Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 82: Da Zhu

A disciple from the Qian Family recognized Da Zhu and shouted: "Chen Dazhu! Just go swing your hammer and stay out of this!"

Da Zhu sneered, "None of your damn business."

Mo Hua, with his sharp divine sense, noticed that Da Zhu had already appeared behind him the moment the Qian family disciple threw a punch—so he didn't bother dodging.

Of course, he also couldn't dodge even if he wanted to.

The punch from a body cultivator at the sixth layer of Qi Refining was fast. Mo Hua's powerful divine sense gave him ample reaction time, but his frail body wasn't strong enough to execute that reaction.

Luckily, Da Zhu intercepted the punch for him.

In Mo Hua's memory, Da Zhu was still that simple, honest guy who always smiled like a fool, treated others kindly, and liked to drop by his house for noodles—an apprentice in artifact forging. But now, Da Zhu's expression was cold and even carried a hint of menace.

"Chen Dazhu, step aside!" the Qian disciple threatened.

Not only did Da Zhu refuse, he even hoisted Mo Hua up and placed him behind him, shielding him completely with a careless expression.

"I'm not moving!"

Da Zhu was ten years older than Mo Hua and much larger. When he stood in front of Mo Hua, he blocked him from sight so thoroughly that the Qian family disciples couldn't even see a shadow of Mo Hua.

Seeing that Chen Dazhu wouldn't back down, one of them tried to reason with him,

"Chen Dazhu, this brat has nothing to do with you. Why stick your neck out like this?"

"I feel like it. What the hell does that have to do with you?"

Da Zhu wasn't good with words. He wanted to curse them out more, but couldn't think of what to say. Feeling like his momentum was fading, he sneakily turned to glance at Mo Hua.

Mo Hua got the message and poked his head out.

"So what if we're not related? You all suck up to Qian Xing like you're his blood relatives, but he still treats you like dogs!"

Da Zhu quickly nodded and echoed, "Right! Like dogs!"

The Qian family disciples turned beet red with embarrassment, but had no way to refute.

They all knew exactly how Qian Xing treated them—calling them dogs was actually giving them too much credit.

Sensing things weren't going his way, Qian Xing spoke coldly,

"You really want to go against the Qian Family?"

Da Zhu was about to say, So what if I do?

But Mo Hua tugged his sleeve—he immediately shut up, understanding that Mo Hua didn't want him to escalate.

Mo Hua poked his head out again and said: "Qian Xing, if your father knew you were bullying others under the Qian family's name and ruining its reputation, you think he'd regret giving birth to you? Maybe you weren't even born to him. Maybe you're not his son at all. Maybe not even your mother is your real mother?"

Qian Xing immediately got it—he was being called a bastard. Not just a bastard, but one not even worthy of being a Qian family bastard.

He had always lived a pampered life, and never had he been so humiliated as he was today. His eyes turned bloodshot. He waved to the men behind him and hissed: "Beat him to death! Skin him! Rip out his tendons! I'll talk to the Dao Court myself—do it without holding back!"

Seeing Qian Xing lose it, Mo Hua whispered to Da Zhu: "Big Brother Dazhu, there's a lot of them. Let's take this chance to run."

Da Zhu looked fearless. "No worries. We've got people too."

As soon as he said that, there was a commotion from behind them.

A group of teenagers came rushing over, carrying clubs and dragging hammers. They lined up behind Da Zhu.

"Brother Zhu, we brought the gear!" one of them shouted.

Mo Hua looked around and saw that most of them were disciples who trained under Master Chen in artifact forging. Naturally, their weapons of choice were hammers—some still glowing red-hot like freshly-forged spiritual weapon embryos. Others had iron rods and clubs.

They all gathered behind Da Zhu, surrounding Mo Hua in the center.

