Chapter 725 – Breakthrough
"Oh, oh." Mo Hua nodded.
Cheng Mo looked around, then asked Mo Hua and Situ Jian,
"Are you two still planning to watch?"
Situ Jian turned to look at Mo Hua.
Mo Hua thought for a moment and shook his head,
"Let's head back for now. Alchemy's not that interesting. If we've got time later, we can come back for another look."
"Alright!"
Cheng Mo and Situ Jian both agreed.
So the three of them left Mount Daolun and returned to their sect.
Back in the sect, Mo Hua resumed his usual cultivation routine: breaking through bottlenecks, drawing array formations, and refining armor.
But whenever he had free time, he would still visit Mount Daolun to observe the Dao Discussion Conference.
After all, it was the greatest event in Qianxue Prefecture, only held once every three years.
Mo Hua found himself unexpectedly fond of it.
He paused, slightly dazed.
Especially recently, he had been exchanging many artifact refinement insights with Master Gu, a third-grade Golden Core craftsman.
Mo Hua had also taken the lead in designing a batch of refinement array diagrams, customizing a large number of spiritual tools. To make these tools compatible with array structures, he'd done extensive research.
He owed his survival as a sickly child with a strong divine sense but weak body to Old Mister Feng's careful treatment.
Then came the Artifact Refinement Competition.
Danqing Sect, one of the Twelve Prominent Schools of Qianxue Prefecture, was known for its focus on alchemy. Most of its disciples were lifelong alchemists.
But Mo Hua wasn't one for being in the spotlight—it didn't suit his low-key and modest personality.
However, his vision and strategic understanding of artifact refinement had improved significantly.
Danqing Sect's atmosphere reminded Mo Hua of Old Mister Feng.
"The tree that stands out in the forest is the first to be felled."
He didn't plan to participate, but he figured it was worth keeping an eye on the event.
Whenever he had free time, he would stop by to observe the refiners at work, taking notes, reflecting, and even refining his own array design concepts—a practice that proved highly beneficial.
A few days later, the Artifact Refinement Competition came to an end.
To Mo Hua's surprise, the winner wasn't from the Twelve Prominent Schools or the Hundred Sects known for artifact mastery—but from Tai'a Sect, one of the Eight Great Gates, and a sect with some ties to the Great Void Sect.
He remembered that Senior Brother Ouyang Feng, with whom he'd once interacted, was also from Tai'a Sect.
But that was something to worry about six years later. For now, it wasn't urgent—he'd wait and see.
So, Mo Hua remained undecided on whether to compete in the Dao Discussion Conference in the future.
The conference continued on schedule.
Mo Hua did a bit of mental math: six years from now, if he reached the late Foundation Establishment stage, he might have to step onto that stage and compete with prodigies from hundreds of sects.
Mo Hua suddenly thought of Old Mister Feng, the First-Rank Alchemist from Tongxian City.
All of this echoed his master's teachings:
"The tallest tree in the forest is the one the wind strikes first."
The winning artifact method was a sword-forging technique.
Even if he didn't participate now, that didn't mean he wouldn't in the future.
As for the Tai'a Sect's champion, they were likely a senior of Ouyang Feng—probably a year or two above him.
Of course, Mo Hua's actual artifact refinement level was still nothing to brag about—he couldn't even swing a second-grade refining hammer properly.
He would drop by whenever he had time.
Stroking his chin thoughtfully, Mo Hua muttered,
"Tai'a Sect… Sword forging method…"
He wasn't very concerned.
The schedule for this year's Dao Discussion Conference went: alchemy, artifact refinement, talismans, formations, and lastly swordsmanship.
These were things many rule-following disciples—those who meticulously studied the traditional path of refining—couldn't easily replicate.
Alchemy was for saving lives and curing illness.
Though in truth, Mo Hua's artifact skills were worse than his alchemy, at least he understood the field.
He didn't recognize the person who won first place in alchemy.
He'd only heard that she was a senior sister from Danqing Sect, two years his senior.
In the end, it was all a group of people lighting furnaces and fussing over the art of flame control, skill, and timing—then getting graded based on pill completion time, success rate, and appearance.
Next up was the Talisman Competition.
Talismans were what Mo Hua was least familiar with.
Talisman-making, put simply, involved infusing spiritual power into a pre-crafted jade talisman, sealing a spell inside. When activated, the spell could be unleashed instantly.
There were cultivation thresholds for using them, but they generally didn't require the user to expend much extra spiritual energy.
It was a handy way to supplement combat power.
