Immortality Through Array Formations (The Quest for Immortality)

Chapter 581 – Opening the Chest

Jiang Laoda's all-out sword strike missed, his spiritual power was depleted—and he knew then and there that he was doomed.

As expected, Mo Hua didn't give him the slightest chance, nor did he show any mercy. He fired off a barrage of Fireball Spells, and ended Jiang Laoda's life while he was barely clinging to breath.

With that, this group of human traffickers was completely wiped out.

The surroundings were a mess—burnt black everywhere. The straw hut had been destroyed by the sword strike, and bits of straw littered the ground.

Mo Hua nodded to himself and decided it was time to scram.

From the conversation between Jiang Laoda and the fat innkeeper, it sounded like reinforcements would be arriving within an hour.

If they bumped into him… that would be a problem.

But there was still a bit of time. Mo Hua needed to clean things up.

First, he erased part of the traces left by the formation—not completely, but enough to muddle the evidence and cover up his use of Divine Sense Ink Control and Ground Array Drawing.

After all, not every formation master could use the earth itself as a medium to lay arrays.

That kind of clue couldn't be left behind.

As for the spell traces... those didn't matter as much.

Second-grade Fireball Spell was basically the street food of the cultivation world. Anyone with a fire-type spiritual root could learn and cast it.

No one would find it suspicious.

Besides, Fireball Spell left marks all over the place.

Of the ten or so traffickers, some had been finished off with fireballs, others had been blasted nearly to pieces.

Even if Mo Hua wanted to cover it up—it'd be impossible.

He finished checking the rest—no obvious traces were left behind.

Then, Mo Hua began rifling through their storage pouches.

A horse doesn't grow fat without night grass, and a man doesn't get rich without windfalls.

Sure, rummaging through other people's belongings wasn't exactly upright behavior.

Mo Hua was a proper, law-abiding little cultivator, and normally wouldn't stoop to "killing and looting." But these were human traffickers—real scum—and the loot had practically delivered itself.

It would be more of a sin not to take it.

Besides, he had burned through a bottle of second-grade spirit ink and over a hundred spirit stones to kill these guys. He had to at least recoup the cost.

He was just a small cultivator. Earning spirit stones wasn't easy.

"I'm not doing this to get rich—just to break even!"

Mo Hua nodded resolutely and dove into the storage bags with cheerful enthusiasm.

Inside were all sorts of things: murder-grade spiritual weapons, sinister talismans, common pills, and even some that looked extremely… questionable.

Originally, Mo Hua planned to take everything without discrimination.

But he hesitated.

"These are probably mostly stolen goods. Even if they're not, they're probably still dirty…"

If he took them, could someone trace him? Track him? Hunt him?

Even if he didn't get hunted, most stolen goods were second-hand junk—not easy to sell once he reached Qianxue Prefecture.

In Tongxian City, he had Overseer Zhou and Elder Yu backing him. Even if he didn't sell anything, the Monster Hunters' Guild could absorb it all internally.

But in Qian Prefecture, a land where he knew no one?

"Chasing petty gains might get me a big loss…"

"A mature cultivator must learn to restrain his desires…"

With that thought, Mo Hua decided to leave behind all the spiritual weapons, talismans, and questionable pills. He didn't pocket a single one.

But spirit stones?

Those were clean.

The dirty part was the cultivator—not the stone.

And he'd need a lot of spirit stones for the upcoming academy enrollment and expenses.

So Mo Hua transferred the spirit stones from the traffickers' pouches into his own storage pouch… but then hesitated.

This is suspicious too…

If someone found the scene with all the loot intact except the spirit stones, wouldn't that scream "greedy little cultivator"?

"Still a bit risky…"

He couldn't take nothing, but taking everything was also bad.

Mo Hua frowned in thought… and finally, with great pain in his heart, decided to leave half the spirit stones behind.

This was the safest move.

Thankfully, the traffickers were all Foundation Establishment cultivators doing dangerous trades, so they carried a lot of stones. Even with only half, Mo Hua pocketed nearly 5,000.

Not a small sum.

Mo Hua felt a little better.

Last on the list—Jiang Laoda's storage pouch.

Mo Hua's eyes lit up.

He turned it inside out and found: three spirit swords, five bottles of pills, several manuals, and two jade slips.

The swords… he coveted them, but he knew he couldn't keep them.

