Chapter 1003: Taking Action

Linghu Xiao’s expression was cold and indifferent.

Ouyang Xuan wore a mocking smile.

Mo Hua, Cheng Mo, and Situ Jian all had subtly strange expressions.

The youth said nothing more—after throwing out his harsh words, he glanced provocatively at Linghu Xiao, then lifted his chin and left.

After he left, the arena was silent for a moment.

Mo Hua gradually realized something and frowned:

“He told us to remember his name, but… did he ever actually say what his name was?”

Situ Jian pondered.

“Could it be that he thinks we all ought to already know who he is?”

Cheng Mo asked curiously:

“So who is he?”

Mo Hua took out the Great Void Token, found their opposing team in the match list, and swept his gaze over the five names on the other side. His thoughts moved, and after a brief deduction, he found the answer:

“Wu Ming.”

“His name means ‘nameless’?”

“My name is ‘Wu Ming’—Wu as in the ‘Wu’ with a mouth radical and heaven inside, Ming as in the ‘Ming’ made of sun and moon.”

“Ah… so he’s from the Wu family,” Cheng Mo said.

“The Wu family?” Mo Hua asked.

“A great family of talisman makers—earns a lot of spirit stones, extremely wealthy,” Situ Jian said concisely.

“Their main branch is in Kun Prefecture, but they have many scattered clans across the Nine Provinces.”

“Very wealthy?”

“Mm, very wealthy.” Situ Jian nodded. “Qian Prefecture has a long inheritance and attracts talent from all over, hence it’s full of outstanding people and noble families.

“Kun Prefecture, on the other hand, has fertile land and abundant resources, making it the richest in the Nine Provinces. Because of this, many fabulously wealthy clans and aristocrats have emerged there.”

“The Wu family is one such aristocratic clan from Kun Prefecture. Because they are rich, they can afford to run the famously ‘money-burning’ talisman-making industry. And since talismans are expensive and the trade is hugely profitable, the Wu family’s wealth snowballed and grew ever larger…”

Situ Jian explained this to Mo Hua.

He was steady, meticulous, quick-witted, and eager to learn—well-informed about the various great families. Much of Mo Hua’s knowledge about aristocratic clans had come from him.

But Mo Hua had a question:

“Why are talismans such a ‘high-profit’ business?” He rarely saw cultivators use talismans when dueling—they were only a supplementary method for emergencies or escape. Up to now, he hadn’t seen anyone rely on talismans as their main combat technique.

Situ Jian replied:

“There are many reasons—high production cost, regulation by the Dao Court, single-use nature, and so on. Most cultivators don’t use talismans excessively.

“The more skilled a cultivator is, the better their inherited techniques, the less they need to rely on talismans.

“The greatest use of talismans is in cultivation wars and medium-to-large-scale battles between cultivators, for temporary fire suppression or precision strikes.

“Cultivation war is essentially burning spirit stones.

“If you don’t burn spirit stones, you burn lives.

“In war, the best way to burn spirit stones is with formations.

“But formations are large, complex, depend on formation masters, are troublesome to set up, difficult to maintain, require prior preparation, and have many limitations in battle—making them less effective.

“Other than formations, there are talismans—simple, direct, convenient, brutal. Break the seal and you can use them, and their destructive power isn’t bad. Large sects or the Dao Court will often bulk-purchase talismans at discounted prices for large-scale battles as ‘military supplies.’

“But producing talismans requires massive financial support. Only the extremely wealthy clans of Kun Prefecture, with talented disciples, strong spiritual roots, abundant family wealth, and rich local resources, can carry out large-scale talisman production…”

Mo Hua nodded, more or less understanding.

Talismans were “weapons.”

The great families of Kun Prefecture were “land barons.”

Land barons selling weapons generated huge profits, turning them into “aristocrats.”

Mo Hua lowered his head and glanced at the match list. Their current opponent was Ling Fu Men, one of the “Twelve Streams.”

“Ling Fu Men…” Mo Hua murmured.

“Ling Fu Men is a sect specializing in the art of talisman crafting,” Situ Jian said. “Some great families in Kun Prefecture don’t expect their disciples to learn the traditions of the Four Sects and Eight Schools; instead, they want them to systematically study rare talisman-making arts.

“So, while Ling Fu Men is one of the Twelve Streams, and excels in talisman-making, the sect also has some disciples with very good talent.

“More importantly, Ling Fu Men is also very rich.”

