Chapter 1208: Deriving Formations

Chapter 1207: Deriving Formations

Mo Hua drew formations himself, constructing cycles of generation and restraint, and comprehending the Laws on his own.

Bit by bit, he experimented, explored, and constantly tested the boundaries.

Whenever his mind went blank, showing signs of being “assimilated” by the Dao, Mo Hua immediately noticed and stopped at once.

If the Heavenly Dao was a judge, it acted by the regulations of the Great Dao.

Then Mo Hua, right now, was like a little delinquent “breaking laws,” a repeat offender forever testing the Heavenly Dao’s edges, wandering in the gray zone of taboo.

Acts “against the law” were naturally more lucrative, but easily punished.

Acts “within the law” might yield slower benefits, but they were safe, stable, with no future worries.

He still had to be a “law-abiding cultivator.”

Of course, even if he didn’t want to, he had no choice—Heavenly Dao never spoiled him.

Because of his fear of being “targeted,” Mo Hua’s comprehension of the Laws slowed down.

But even so, his speed of comprehension was already absurdly fast.

The most terrifying part of this “self-controlled” enlightenment was the “control.”

He could create his own conditions for “epiphany,” comprehend the Laws according to his design, even manufacture “contradictory cycles of restraint” to deduce further Laws.

Such “heaven-defying” behavior, in a sense, already transcended the scope of being “human.”

This was simply not something ordinary people could do.

All the more so when Mo Hua was only at Foundation Establishment.

The will of Heaven not crushing him outright for such defiance was already an act of mercy.

From then on, Mo Hua continued, within the “tolerance” of Heaven’s limits, to structure formations, reconstruct Laws, derive cycles of generation and restraint, and pursue enlightenment.

He could not be overly “immersed” in it. Mo Hua was not too happy about this, but there was no choice—cultivation still required a balance of effort and rest, a steady, flowing stream.

…

Day after day passed, and half a month later.

Mo Hua’s formation skills had once again greatly advanced.

Especially in mastery of the Profound-Earth Absolute Formation, various Five-Element Earth-type arrays, and the Bagua Gen Mountain-type formations—his control had leapt to a new level. Using these formations as mediums, he “constructed” earth-related Laws, and after countless repetitions, his insight deepened immensely. The construction of Laws in turn nourished his understanding of formations.

From formation to Law, and from Law back to formation—

The two began to dissolve some of their boundaries, tending toward unity.

This was truly bringing formations to the level of “Laws.”

And this was only with “earth-type” formations.

Mo Hua felt that if he were to apply this method—deconstructing formations, reconstructing Laws, and using Laws to feed back into formation comprehension—to all formations, then one day he might truly achieve the unification of the “ten thousand formations” and the “ten thousand Laws.”

To become an unimaginably terrifying formation master.

The formations he painted would themselves be “Laws.”

His Laws could, at will, derive into formations…

“Formations are Laws, Laws derive into formations…”

At this thought, Mo Hua’s heart trembled.

Suddenly, he realized—this seemed not unfamiliar.

He had seen this scene before.

More than ten years ago, when he was still a child, his Martial Uncle had taken him to the Ten Thousand Demon Gathering, sealing the entire Demon Hall with the “Trickster Dao Heaven-Sealing Formation,” slaughtering all Golden Cores and even Nascent Soul demonic cultivators within.

At that time, when Martial Uncle cast the formation, those Trickster Dao runes seemed alive, self-deriving in the void…

“The Trickster Dao Heaven-Sealing Formation…”

Mo Hua drew in a sharp breath.

Back then, he was too young, too weak, with too little experience to understand.

He couldn’t grasp why Martial Uncle’s formation seemed to possess life, capable of “self-propagation.”

But at this moment, recalling it again, a sudden realization struck—could that have been…

Enlightening one’s own Dao, mastering one’s own Laws, and then, according to those Laws, deriving new formation patterns?

Martial Uncle cultivated the Trickster Dao.

What he mastered were Trickster Dao Laws.

By harnessing those Laws, the Trickster Dao Heaven-Sealing Formation derived itself.

Mo Hua’s heart shook, his back went cold.

He felt that he was getting closer to Martial Uncle, understanding him a little more.

But the more he understood, the more terrifyingly powerful Martial Uncle became.

What Mo Hua painstakingly grasped in shallow fragments, Martial Uncle had likely long since mastered to perfection, fused thoroughly, refined to the ultimate realm. For a moment, Mo Hua was deeply disheartened.

When would he ever catch up to his Martial Uncle…?

Then he sharply realized—he was being too greedy, too arrogant.

What sort of figure was Martial Uncle?

How many years had Martial Uncle cultivated, and how long had he?

What realm was Martial Uncle, and what realm was he?

To think of comparing himself now to Martial Uncle—wasn’t that far too presumptuous?

It was only normal to fall short.

Thinking this way, Mo Hua felt a bit better.

At the same time, he couldn’t help but think—if Martial Uncle’s methods were truly as he guessed, deriving “formations” from “Laws,” then it meant his own path might indeed be correct.

In this world, aside from his master, there were probably few formation masters who could rival his Martial Uncle, a man worthy of the title “Daoist.”

Martial Uncle’s path was surely the path of the strong.

Even if he did not tread it, it was worth studying.

Mo Hua gradually let out a breath of relief.

The confusion he had felt toward Dao, toward Laws, toward formations, gradually steadied.

A road walked alone was bound to be lonely and uncertain.

But if Martial Uncle had already walked ahead of him, then it became much more reliable.

Even though he and Martial Uncle walked different Daos, destined to part ways at some fork ahead…

Thinking of this, Mo Hua felt a strange heaviness in his chest.

