Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 984: The Great Demon Hall

The Great Demon Hall?

Mo Hua was startled, then slowly nodded.

Back when the Demonic Sect was being purged, he had looked into its origins through the archives of both the Dao Court and the Great Void Sect. He had come across those three words—"Great Demon Hall."

The end of a heretic cultivator was to become a demonic cultivator who passed on techniques.

The end of a demonic cultivator was to found a sect and preach the demonic path.

And the end of a demonic sect… was the Great Demon Hall—ruled by Demon Lords, towering above all, raising countless blood slaves and spirit slaves, devouring flesh and marrow, monopolizing everything...

But the Great Demon Hall was so ancient, so distant in time, that few remembered it anymore.

Elder Zheng solemnly said:

"Over twenty thousand years ago—before the Dao Calendar began—the Dao Court had yet to unify the land. The cultivation world was plunged in chaos and darkness."

"And what ruled that world back then… was the Great Demon Hall, which commanded countless demonic sects."

"The Great Demon Hall held dominion over everything. The demonic path ran rampant, countless demonic sects rose, and demonic cultivators spread across the land."

"Corpse cultivators refined corpses, blood cultivators drank blood, beast cultivators ate flesh, evil cultivators drained essence, demon cultivators tempered souls... It was a bloody world of raw, brutal survival."

"Demonic qi shrouded the heavens. The earth was soaked in blood. Countless weak cultivators were slain, massacred, enslaved, turned into furnaces, devoured alive, their souls extracted and refined…"

"Add to that natural disasters and the rise of malicious spirits… Tens of thousands of cultivators died in rapid succession."

"The population of cultivators plummeted. The power of the human race fell into steep decline. For thousands of miles, the land was barren, desolate, nearly extinct."

"Amidst this desperate crisis, righteous cultivators steeled themselves through suffering, clung to the Dao with firm hearts, and, with burning resolve, rose to purge the world of demons. They carved a path of righteousness through a world full of thorns."

"One by one, righteous sects were born. The forces of righteousness gradually grew."

"Every righteous cultivator was firm in their Dao heart, making it their mission to protect the Dao and eradicate evil."

"After thousands of years, countless righteous ancestors shed blood and gave their lives, braving thorns and blades, until finally… the demonic cultivators were slaughtered to near extinction."

"Even those once-invincible demon ancestors, with their overwhelming evil power, had to retreat and hide in shame."

"The remnants of the demonic path could only lurk in shadows, barely surviving."

"The world was purified. The Dao Court rose, unifying the Nine Provinces, enforcing Dao Law, burning and banning all demonic techniques and texts. That was the beginning of peace and prosperity for the next twenty thousand years, and the rise of today's innumerable cultivators and the thriving Nine Provinces."

"As for the Great Demon Hall, and that nightmarish, bloody history that cost countless cultivators their lives—over the long ages, it's faded into myth. Few remember, and even fewer speak of it…"

As Elder Zheng spoke of this ancient past, his voice surged with emotion and righteous indignation.

Mo Hua listened, heart stirred by the tragic history.

But then, confusion crept into his eyes.

Why is Elder Zheng telling me all this… now?

Elder Zheng looked Mo Hua in the eye and asked:

"Mo Hua… do you think the 'demonic path' can ever be truly wiped out?"

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

"As long as the human heart contains greed, anger, ignorance, desire, and delusion… then 'demons' will be born."

"Demons come from people. As long as people exist, demons will exist. As long as there are cultivators, there will be demonic cultivators."

Elder Zheng nodded approvingly:

"The human heart breeds demons. Without cultivating the Dao heart, one is bound to fall to demonic thoughts."

"And once the Dao heart falters, demonic thoughts arise… eventually leading people astray, causing them to fall into demonic practices—killing, harming, becoming demons themselves."

"That's from the perspective of the individual. But what about from the perspective of factions?"

"What, in your eyes, is the difference between a demonic sect… and a righteous sect?"

Mo Hua frowned, pondering:

"The Dao of humans… sacrifices the weak to serve the strong…"

"Demonic sects cultivate through evil methods. They kill and enslave the weak—drinking their blood, eating their flesh, devouring their spirits, consuming their souls… That is the exploitation of the lives, foundations, and very Dao of others. That's what makes it wicked."

Elder Zheng nodded, sighing:

"Well said."

Then his gaze sharpened.

"But what about the righteous sects? What about the great clans and major sects? Do they follow the Heavenly Dao… or merely the human one?"