Too dangerous.

The pills? He didn't need them.

The manuals? Just some body-tempering techniques and spells he couldn't use, and shouldn't carry.

A bit disappointing… and a bit suspicious.

Where was that sword technique?

The one Jiang Laoda used earlier—he didn't know what it was called, but it looked super flashy. Golden light, massive power, cut a house in half. Where was that sword technique?

Not that he planned to learn it…

Those kinds of techniques usually required a compatible cultivation method, a top-tier sword, and mountains of spiritual power to function.

Even if he had the sword art, he probably couldn't learn it—he couldn't even afford a proper sword.

But not learning didn't mean not studying.

Know your enemy. Understanding the principles of sword control could help him counter sword cultivators in the future.

Mo Hua searched again, eyes eventually landing on the two jade slips.

Both were sealed, unreadable by divine sense—obviously valuable.

"Could it be… the sword technique is inside one of these?"

"Should I take them?"

He hesitated.

Then decided: Take them. Quietly.

Unlike swords or pills, jade slips were everywhere.

They often contained private techniques and secrets. No one questioned their presence or absence.

As long as he didn't show them around, no one would know.

He tucked the two jade slips into his storage ring—the one Master gave him, invisible to outsiders and immune to divine sense detection.

Very secure.

Besides—he really, really wanted to know if that golden sword art was inside.

Decision made, Mo Hua flicked his little hand, and the jade slips vanished into the ring.

Then he tidied up the rest of the stuff, repacked it into Jiang Laoda's pouch, and returned the pouch to its rightful corpse.

For authenticity, he even hit it with a Fireball Spell—to make it look "battle-damaged."

Once everything was done, Mo Hua clapped his hands, nodded in satisfaction.

The bad guys were dead.

The spirit stones were in his pocket.

He had two mysterious jade slips.

Time to leave.

He scanned the area one last time, checking for any mistakes. Then released his divine sense, examining the scene like a third-party observer.

Yep. Those ten-plus corpses had nothing to do with him.

No trails pointed back to Mo Hua.

Only then did he breathe a sigh of relief—and even felt a bit grateful.

"Thanks to Uncle Zhang Lan…"

"It was Uncle Zhang from the Dao Court who taught me how to cover my tracks—not 'destroy corpses and erase all traces,' nope, just how to disappear properly!"

He hadn't let Uncle Zhang down!

Mo Hua nodded again.

Then he retracted his divine sense, turned to leave—only to pause.

Something didn't feel right.

What… did I forget?

He frowned deeply, going over every moment in his mind. The more he thought, the weirder it seemed. Then he suddenly remembered—those cultivators had been pushing a cart.

There were storage chests on that cart…

Where were the chests?

His eyes narrowed, divine sense swept out—and—

"Huh?"

He couldn't detect them?

"No, wait—not that I can't detect them… they've been cloaked. Their aura is being deliberately hidden. That's why divine sense can't sense them."

"…Something's up."

Mo Hua's eyes slowly lit up.

He pushed his divine sense to the limit and even used the deduction method his master had taught him, searching for spiritual power traces.

Finally, after a few moments, his divine sense twitched—he'd found where the storage chests were hidden.

They were still inside the eatery.

Jiang Laoda had stashed them in a corner, so when the Earthfire Array exploded, they hadn't been damaged. Later, when the building was sliced open by sword qi, the scattered thatch and beams covered the chests, making them nearly impossible to spot.

Mo Hua simply hadn't noticed them before.

Now, crouched in the corner of the shattered eatery, he dug the chests out—quite a bit of effort.

Jiang Laoda had carried them the whole journey and even used special means to mask their presence. Mo Hua had almost missed them entirely.

Which meant—something was definitely up.

"What's inside these boxes?"

Could this be Jiang Laoda's real treasure stash?

Mo Hua's spirits lifted.

Each box had a lock inscribed with array patterns—but to Mo Hua, they were nothing difficult.

He released his divine sense to check for hidden weapons or traps. Finding none, he carefully unraveled the array lines and opened the first chest.

He looked inside—and froze.

"Empty?"

There was absolutely nothing inside.

What the hell?

Frowning, Mo Hua raised a hand, ink lines blooming from his fingertip as he unlocked the second chest.

Still empty.