Talisman-making itself also blended multiple cultivation trades—it required knowledge of refining and formation arrays, as both were needed to make the jade talismans.
But the most crucial thing for a talisman maker was: spiritual power.
Outstanding talisman makers were all spiritual cultivators with vast spiritual reserves, and mastery over either rare or high-grade spells.
This made it naturally incompatible with Mo Hua.
Though technically a spiritual cultivator, Mo Hua had terrible spiritual roots and weak spiritual energy.
While he did know many spells, they were mostly low-level, common street spells—because he followed the "master-all" path.
On top of that, jade talisman bases were expensive.
Mo Hua was too stingy to buy them.
He already felt a pinch when buying array mediums and spirit ink.
So of all cultivation disciplines, talisman crafting was his weakest.
Despite scoring one A and six C's, the talisman category was his worst "C"—nearly dropping into the "D" tier.
So he only glanced at the Talisman Competition and didn't even bother checking who won.
After that came the Formation Competition.
This one had the fewest viewers.
Of the four Dao arts—alchemy, refinement, talismans, and formations—formation arrays were scheduled last.
But by then, most disciples had already lost interest.
Even more so because the next and final event was the Sword Discussion Tournament—the true spectacle of the Dao Discussion.
Everyone's attention had shifted to the upcoming clash of prodigies from the Four Great Sects, Eight Great Gates, Twelve Prominent Schools, and Hundred Sects.
Formations just weren't popular.
And among the various Dao paths, formation mastery—though noble—was also the most boring to watch.
Alchemy had blazing furnaces, rising flames.
Artifact refinement had heavy hammers and showers of sparks.
Talisman crafting had spell formations and glowing light.
But formations? Just drawing diagrams on the floor.
Unless you were an insider with deep formation knowledge, all you saw was a bunch of disciples crouched over, drawing on the ground for hours. Completely unintelligible and mind-numbing.
So the Formation Competition ended up the coldest, quietest of the bunch.
But Mo Hua was the opposite.
He was most interested in the Formation Competition.
Any match of real significance—he was there, watching.
After observing many disciples' formations, Mo Hua got a decent grasp of the skill level of the prodigies participating.
They were certainly stronger than him.
All were uniformly late Foundation Establishment, most with nineteen-pattern divine sense.
Some had peak eighteen-pattern, but they were just "filler" candidates.
Their sects didn't have strong formation legacies, so even getting a few disciples with eighteen-pattern divine sense to represent them was already impressive.
The competition didn't begin with nineteen-pattern arrays either.
It started from seventeen-pattern, then moved to eighteen, and finally nineteen.
Each round progressively eliminated participants.
Those who made it to the end were all late Foundation Establishment cultivators with deeply refined nineteen-pattern divine sense, most of whom had already passed the Second-Grade Senior Formation Master certification.
Mo Hua didn't yet know how to construct nineteen-pattern formations.
But that was only because his divine sense wasn't strong enough—not because the formations were inherently too difficult.
Even the final match, a complex and obscure formation known as the Post-Heaven Eight Trigrams Hidden Storage Formation, didn't seem especially difficult to him.
"This level…" Mo Hua couldn't help but think,
"Six years from now… could I actually take first place?"
Even thinking it felt unbelievable.
"First place in the Formation Conference of Qianxue Prefecture?"
He quickly shook his head.
It probably won't be that simple…
One mustn't aim too high too soon. Stay grounded and take it one step at a time!
Mo Hua silently reminded himself—not to underestimate the heroes of the world, and not to let arrogance cloud his heart.
He slowly nodded, calming his mind and maintaining a humble attitude before continuing to observe.
He watched all the way until the Sword Discussion Tournament concluded.
To Mo Hua's surprise, the top three of the Formation Competition were all disciples from the Four Great Sects.
Even Myriad Formations Sect, known for specializing in formations and carrying "Formation (陣)" in its name, only secured fourth place.
The champion was a young man surnamed Shen—handsome in appearance, but with an arrogant air and eyes full of disdain.
He wore a lavish white and gold Dao robe.
Mo Hua recognized that robe.
It was the Dao robe of the Heavenly Dao Sect.
"The champion of the Formation Competition… is from the Heavenly Dao Sect…"
One of the Four Great Sects of Qianxue Prefecture—the very sect written on Mo Hua's Sect Admission Token.
The very same sect that turned me away with lofty excuses, rejecting me because my spiritual roots were too weak…
Even now, remembering that moment left a sour taste in Mo Hua's heart.
He couldn't help but purse his lips and mutter to himself:
"Looked down on me, did they…"
Mo Hua didn't see himself as petty, but even if he didn't get to eat the steamed bun, he still had to win back some pride.
