung dry and your spirit withered.

Fortunately, after a little longer, they finally exited the "Ghost Path."

The yin energy faded, and Mo Hua could see the ghosts dispersing.

Only then did Boss Hui remove the lantern from Shen Qingsheng's head.

He didn't want to kill Shen Qingsheng, after all.

They didn't know what else lay ahead. It was useful to keep a spare "Human Lantern" alive—even just to light the way again.

If Shen Qingsheng died, they'd have to use Mo Hua instead.

And honestly, Boss Hui felt it would be a bit of a shame to burn Mo Hua's brain.

They moved deeper into the bottom of the mass grave, and the blood in the Demon Commander's palm began to tremble even more violently.

Something within this pit—something sharing his bloodline—was resonating with him.

For the first time, Mo Hua sensed a clear emotion on this otherwise terrifying and commanding man.

The Demon Commander moved his massive frame and pressed forward.

After walking a while longer, they reached a broad, open expanse within the mountain.

At first glance, it seemed unremarkable. But strangely, despite being deep inside the mass grave, this clearing had no corpses at all.

It felt like a purified land.

Or perhaps… a sacred place that could not be defiled.

The blood in the Demon Commander's palm pulsed restlessly. His voice was hoarse, low, and trembling with suppressed excitement:

"It's here…"

Mo Hua's heart tightened.

He could feel it—he was very, very close to something important.

Something deeply connected to his fate.

Something that made his chest surge with a faint, inexplicable excitement.

But he couldn't yet say what.

The Demon Commander, following the pull of bloodline resonance, circled the area—

Then stopped before a blank cliff face.

It was wide, barren, and featureless.

Suddenly, the dragon tattoos on his body lit up, evil energy surged, and with a resounding dragon roar, the Demon Commander threw a single punch—

BOOM!

The entire cliff face shattered into rubble.

Dust and debris rained down, and smoke billowed outward.

When the smoke cleared—what was revealed behind the broken cliff was...

A colossal, majestic gate.

Its surface was forged from brilliant yellow brass, inlaid with all kinds of gemstones, carved with ornate reliefs—noble and magnificent.

Beyond the gate: pavilions, towers, flowing radiance—

A golden palace, dazzling beyond belief.

It was… a temple.

In this gloomy mass grave, the appearance of such a glorious, golden divine temple left everyone shocked and bewildered.

Mo Hua, however, frowned.

Something about this place felt eerily familiar.

"Familiar…" He scanned the temple's outer walls, his gaze drawn—almost involuntarily—toward the gem-encrusted, opulent door.

On it, an elaborate relief had been carved.

It depicted a radiant divine figure, clad in golden scale armor, wielding a mountain-crushing halberd. His long face bore an expression of chilling authority, eyes filled with divine dominance—gazing down upon all living beings.

Mo Hua stared at the face for a long time… and then his mouth slowly dropped open.

That face… That's— Huangshan-jun?!

Deep in Lone Mountain, beneath the sea of corpses, hidden at the bottom of the mass grave…

This lavish golden temple… Was actually— A temple of Huangshan-jun?!

(End of this Chapter)