He now turned his attention to the third box—but just as he was about to dissolve the array, he paused, a puzzled look on his face.

"This… isn't a storage chest."

Although it looked identical on the outside, the structure and material were completely different.

This was a normal-looking box sealed with arrays to isolate it.

Mo Hua's eyes flickered slightly.

Storage chests—like storage bags—used profound yet broadly applied void-based principles. They could contain items many times their physical volume.

But this kind of spatial storage rejected living beings.

They couldn't hold people—or anything alive.

Suddenly, all of Jiang Laoda's strange remarks on the journey resurfaced in Mo Hua's mind:

"Don't complicate things…"

"One's for sale, two's for sale—what's the difference?"

"Might as well grab that brat while we're at it…"

At first, Mo Hua had assumed they'd already kidnapped other cultivators, and snatching him had just been a bonus.

But throughout the trip, he'd never seen any "other victims."

And all their luggage had been storage chests, which couldn't hold people.

So he hadn't suspected anything.

He had thought Jiang Laoda's crew were just delivery guys—maybe someone else had done the kidnapping, and they were responsible for guarding or transporting the victims.

He'd assumed they hadn't picked up their "goods" yet.

But now… one of the boxes wasn't a storage chest.

It was disguised. It was hidden.

Which could only mean one thing.

Mo Hua's heart skipped a beat.

He examined the box more carefully and saw that it was inscribed with not one, but multiple second-grade formations:

Defensive arrays, to protect the box from damage

Isolation arrays, to block divine sense or spiritual detection

Locking arrays, to completely seal the box shut

"Way too professional…"

Was this box specifically custom-made for smuggling cultivators?

And if so… who were they smuggling?

Mo Hua frowned and sighed.

"More trouble…"

What should he do now?

This box might contain a kidnapped, living cultivator.

The box was covered in formations. Second-grade ones.

Mo Hua could probably break them, but it would take time. And he wasn't sure how much he had…

If he didn't break them—

That victim would stay locked up.

The box was big and heavy. No way he could carry it alone.

If he left it here, in less than half an hour, the next wave of traffickers would arrive and take it away.

If all they did was ask for ransom, then fine—money lost, lesson learned.

But what if they sold the captive to demonic cultivators?

Used them as an ingredient for pills, or a test subject for twisted cultivation techniques?

Their parents would never see them again. Might never even know if their child was dead or alive. Left with nothing but pain and despair…

Mo Hua clenched his fists.

"Forget it. I'll try…"

If he could unlock the box in one… no, let's say three-quarters of an hour, he'd rescue the captive. If not—then there was nothing more he could do.

He sat down and meditated first, recovering a bit of divine sense.

Then he fully focused and began unlocking the box.

There were four formations on it.

Three of them were of the Five Elements type—ones Mo Hua was familiar with.

He usually dealt with first-grade versions, but the ones on the box were second-grade.

Still, they were all under twelve lines—manageable.

Using a combination of guesswork, deduction, and experience, Mo Hua unraveled all three within a single quarter-hour.

Yes, luck had played a role.

But hey, luck was part of a formation master's strength too.

Now only one formation remained.

He studied it—and frowned.

"This… I've never seen this type before…"

It was a locking-type array, sure. But he couldn't tell what system or tradition it belonged to.

He scratched his head.

"What do I do…"

Hard to cook rice without the grain.

He had no clue what kind of formation this was. No idea what the symbols meant. No understanding of the logic or pattern.

How was he supposed to break it?

He was anxious, but took a deep breath to calm himself. Then he started working step by step.

To break a formation, you first need to understand how to draw it…

To draw a formation, you need to have the array diagram…

The diagram… deduction…

Mo Hua's eyes suddenly lit up.

By following the spiritual traces of a formation and deducing its structure, one could reconstruct the formation diagram—that was the divine sense-based deduction technique his master had taught him.

The very foundation of Heavenly Pattern Deduction.

And right now—he could sense the spiritual traces of this lock-type array.

Which meant next— He could deduce its array diagram.

Learning the formation while breaking it on the spot?

Mo Hua paused.

"Is that even possible…"

He glanced again at the box before him, imagining the small, kidnapped cultivator locked inside—his parents likely worried sick, pacing and despairing…

Mo Hua sighed, a bit helpless.

"Let's give it a try."