And one day, he'd eat that bun too.
"Heavenly Dao Sect…"
Mo Hua gave a quiet snort and etched the name firmly in his memory.
Around him, elders and cultivators from other sects and noble clans rose to their feet, offering congratulations to the champion disciple.
While few disciples paid much attention to the Formation Competition, the status of formations in the cultivation world was special—so more elders showed up here than at the alchemy, artifact, or talisman events.
The Shen family disciple bowed in return with respectful gestures, but his face still carried a haughty look.
The Heavenly Dao Sect elders nearby also wore restrained yet prideful expressions as they exchanged pleasantries—acting as if victory had always been a given.
Thus, the Formation Competition concluded.
Some time later came the most anticipated event of all: the Sword Discussion Tournament.
Held at Mount Daolun like the rest, it wasn't until Mo Hua arrived that he finally understood the true meaning of "a grand event among grand events."
The entire mountain was teeming with life—voices surged like tides, and people packed the hillsides.
From top to bottom, it was wall-to-wall disciples from every sect.
Excitement, anticipation, admiration, and ambition filled every face.
Usually, expressions like these only appeared when students were heading home for holiday.
Even Mo Hua couldn't help but get swept up in the energy—his heart lifted in joy.
Cheng Mo, Situ Jian, and Hao Xuan were all there too.
Especially Cheng Mo—he had recently broken through to mid-stage Foundation Establishment, would be promoted next year, and had nothing pressing to do at the moment, so he ran off to Mount Daolun every day.
As a body cultivator, it was his dream to participate in the Sword Tournament.
The event was held in specially designated areas of Mount Daolun.
Each area had varied terrain—hills, water, uneven ground—all custom-designed for five-person team matches in sword combat.
Above the arena, array formations shimmered.
Mo Hua swept his divine sense across them and was visibly shaken.
"Fifth-grade…"
These formations weren't just any fifth-grade formations—they were Fifth-Grade Void Formations, infused with the power of space!
But…
Mo Hua furrowed his brow in confusion.
"Why would they need fifth-grade formations here?"
Cheng Mo didn't know. Hao Xuan just shook his head.
It was Situ Jian who explained:
"These formations are to protect the disciples participating in the Sword Tournament."
Situ Jian wasn't an expert on formation ranks, but he was familiar with the facilities involved in the tournament.
There wasn't a single disciple in all of Qianxue Prefecture who didn't dream of joining the Sword Tournament.
Situ Jian was no exception—especially since he was a sword cultivator by both practice and name.
If he could earn a good ranking in the Sword Tournament, not only would the elders of his sect value him more—he would also bring glory to his clan, and his future prospects would be limitless.
He continued:
"The Sword Tournament is meant to be a sparring event, not an actual fight to the death."
"But everyone here is in the Foundation Establishment stage. The moment things get serious, no one can hold back their strength."
"So, some of the senior cultivators of Qianxue Prefecture joined forces to construct these fifth-grade void formations—to ensure the safety of all participants."
"After all, those who can enter the sects of Qian Prefecture are either incredibly talented, from prominent lineages, or both. If something really happened to them, it would be hard to justify."
Mo Hua still didn't quite understand:
"But how exactly do these formations guarantee safety?"
The actual matches in the Sword Tournament were chaotic and intense. With his current understanding of formations, he couldn't quite grasp how safety could be ensured within such a system.
Situ Jian pointed to the disciples on the field:
"Before entering the arena, each participant is given a 'Life Talisman.'"
"The Life Talisman is linked to the fifth-grade formation—it takes the damage on behalf of the disciple. If the damage exceeds a certain threshold, the talisman shatters, and the disciple is considered defeated."
"At the same time, the void formation is triggered, and using spatial power, it forcibly teleports the disciple out of the arena—guaranteeing their safety…"
Mo Hua froze for a second—then his eyes lit up in sudden understanding.
So that's how Fifth-Grade Void Formations were used!
"Then this 'Life Talisman'... is it similar to a 'Lifespan Soul Talisman'?" Mo Hua asked.
"Somewhat, but not really," Situ Jian replied seriously. "Though the Life Talisman also involves fifth-grade void power, it's nothing compared to a Lifespan Soul Talisman."
"In the entire Qianxue Prefecture, only the most elite heirs of the top-tier clans have the right to have a Nascent Soul ancestor plant a Lifespan Soul Talisman for them—at great cost to their own cultivation foundation."
"And those kinds of disciples are basically all concentrated in the Four Great Sects."