Mo Hua froze—then suddenly understood what Elder Zheng was implying. Cold sweat began to bead on his back.

Elder Zheng said slowly:

"The great clans and major sects hoard resources, extract labor, strip itinerant cultivators of the very basics needed to stand. Once they've squeezed them dry, they discard them like trash."

"Isn't that exploitation too? Just... dressed up in softer words."

"But even that gentleness will evolve, slowly but surely."

"You know… about the Shen Clan, don't you?"

He glanced at Mo Hua meaningfully.

Mo Hua nodded.

"That's the perfect example," Elder Zheng said.

"The lowest-tier cultivators were stripped of their spirit stones, their labor, their time, and energy… Until the only thing they had left, was their own broken bodies."

"And once they were deemed useless… they were discarded. Trapped. Killed."

"But what the Shen Clan did—wasn't even the worst-case scenario."

His tone turned cold and clinical:

"Because at the very least… they still held on to a sliver of so-called 'morality.' They only disposed of the 'useless' miners they'd already drained dry."

"But were those miners truly useless?"

Elder Zheng shook his head.

"No. Their skin can be flayed. Their blood can be drunk. Their flesh can be eaten. Their souls can be refined. After death, their corpses can be turned into zombies."

"That… is true demonhood."

"The Shen Clan didn't go that far. But human greed is infinite. Exploitation never stops… Sooner or later, a clan will cross that final line."

"And once they do… Once that line is crossed… That clan becomes a demonic sect. 'Righteousness' turns into 'Demonhood.'"

Mo Hua's expression shifted.

Elder Zheng stared into him, voice grim and heavy:

"Thus— Righteous and demonic are opposites, clearly distinguished… But at their root… they are the same."

"Demons are not born. Demons are not hatched. Demons are transformed."

"They arise from hearts. They arise from clans. And yes— They even arise… from the Dao Court itself."

"Once the Dao Court fully unifies the world— When it becomes the deepest-rooted, strongest, most absolute force… Then perhaps one day, it too will complete its transformation…"

Elder Zheng paused. His voice dropped to a chilling whisper:

"...into a new Great Demon Hall."

Mo Hua's pupils shrank. A chill ran down his spine.

This… was something he had never even considered.

But then the memories—everything that happened at Lone Mountain, all the facts surrounding the Shen Clan—flooded back.

The more he thought, the colder his heart grew.

"But… these things…" Mo Hua's voice faltered.

"Surely the sects of righteousness—the old ancestors of the great clans—they must be aware of this… right?"

Elder Zheng said flatly: "People rarely notice such things. Once profit is involved, they rush in to compete—rarely pausing to ask what they are truly doing."

"Some don't know. Some don't want to know. And some… even if they do know… are helpless to change it."

"And then there are those… who welcome it."

Mo Hua's eyes trembled. He fell into a heavy silence.

Elder Zheng sighed, then added:

"There is… one even more pressing problem."

"More pressing?"

Elder Zheng asked:

"Tell me, Mo Hua… what is the true difference between righteousness and demonhood?"

Mo Hua almost said the cultivation method—but caught himself. That felt too shallow.

He thought carefully, then said slowly:

"...The Dao Heart?"

Elder Zheng nodded.

"Twenty thousand years ago, when demonhood ran rampant… It was the firm and unshakable Dao hearts of righteous cultivators that enabled them to survive adversity, rise against the odds, and eventually… bring down the Great Demon Hall that once blotted out the heavens."

"They carved out a path for the Nine Provinces and all sentient life."

"If there's one thing righteous cultivators must inherit… It's not power, nor fame, nor techniques— But that unwavering Dao Heart."

"But…"

Elder Zheng looked up at the sky over Qian Prefecture, at the distant, misty mountains, and the rows upon rows of sects nestled between them. He shook his head and sighed:

"Nowadays, we pass down techniques, we pass down Dao arts, we pass down formation methods, artifact refining, pill refinement, talismans—everything is passed down… everything except the Dao Heart."

"Cultivators possess power, but no Dao Heart—selfish, self-serving."

"They seize the world's fortune for personal gain. These are the so-called 'Heaven's Chosen' produced by Qian Prefecture's top sects…"

Elder Zheng wore a bitter, self-mocking smile, then added in pain:

"Cultivation alone is an empty shell. The Dao Heart is the essence.

Without a Dao Heart, no matter how strong a cultivator becomes, in the end, they're nothing more than vessels for demonhood."