Mo Hua was curious:

“How rich?”

Situ Jian replied:

“It’s said they’re richer than most of the Eight Great Sects.”

Mo Hua didn’t understand:

“Do they have talisman businesses? Do they sell talismans themselves?”

Situ Jian nodded:

“Probably…”

But he didn’t actually know the details.

At this moment, Ouyang Xuan—who had been keeping a stony face but secretly listening—spoke coldly:

“Because they’re funded by the great families of Kun Prefecture.”

Mo Hua was surprised:

“Funded by the great families of Kun Prefecture?”

Seeing that even the “deeply hidden” Mo Hua didn’t know this, Ouyang Xuan smirked inwardly, but kept his face calm as he said:

“Some Kun Prefecture aristocrats, like the Wu family, pour huge amounts of spirit stones and abundant resources into supporting Ling Fu Men’s research into talisman-making.

“The talisman-making techniques developed by Ling Fu Men are then fed back to these aristocratic clans.

“At the same time, Ling Fu Men reserves certain ‘special admission’ slots for these clans, maintaining their relationship through both lineage and shared profit.

“The amount of spirit stones involved is massive—comparable to the spirit mine shares of Qianlong Mountain for the Twelve Streams.

“That’s why Ling Fu Men, though a Twelve Streams sect, is richer than most of the Eight Great Sects.

“Other sects mostly follow a pure inheritance model, with only occasional small industries.

“But Ling Fu Men follows a fusion model of sect and aristocratic clan—sharing cultivation techniques, deeply binding interests…”

For someone usually silent, Ouyang Xuan had said quite a lot.

Mo Hua couldn’t help but fall into thought.

A sect fused with aristocratic clans…

On the surface, it was mutually beneficial.

But in essence, wasn’t this just a dual monopoly of cultivation heritage and cultivation resources?

In the end, the sect and the aristocrats would join hands, grow ever larger, and complete the ultimate monopoly.

And who, in the end, would suffer for it?

Mo Hua thought for a while, then suddenly looked at Ouyang Xuan:

“How do you know all this?”

Ouyang Xuan snorted coldly, expression disdainful, but still answered honestly:

“I overheard when my Old Ancestor was talking to the Sect Master.”

“Oh…” Mo Hua nodded.

If Ouyang Xuan could eavesdrop when the Old Ancestor and the Sect Master were talking, then his status was probably even higher than Mo Hua had previously guessed.

“For the Sword Debate, there are restrictions on talismans, right?” Mo Hua asked Situ Jian.

Situ Jian nodded:

“Since it’s a Sword Debate, talismans and formations, if used in large numbers, would seriously upset the balance.

“Especially with some ‘rich young masters’—with deep pockets, throwing talismans like they cost nothing—no one could withstand that.

“But only grade and quantity are limited, not type,” Situ Jian continued. “Ling Fu Men will probably make some rare high-grade talismans specifically for the Sword Debate.”

“Mm.” Mo Hua nodded slowly. “It’s fine. Let’s just fight and see first.”

“Little Senior Brother…” Situ Jian hesitated. “Should we… still use the same strategy as before?”

That most basic tactic was too crude.

They’d used it for many matches now, and others had surely figured out ways to counter it.

If they kept using it, they might not win.

Mo Hua smiled:

“It’s fine. We’ll use it once more.” He glanced meaningfully at Situ Jian, Cheng Mo, Linghu Xiao, and Ouyang Xuan:

“This is ‘weighted training’ for you all—using the matches to practice and build coordination.

“After all, if I took action, the battle wouldn’t look anything like it does now…”

Cheng Mo, Situ Jian, and Linghu Xiao froze, then their eyes lit up and they nodded:

“Yes, Little Senior Brother.”

Ouyang Xuan said nothing, but in his eyes flashed a deep dread—perhaps even… fear.

In the Sword Debate arena, mountains and rivers twisted together.

Mo Hua and his team entered.

Outside the arena, the shadow of Fang Tian’s brush flickered, revealing the figures of Mo Hua’s group—drawing waves of discussion.

Most of it wasn’t good.

It was mostly criticisms like: “The Great Void Sect is finished,” “The Old Ancestor is senile, the Sect Master incompetent, the elders sycophantic,” “The disciples dare not speak out.”

And then there were sympathy comments: “Poor Linghu Xiao,” “Poor Ouyang Xuan,” “Poor big guy,” “Poor sword-carrying lad.”