The Qian disciples began to hesitate. Their group had maybe one guy at the seventh layer of Qi Refining—the rest were at sixth layer. While their cultivation level was technically higher, they were used to bullying the weak and feared anyone tougher. Now that it might come to a real brawl, their confidence was wavering.

The opposing side was made of artifact forgers—brawny, broad-shouldered, thick-armed guys with fists the size of iron cauldrons. Taking even one punch from them didn't sound appealing.

Not to mention, these lower-tier cultivators were often the kind who would fight to the death.

"We're not trying to die here."

One of them leaned toward Qian Xing and whispered: "Young Master… this doesn't look good. Maybe we pull back for now and settle it later?"

Qian Xing glared: "What did you just say?"

Qian Xing's eyes were bloodshot as he stared him down with murderous intent.

The Qian family disciple trembled and said: "We… we're just worried for Young Master's safety. If a real fight breaks out and something happens to you, we won't be able to explain it to the Patriarch…"

Qian Xing slapped the disciple's cheek lightly and said coldly: "I'm the one feeding you, not my father. The only person you should be worried about explaining things to—is me. Making that brat Mo Hua die is the best explanation you can give me. Otherwise, start thinking about how you're going to explain yourself to me."

Cold sweat broke out on the faces of the Qian family disciples.

Qian Xing continued: "Relax. I've already sent for reinforcements. Just stall for a bit. Once this is done, each of you gets a hundred spirit stones. And whoever kills that brat Mo Hua—I'll talk to my father and get him a spot in the Qian family's direct bloodline."

The group exchanged glances. A direct bloodline spot... he was willing to offer that?

Whether it was true or not, it was worth the gamble.

One disciple gritted his teeth and said: "Happy to ease Young Master's worries!"

He turned toward Da Zhu and called out: "Da Zhu, I need a word with you."

Then he walked over. But as he neared, he suddenly drew a blade and slashed at Da Zhu. The blade gleamed with green spiritual energy and chilling, sinister aura.

Da Zhu's brow twitched. With a cold snort, he surged his blood qi and brought his massive hammer up to meet the strike.

But the disciple suddenly twisted his wrist, changing direction—dodging the hammer and aiming the blade right at Mo Hua behind Da Zhu!

It was all part of his plan.

Even if he took a direct hit from Da Zhu, it might only leave him gravely injured. But if the slash landed on Mo Hua—he'd die for sure! Suffering a serious wound in exchange for a direct bloodline spot in the Qian family? Worth it.

Though the move came suddenly, Mo Hua had already sensed it through his divine sense. The trajectory of the spiritual energy along the blade had been clear as day to him. But the attack and change of direction happened in a flash—too fast to warn anyone, and with his weak physique, he couldn't dodge in time.

Just as the blade was about to strike him, a fellow forging disciple yanked Mo Hua back by the collar. The tip of the blade barely missed him, scraping down in front of him with dangerous precision—he could even feel a sting from the pressure of its spiritual force brushing past his forehead.

Da Zhu had seen the disciple draw his weapon and then redirect the attack toward Mo Hua. But his hammer was far too heavy—he couldn't switch moves fast enough. He panicked, but fortunately, Mo Hua narrowly escaped harm.

Relieved, Da Zhu's expression instantly turned to rage. No more holding back—he poured his surging blood qi into the massive iron hammer and smashed it down with full force.

The Qian disciple took a direct hit to the back and was sent crashing to the ground, coughing up blood. His ears rang with the sound of bones snapping.

He'd expected to be injured, but not this badly. As consciousness faded, he felt a foot kick him, sending him flying again. He hit the ground hard, and then everything went black.

"Despicable rat! Playing dirty!"

"Even sewer rats aren't as filthy as him!"

"Beat them up!"

The forging disciples were boiling with righteous fury. They raised their clubs and swung their hammers, charging at the Qian family disciples. The Qian disciples had no choice but to grit their teeth and fight back.

And so, in the middle of the empty street, cultivators from both sides erupted into a chaotic brawl.

(End of Chapter)