"And not just any vessel—but one with perfect spiritual roots, outstanding aptitude, having consumed vast resources and inherited the most supreme techniques… A perfect container for the demonic path."

There was deep, bone-deep worry in Elder Zheng's voice.

If, one day, a great catastrophe truly descended—if evil gods awoke, if heavenly demons returned, if the demonic path rose again… with the Dao Heart of today's cultivators, what would happen? He didn't even dare to imagine it.

And that wasn't the worst of it.

To protect their power, the noble clans monopolized legacies. The gap in resources and inheritances between clan disciples and common rogue cultivators had become too vast. The situation would only get worse.

Elder Zheng looked distant, sorrowful.

"Back then, I was full of youthful passion.

I left Zhen Prefecture and came to Qian Prefecture, joined the Heavenly Dao Sect, became an elder of one of the Four Great Sects—thinking maybe, just maybe, I could change something…"

"But after all these years of tireless effort, I've only battered myself bloody. I'm disheartened."

"In the grand scheme of things, I am small and insignificant. Even when I argue with all the logic in the world, it changes nothing…"

He sighed heavily, eyes dark and heavy.

Mo Hua's expression was equally grave.

Then Elder Zheng looked at him again and said softly:

"These words… I'll only say them once. Keep them buried in your heart. Never speak of them to anyone—especially anything regarding… the 'Great Demon Hall.'"

Mo Hua nodded solemnly.

With a wave of his hand, Elder Zheng withdrew the surrounding formations. He spoke gently:

"It's getting late. I have to pack. I won't keep you any longer."

"Take these formation diagrams and jade slips home. Study them well. You have great talent—your future will surely be limitless."

Mo Hua accepted the formation diagrams and jade slips with great care. Rising to his feet, he bowed deeply and said:

"Thank you, senior. I will remember your words with all my heart."

Elder Zheng nodded slightly and looked at Mo Hua one last time. A deep feeling of reluctance welled up inside him.

Soon, he would leave.

Once he departed across the great distance between Qian and Zhen Prefectures—thousands of miles apart—it was unknown when they might meet again.

If they ever did at all.

A cultivator's life had too many thresholds. Fail to cross just one, and your lifespan could be over in a few centuries.

And that's not even counting accidents—heaven's unpredictable storms, fate's cruel turns.

If Mo Hua were to meet with misfortune, die unexpectedly, or find his cultivation halted and life exhausted…

It would be too tragic.

Even if all went smoothly… and destiny remained unbroken… it might still be decades, even centuries, before they crossed paths again.

By then, what kind of person would Mo Hua have become?

Would he still hold fast to his heart and stride forward against all odds?

Or would he suffer calamity, change his nature, fall into depravity—and walk the path of demonic deviation?

There were too many unknowns in life.

Very, very few could maintain their Dao Heart from beginning to end.

As Elder Zheng thought this, anxiety stirred in his chest.

And then he heard Mo Hua's clear voice:

"Senior Zheng… the mountains are high, and the road is long. Please… take care of yourself."

Mo Hua's voice was calm, his gaze bright, laced with resolve and vibrant spirit.

Elder Zheng met his gaze, and something ineffable stirred—a faint, inexplicable spiritual rhythm. His heart quieted.

He smiled, as if releasing countless worries.

All those thoughts in his heart, in the end… condensed into a single, heartfelt wish:

"Take care…"

Mo Hua gave a respectful bow, then left reluctantly.

Elder Zheng remained standing in the doorway, watching him go.

Night had fallen.

He stood there for a long time.

Staring after Mo Hua's silhouette, as though watching the only flickering flame… left in the darkness before the long night descended.

After parting with Elder Zheng, Mo Hua returned to the Great Void Sect.

He sat alone before a desk in his residence, staring at a candle flame in silence.

Elder Zheng's words still echoed in his mind—

"So-called demons… are not born, not hatched… but transformed."

"Righteousness and demonhood may seem worlds apart… but in truth, they come from the same origin."

"The Great Demon Hall…"

A vague awareness stirred within Mo Hua—a Dao that spanned the entire world, etched into the destinies of all living beings.

A profound sense of urgency welled up in his chest.

Things… might be even more dire than he imagined.

And then, an even more terrifying thought crept into his heart.

"Heaven's Dao takes from the excess to nourish the lacking;

Man's Dao takes from the lacking to serve the excess…"

Only by aligning with Heaven's Dao, could one attain true immortality.