And of course, condemnation: “Why is that shameless Mo Hua still here?” “I want to see how much longer he can coast,” “The disgrace of the Great Void Sect,” “Useless waste.”

Same old comments as before.

As the tide of criticism roared outside, the battle inside began.

It was another five-person melee.

The match format hadn’t changed, and Mo Hua couldn’t be bothered to alter tactics—still using the most basic combat approach, letting Linghu Xiao and the others fight with their own skills to build instinctive teamwork.

The arena wasn’t large, and Mo Hua’s divine sense was so strong that he could instantly detect the other side’s position.

But he didn’t speak up—because it wasn’t yet time for him to employ any “underhanded tricks.”

Both sides met normally.

Mo Hua’s five—big guy Cheng Mo stood at the front, the others fanning out in the simplest formation.

Opposite them, Ling Fu Men’s frontman was a striking youth.

The same confident and arrogant youth who had earlier thrown harsh words at Linghu Xiao.

Wu Ming, of the Wu family of Kun Prefecture.

Wu Ming wore ornate armor, with arms wrapped in crimson, brilliantly gleaming bracers—luxurious and imposing, clearly expensive.

The armor was custom-made.

The bracers were the embryonic form of his personal life-bound spiritual weapon, forged at great cost.

The other four from Ling Fu Men also wore fine armor, each piece shining with the glint of “money is no object.”

Though Ling Fu Men was only a Twelve Streams sect, anyone who could enter was either rich or noble.

These five were all top-tier legitimate sons of great houses.

One glance and Mo Hua knew their gear had been custom-made for the Sword Debate.

Its quality surpassed the custom weapons of Gushan Forging House by two or three grades.

But the price—probably more than ten times higher.

And it was still “consumable.”

Only the aristocratic heirs of Kun Prefecture would spend spirit stones so extravagantly. Mo Hua couldn’t help but marvel inwardly.

Normally, once the sides met, the fight would begin immediately—no nonsense.

But this time was different. Before the battle began, Wu Ming seemed to have something to say.

Ling Fu Men didn’t strike first.

Mo Hua also held his group back—curious to hear him out.

Wu Ming extended his dazzling, flame-lit bracer, pointed at Linghu Xiao, and sneered:

“Linghu Xiao, today you will fall by my hand!

“I will prove to Miss Lu that you, this so-called sword genius, are nothing but a coward—a loser—not worth even a glance from her…”

The first half was fine, full of momentum.

The second half… was a bit odd.

Mo Hua couldn’t help glancing at Linghu Xiao:

“Who is Miss Lu?”

He had thought this was a battle of prodigies, but apparently there was some gossip involved.

Linghu Xiao looked bewildered—clearly having no idea what nonsense Wu Ming was spouting.

His attitude completely angered Wu Ming. Wu Ming suppressed his fury and said coldly:

“Still pretending to be clueless here? You really are a coward.”

“Today, I’ll let everyone see that this so-called sword genius of yours… is nothing more than an overrated piece of trash!”

“I’ll use my family’s Liuli Bright Flame Fist to personally smash you to death!”

What he said was certainly full of momentum.

But Mo Hua didn’t hear a word of it — instead, his gossipy heart flared to life, eyes sparkling as he whispered to Linghu Xiao:

“You and this ‘Miss Lu’… have something going on?”

Cheng Mo and the others all turned to look at Linghu Xiao, eyes sharp and expectant.

Even Ouyang Xuan looked curious.

Linghu Xiao’s face darkened.

If anyone else had asked this, he would’ve cut them down with a sword already.

But since it was Mo Hua, he could only keep a straight face and reply unhappily, “No… I don’t even know who this Miss Lu is.”

Mo Hua nodded, suddenly losing interest.

No gossip to eat…

While they whispered among themselves, acting as if no one else existed, Wu Ming grew even angrier.

“Kill!”

Wu Ming gave a cold snort, then channeled his spiritual power, activating his arm bracers and unleashing the Liuli Bright Flame Fist. Charging forward at the head, he carved a raging streak of fire straight toward Mo Hua’s group.

Cheng Mo swung up his giant axe, meeting the blow head-on.

Linghu Xiao and the others also drew their swords one after another.

Only Mo Hua tapped his foot lightly, his figure moving with ease as he slipped out of the crowd, leaving the battlefield entirely to stand off to the side and watch.