He sat cross-legged, held his breath, and began using the method of Heavenly Pattern Deduction, attempting to reconstruct the formation's structure from the traces of spiritual energy.

At first, it was awkward.

The formation patterns he deduced were all unfamiliar.

Mo Hua forced himself to ignore their outer shapes and focus instead on the inner rhythm of spiritual flow. Gradually, these patterns no longer seemed like random lines, but rather the trails left behind by the Dao in motion.

It was true for Five Element arrays,

for Sealing arrays,

—and perhaps for all formation types.

Mo Hua had a minor epiphany, but his divine sense continued without pause, calculating faster and faster, the array patterns slowly manifesting in his sea of consciousness.

But still—not fast enough.

I need more speed…

Mo Hua frowned, then suddenly had a flash of inspiration.

What if I combine "Heavenly Trick Calculation" with "Heavenly Pattern Deduction"? Split my divine sense, calculate in parallel—wouldn't that speed things up?

He considered it for a moment. But with time ticking, he had no luxury to hesitate.

Use Martial Uncle's "Heavenly Trick" to empower Master's "Heavenly Deduction"!

Mo Hua's pupils dimmed. His divine sense split into phantom shadows, donning an illusory Dao robe. Empowered by the Path of Deception, he performed deduction upon the mysterious locking formation.

But the moment he began—his consciousness seared with pain.

It felt like the two techniques were clashing—like jagged saws, grinding and pulling apart his divine sense, cutting and tearing it piece by piece.

Thankfully, Mo Hua's divine sense had long since undergone qualitative change—refined like mercury. Though fragmented, it held its shape and didn't collapse.

The pain was intense. But bearable.

And the calculation speed? Skyrocketed.

Mo Hua was thrilled—and as the patterns emerged quicker and quicker, the joy dulled the pain in his mind.

After a cup of tea's time, he had fully deduced the unknown array's structure.

But he'd also nearly exhausted his divine sense.

His sea of consciousness still ached.

Heavenly Trick Calculation is powerful… but also draining…

No time to rest now.

Mo Hua ended the Heavenly Trick state. The shadowy illusion faded, the illusory Dao robe on his divine form slowly dissipating.

But just as it vanished, faint cracks formed across its fading outline—like torn Dao principles.

Yet Mo Hua didn't notice. He was too focused on the formation before him.

It was a second-grade, thirteen-pattern, unknown-type formation.

Like a brand-new door into the world of formations.

"The Dao of Formations truly is vast…"

Mo Hua sighed, but soon cleared his thoughts.

It was time to break the formation.

Technically, he couldn't truly break it.

Even knowing the array's structure didn't mean he could instantly learn or master it.

So, he did what he always did—he guessed.

He had plenty of experience doing this. And from experience, he knew:

Not all formations need deep knowledge to break.

Sometimes, you can "guess" your way through.

—If you guess well.

You had to guess using logic.

No blind fumbling allowed.

Mo Hua deconstructed the full array, breaking it into segments, classifying them based on spiritual interactions, and deducing which parts countered one another.

He sketched on the ground, testing and experimenting.

Some guesses hit. Some missed.

The successful ones he kept; the failed ones he reworked.

After a few trials, he'd identified several groups of counteracting patterns.

Some lines didn't seem to have any counter patterns—probably because their pairings weren't part of this formation set.

But this was enough.

Mo Hua glanced at the time—just over a quarter hour left.

No time to be thorough.

He started with those countering patterns—and dismantled them.

The lock array dimmed—but didn't collapse.

Mo Hua then inspected the array's core, adjusted it slightly using intuition, reversed a few spiritual flows at the formation's eyes, then returned to adjust the patterns again.

Tinker, tinker, tweak, tweak—

Using nothing but his absurd formation intuition, Mo Hua somehow, kind of, slightly screwed up the lock formation.

But in a good way.

The formation dimmed completely.

The box was no longer locked.

He opened it immediately.

Inside was, sure enough, a small figure.

Much smaller than Mo Hua.

A little boy, about four or five years old. Pale and delicate, features handsome, dressed in a low-key but clearly expensive brocade robe.

He seemed to have been startled either by the sound of the box being opened—or the earlier battle.

Big round eyes wide, he stared at Mo Hua, clearly scared.

(…and the chapter ends here with a "thank you for the tip" note from the author and an ad for the Migu app.)

(End of this Chapter)