But if that was the case—then across this vast world… countless cultivators, though claiming to pursue the Dao and seek immortality…

Were in truth… walking a completely opposite path.

They were not cultivating the Heavenly Dao at all.

They were not becoming true immortals.

A deep, bone-chilling cold surged through Mo Hua's heart.

And if that was the state of the world… then if he truly wanted to prove the Heavenly Dao—if he wanted to become a true immortal—

He would have to go against the most powerful forces in the entire cultivation world.

The peril… the slaughter… just imagining it made his breath catch.

And even that might be the least of it.

That was just the visible part of the chessboard.

Could there also be terrifying, ancient forces lurking behind the curtain—secretly manipulating the path to immortality for some vast, sinister purpose?

Mo Hua trembled, lost in silence.

"Too difficult…"

Mo Hua sighed softly. Yet after that sigh, his gaze gradually grew firm.

If it's difficult, then it's the right path.

If becoming immortal were truly easy, then this world would already be filled with soaring immortals.

It was precisely because it was difficult… that it was worth pursuing.

It was because it was difficult… that achieving it would prove his greatness.

If he were to merely seek comfort, go with the flow—

Wouldn't that be squandering his divine path talent?

Wasting his fate with Master?

And letting down his parents, and all the elders and seniors who had taught and guided him along the way?

The night grew deep. The candle flame flickered.

Its light reflected in Mo Hua's eyes—bright as starlight.

"I must become… unimaginably strong…"

The next day, Mo Hua resumed his usual cultivation routine and practiced the Reverse Spirit Array.

In his spare time, he studied word by word the divine path insights he had heard from Huang Shanjun, using them to chart the direction for his divine sense advancement.

In the short term, neither his physical body nor his spiritual energy would improve drastically.

His array skills could improve—but that wasn't urgent.

What he could still strengthen was his divine sense. That was the root of both his array mastery and his Dao path through spiritual awareness.

Mo Hua's divine sense was already very strong.

But it was still not strong enough.

Especially after the battle with the Evil Fetus—he was very dissatisfied.

Outwardly, the Evil Fetus was slain. He had "won."

But Mo Hua knew full well… he hadn't truly won.

He had exploited a loophole—using the God-Slaying Sword to sever the divine corpse connection between the Evil Fetus and the mountain lord, forcing an internal collapse.

In the end, it was Huang Shanjun who unleashed divine arts to perish together with the Evil Fetus, allowing Mo Hua to narrowly escape and break free from the nightmare.

During that battle, even the vengeful ghosts of Lone Mountain had come to help him.

In truth, the victory at Lone Mountain… was all thanks to connections and favors.

He had won on "reputation" and "relationships."

"The one who walks the Dao gains support; the one who loses it finds little help."

That others helped him… proved that his Dao was righteous.

But Mo Hua also realized—this was not a good habit.

He could not stake success or failure on the help of others.

He disliked having his fate in life-and-death moments be out of his own control.

His divine sense must become even more powerful!

And the path to strength had two directions:

As Huang Shanjun suggested, he must continue walking the path of divine beings, breaking through the limits of "human" and allowing his divine sense to undergo morphic transformation, forming crystalline divine armor.

Simultaneously, he would continue refining and absorbing the dragon soul, to see if he could infuse his divine sense with draconic power.

If successful, he might also be able to manifest dragon scales, dragon claws, and wear draconic armor.

That would elevate his divine sense to a whole new level.

With this dual cultivation—coupled with tempering from array mastery, Dao transformation of divine sense, and the variability of the Heavenly Deduction Art—his spiritual awareness would grow stronger without end.

One day, it might even become strong enough to tear apart an evil god with his bare hands.

...But for now, that goal was still quite far off.

And even that still wasn't enough.

No matter how powerful divine sense became—it remained confined to the illusory realm of spiritual consciousness.

In the real world, he still needed direct combat power.

Fortunately, Mo Hua already had a plan.

He'd been pondering this for a while.

It was the "God-Slaying Out-of-Body Technique"— A method he had practiced many times before, but always failed due to his divine sense being under twenty marks.

Now, however, his divine awareness had condensed into a core. He was finally qualified to try again.

The technique involved condensing his illusory God-Slaying Sword, formed from divine sense—

Then releasing it through his eye aperture, launching it from his sea of consciousness, shattering the boundary between illusion and reality…

And using the sword of his mind… To kill flesh-and-blood enemies in the real world.

(End of this Chapter)