Before Fang Tianhua’s painted shadow, this “retreating in battle — teammates forward, me backward” maneuver was seen clearly by everyone.

Immediately, curses rose again:

“Again?”

“Still not making a move?”

“Just watching?”

“The thickness of his skin is truly awe-inspiring.”

Some people even spoke in consolation:

“Don’t make things hard for him. He can’t do anything — if he acts, he’ll be exposed instantly…”

“Did you see his Dao Debate jade? Its defense is unbelievably poor. He probably couldn’t take even one strike — as soon as he steps up, he’ll get ‘slaughtered’.”

“After watching this long, you still expect him to act? All I can say is, some people’s brains aren’t fit for anything but feeding to demons…”

??

Outside the arena, the discussion was lively.

Inside, the Lingfu Sect also didn’t take Mo Hua seriously.

Just like before, Mo Hua stood off to the side “watching the show,” and they didn’t even need to bother with him.

As long as they took down his four teammates, removing Mo Hua would be effortless.

Wu Ming led the charge, and the five Lingfu Sect disciples began encircling Linghu Xiao’s group of four.

Wu Ming might seem like a “lust-addled, victory-seeking” disciple, but their tactics were carefully planned, and they treated Linghu Xiao with the utmost respect.

They didn’t dare let Linghu Xiao go all out.

So, right from the start, two body cultivators — one wielding a low-ground blade, the other wielding refined iron claws — stuck to Linghu Xiao in close quarters.

Linghu Xiao had no way to unleash his most devastating sword techniques.

If he tried to force it, the two body cultivators would interrupt him.

If he used his one and only Gold Body Talisman to prevent interruption, the opponents would simply retreat until the gold body’s effect wore off, then return to wear him down again. This was a common tactic in the sword debate for countering “prideful prodigies” who stood out too much.

The method only worked if the prodigy was a spellcaster needing charge-up time, or a long-range sword cultivator.

Teammates couldn’t help much either.

And now, with Lingfu Sect’s numerical advantage, the tactic fit perfectly.

Other sects had used similar tactics against Linghu Xiao before.

But the Lingfu Sect’s disciples were stronger, with better spiritual tools, so the effect was even more pronounced.

What’s more, Linghu Xiao’s team had gotten this far almost entirely through raw power — four against five. Their tactics were skilled but basic, and with so many sects watching, their style had already been thoroughly studied.

Once you’ve been figured out, you’ll be targeted at every turn.

Not to mention, they were short a person.

Linghu Xiao was continuously worn down by the two body cultivators.

Cheng Mo’s physical strength was plenty, but his killing power still fell short of a true top prodigy. He could only stalemate with his opponent.

Situ Jian was a jack-of-all-trades, but without tactical support, his abilities weren’t exceptional in this sea of geniuses. Though he held the advantage, he couldn’t secure a win quickly.

Ouyang Xuan was locked in combat with Wu Ming.

Wu Ming’s strength was average, but his spiritual gear was exceptional.

Ouyang Xuan also had the upper hand, but couldn’t finish the fight anytime soon.

Meanwhile, the Lingfu Sect rotated their offense, using teamwork to maintain pressure.

The Tai Xu Sect, on the other hand, couldn’t rotate — with fewer people, they could only fight reactively, unable to shift to the offensive.

And in this situation, Linghu Xiao’s spiritual power was being quickly drained.

Linghu Xiao’s attack power was top-tier, but the higher the attack power, the greater the energy cost. In a two-on-one, he couldn’t last long.

When his spiritual power was nearly spent…

Wu Ming saw his chance and his eyes lit up. “I’ll take him!”

He abandoned Ouyang Xuan and turned on Linghu Xiao, while the two who had been wearing Linghu Xiao down went to occupy Ouyang Xuan instead.

Cheng Mo and the others immediately understood what Wu Ming was doing.

He’d been shouting about wanting to defeat Linghu Xiao himself.

But the real plan was to let his teammates sap most of Linghu Xiao’s spiritual power, then swoop in for a “duel” to defeat Tai Xu Sect’s sword genius.

Call it shameless, and it surely was.

But this was the sword debate — if he actually won, no one could say much.

Even if he stood on his teammates’ shoulders to cut down Tai Xu Sect’s prodigy, it would still be called a “win.”

And that wasn’t all.

Wu Ming pulled out a dark-silver flowing light talisman, crushed it, and a layer of refined iron light quickly spread over his body, forming an “iron coat.”