"As for our Situ Clan… we've barely touched the threshold of fifth-grade, and we're still not qualified to create that kind of talisman…"
Situ Jian sighed.
Mo Hua frowned slightly.
Lifespan Soul Talisman…
Before he could think more deeply, Cheng Mo suddenly shouted, "It's starting! It's starting! Mo Hua, little senior brother, look!"
Mo Hua turned his gaze. Within one of the arenas—isolated and protected by formations—the two teams of disciples had already begun their match.
This five-on-five format was far more complex.
It tested not only individual cultivation and combat ability, but also team coordination, tactics, and strategy.
Once combat began, the situation quickly became chaotic and ever-changing.
It was Mo Hua's first time watching such a thing, and he didn't fully understand many of the rules.
He could only learn as he watched.
But to be fair, it was way more exciting than alchemy, smithing, or talisman crafting.
Especially when fellow disciples from the Great Void Sect faced off against other sects.
Because of that sense of identity and loyalty, the excitement was natural.
No one wanted their sect to lose.
Teams would clash—body cultivators charging like tigers with sword and blade, pressing hard against the spiritual cultivators.
The spiritual cultivators would retreat while casting spells to counter.
Victory and defeat often came down to a split second, a single misstep. A moment's carelessness could trigger a chain of events, thrilling and nerve-wracking.
Before long, Mo Hua was completely absorbed.
In the blink of an eye, the sky had turned dark.
Without realizing it, he had watched for an entire day.
Mo Hua let out a long breath.
"This Sword Tournament… really is addicting."
Time had flown by.
But considering it only happened once every three years, Mo Hua allowed himself this small "indulgence." Whenever he had time, he would join Cheng Mo to watch the matches.
And the more he watched, the more subtleties he noticed.
Though it was supposed to be a test of teamwork, many sects didn't actually have much synergy between teammates.
More often, it was every person for themselves.
They simply tried to gang up on lone targets when the opportunity arose.
Which, ultimately, was the most basic tactic: outnumbering the enemy.
Teamwork, in essence, was just a way to create numbers advantage.
Most of the strategies used were simply variations of "mob the weak link."
And while it looked impressive, Mo Hua felt the tactics were far too monotonous.
In fact, it wasn't even as creative as the demon-hunting strategies he'd seen from the uncles and elders back in Tongxian City—who used ambushes, bait tactics, long-range suppression, close-quarters assault, and layered encirclements.
Mo Hua frowned in thought, then slowly understood.
Those demon-hunters fought real life-and-death battles. They valued only what worked—no matter how dirty or ruthless.
The Sword Tournament, at its core, was still just a sparring match.
And among fellow disciples, it wasn't like everyone was of one heart—competition existed within sects, too.
Some large sects seemed to intentionally build up the reputation of a few core disciples.
During a match, the others would act as cannon fodder, wearing down the opponents' spiritual power and stamina.
Only then would the "core disciple" enter the stage, perform an impressive 1v2 or even 1v3, and seize the victory—earning the awe and admiration of onlookers.
Mo Hua scoffed at this.
Using the Sword Tournament as a publicity stunt?
That would be fine if it was just a spar.
But what if they faced vicious demonic cultivators or ruthless evil cultivators in the future?
Those bastards were like centipedes—hard to kill, and always ready to bite back.
If you played hero like this, wouldn't you just be handing them an opportunity for a counterattack?
Or… maybe these "core disciples" were destined to join the Dao Court or high-ranking families—never needing to get their hands dirty on the front lines.
Mo Hua shook his head.
But in the end, none of this had anything to do with him.
He was just a spectator.
Still, with a mindset of "know yourself and know your enemy," Mo Hua made sure to watch the matches regularly.
He studied what kinds of techniques other sects practiced, what kinds of spells they specialized in, what tricks they liked to use.
He observed their sect cultures—whether the disciples seemed harmonious on the surface while scheming underneath.
And meanwhile, he considered:
"If I were the one fighting… what would I do? What would I use?"
Mo Hua began compiling everything in his mind.
If the day came when he needed it, he'd be ready.
Aside from watching the Sword Tournament, Mo Hua didn't neglect his cultivation.
After countless days and nights of hard work, the mysterious formation in his sea of consciousness was finally deciphered.
The bottleneck broke.
Everything fell into place.
Just as the Sword Tournament was nearing its end—Mo Hua's cultivation finally broke through.
He stepped past the early stage and entered the mid-stage of Foundation Establishment.
His spiritual power grew deeper and denser, like flowing mercury.
From that moment on, Mo Hua was a true mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.
(End of Chapter)