A superior-grade Iron Coat Talisman.

It was a rare talisman — once activated, spiritual power condensed into armor that could block sword qi slashes.

Each sword debate disciple could only choose one talisman. Linghu Xiao had chosen the Gold Body Talisman, but Wu Ming had chosen the Lingfu Sect’s specially-made Iron Coat Talisman.

Its purpose was to counter Linghu Xiao.

With the Iron Coat’s protection, for the next fifteen minutes, he could drastically reduce damage from sword qi.

Wu Ming intended to use those fifteen minutes to settle the match.

His spiritual power surged to the limit, his techniques pushed to the extreme.

The Liuli Bright Flame Fist — every punch carried roaring flames, raining down like a storm toward Linghu Xiao.

Most of the blazing punches were blocked by sword light.

But some still struck Linghu Xiao, seeping bit by bit into his Dao Debate jade.

Linghu Xiao gritted his teeth and endured.

Wu Ming only hit harder, his momentum soaring like a rainbow.

At that moment, most of the cultivators watching felt their hearts sink.

Linghu Xiao was going to lose!

They didn’t like Tai Xu Sect — saying the sect was doomed was mostly because of a certain undeserving formation “chief.”

But Linghu Xiao, who quietly bore the burden and dragged his team forward with his own strength, was someone most cultivators still respected.

Now, watching him being pressed down, they felt a deep frustration.

The thought of Linghu Xiao’s defeat made them groan inwardly once again.

“Heaven envies the talented!”

“Born in the wrong era!”

‘Such a promising seedling—why did fate curse him, letting him end up in Great Void Sect…’

Inside the arena, Wu Ming’s expression grew ever more smug.

Being able to suppress Linghu Xiao, a prodigy of swordsmanship, was enough to make him puff up with pride.

With the Iron Armor Talisman’s protection, if he kept this up, Linghu Xiao was certain to lose.

If Linghu Xiao tried to use his Golden Body Talisman and unleash a top-tier sword technique for a decisive clash, Wu Ming still wouldn’t be afraid.

Never mind that Linghu Xiao’s spiritual power was already greatly depleted—whether he could even unleash such a technique was questionable. Even if he could, the time needed to gather power and condense energy would be enough for Wu Ming to smash him to death.

At worst, they’d both perish together.

But with the Iron Armor Talisman guarding him for a full quarter-hour, even taking one of Linghu Xiao’s full-powered sword strikes head-on might not kill him.

‘I can kill him!’

At that thought, Wu Ming’s excitement surged, his attacks becoming even fiercer, wanting to completely defeat Linghu Xiao and make him die in humiliation…

At this moment, Mo Hua, standing at the edge of the arena, let out a faint sigh.

He knew—that was as far as this basic tactic could go. From here on, it was time to play a different way.

Slowly, Mo Hua raised his arm. His fair hand finally emerged from his sleeve, two fingers extended.

Many sharp-eyed cultivators outside the arena immediately caught this scene from the massive projection above the arena.

They saw that the Mo Hua who had been watching the battle from the sidelines, hands tucked in his sleeves, finally stretched one hand out.

For no reason at all, everyone’s hearts gave a sudden jolt.

‘That Great Void Sect formation chief… is finally going to make a move?’

‘His first move in the entire Sword Debate Conference?’

‘With things at this stage, what does he want to do? What can he do?’

Somehow, a tension began to creep into their chests.

Inside the arena, Wu Ming—still in the heat of his killing frenzy—also sensed something off the moment Mo Hua raised his hand.

He had “ignored” Mo Hua, but that didn’t mean he had actually forgotten about him.

After all, the Sword Debate was a five-on-five battle.

It’s just that this “formation chief” from Great Void Sect had, up until now, done nothing at all during the tournament—like a total ‘good-for-nothing’.

So everyone acted as though he didn’t exist.

But now… he’d raised his hand.

‘What’s he trying to do?’

A faint thread of unease crept into Wu Ming’s mind.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a flicker of flame—a basic spell taking shape—and he immediately laughed in contempt.

‘Fireball Technique?’

‘A mere Fireball Technique?’

‘From so far away, he’s going to try using a fireball…’

And then—

In the very next instant—Wu Ming’s mind exploded with a deafening boom, as if a blazing cannonball, moving at a speed so utterly inconceivable he couldn’t even perceive it, smashed directly into his head…

(End of this Chapter)