At once, he “snuffed out” all thoughts relating to Martial Uncle, lest thinking too much truly attracted his attention.

Compared to the title of “Daoist,” the karma tied to “Martial Uncle” was far lighter.

Mo Hua even suspected that for certain reasons, Martial Uncle’s true self might not even know of his little “Martial Nephew.” But Martial Uncle was still Martial Uncle, and caution was necessary.

So long as he confirmed that his understanding of Dao, Laws, and formations was viable, that there was a road ahead, and a direction to follow—that was enough.

“Forget Martial Uncle. Forget Martial Uncle…”

Mo Hua reined in his thoughts, calmed his heart, and once more delved into formations, and into the study of Taotie’s power.

And as his comprehension of formations deepened, so too did his grasp of Laws.

Naturally, his study of Taotie’s power also grew more profound.

Mo Hua gradually felt that he had begun to grasp some essential Law within “Famine.”

But immediately, he was confronted by a complex problem.

This was a problem at the level of “Laws”:

The Taotie power causing famine in the Great Wilderness might be completely different from the Taotie Absolute Formation of twenty-three runes he had obtained from the Shugu Tribe.

And the twenty-three-rune Taotie Formation of the Shugu Tribe might also differ from the Twelve-Meridian Taotie Spiritual-Skeleton Formation.

This meant that the Laws he had encountered so far related to “Taotie” could not be unified.

The three corresponding formations—the Famine Taotie Formation, the Shugu Taotie Formation, and the Spiritual-Skeleton Taotie Formation—might also be mutually disconnected.

This left Mo Hua utterly puzzled.

The Famine-associated Taotie might involve Laws of hunger and death.

Then what did the Shugu Tribe’s Taotie signify?

And the Taotie Spiritual-Skeleton Formation—what Law did it contain?

Why was it that the same “Taotie” held such enormous disparity?

What mystery was hidden within this?

How should one truly understand the origin of “Taotie”?

What was the essential Law of “Taotie”?

Mo Hua furrowed his brow tightly—the deeper he studied, the more confounding it became, until he felt he had once more walked into a dead end.

The Laws of “Taotie” were ferocious, profound, tangled beyond measure.

Right now, it was almost impossible to trace a “thread” to carefully unravel, to probe into the core of Taotie.

Mo Hua could only endure patiently, again and again painting the Profound-Earth Reconstructed Absolute Formation, seeking comprehension of Taotie’s famine power.

But this path of insight soon hit a “bottleneck.”

Because famine qi had no “formation” form of manifestation.

Or rather, Mo Hua did not yet know what kind of formation the “Famine Taotie Formation” actually was, nor the form it took when constructed.

To know a “formation” without knowing the “Law” meant only learning the form, never the essence, yet at least one could copy it. Mo Hua’s situation was the reverse.

He had grasped parts of the “Law” of famine beforehand, but had not yet seen the famine formation that served as its vessel.

Thus the “Law” had no carrier, no medium, unable to merge with “formation.”

Empty comprehension of Laws, without the ability to apply them, was useless.

This too was a thorny problem.

“The formation patterns that cause famine… where can I find them?”

“In the very depths of famine’s spread?”

Mo Hua pondered for a while, considering whether to refine some Profound-Earth spirit tools or Vitality Robes that could suppress the famine.

Wearing these robes, carrying such artifacts, he could resist the power of the Taotie and venture deep into the heart of the famine.

There, in the core of the famine, he might find traces of formations.

If he could locate the runes that generated the Famine Calamity, perhaps then the “Law” and the “Formation” could merge into one, and he could first learn this kind of “Famine-Taotie Formation.”

That way, he would already possess a form of the Taotie’s power, equivalent to having the ability to “create famine.”

Of course, this was only Mo Hua’s “conjecture,” a deduction based on his own experience and knowledge.

Whether he could truly enter the heart of the famine…

Whether he could find the Taotie Famine Runes…

Whether such “Famine Runes” even existed at all—these were all unknowns.

Mo Hua hesitated.

The land of famine very likely held opportunities of formations.

But at the same time, the dangers were immense.

A single misstep, and if the Taotie’s power corroded him, he might fall into an extreme state of “hunger and thirst,” unable to preserve his life.

The danger was certain, while the opportunity might not exist at all.

That made the choice difficult.

Just as Mo Hua was caught in hesitation, another turn of events occurred.

That day, as Mo Hua was staring at the withered earth, studying the spread of the famine, Ba-Chuan came to find him and said:

“Lord Shaman, something’s happened.”

Mo Hua was slightly startled. “What happened?”

Ba-Chuan’s expression was grave. “The Wusha Mountain Realm has been breached.”

Mo Hua’s eyes flickered in surprise. “The Bifang Tribe?”

But Ba-Chuan shook his head. “The main Shugu Tribe.”

Mo Hua frowned. “The Shugu Tribe?”

“Yes,” Ba-Chuan replied. “The Shugu Tribe—whether to escape the famine or for some other reason—suddenly began invading second-rank small mountain realms. Their forces are strong. Wusha Mountain Realm was breached a few days ago.”

“Young Lord Dan-Zhu is leading troops to resist, but the battle’s outcome is uncertain…”

Mo Hua had been engaged in a profound and important study—something Ba-Chuan could not understand, though he knew well enough.

For ordinary matters, he would never dare disturb Mo Hua.

But now, with powerful enemies invading, and Young Lord Dan-Zhu personally on the front lines, the matter was of utmost importance.

He could only brace himself and interrupt Mo Hua’s research.

Mo Hua pondered briefly, then nodded. “Alright, I understand. We’ll return now.”

Whether to venture into the core of the famine could be considered later.

The urgent task was to deal with the Shugu Tribe’s invasion.

After all, Wutu and Wusha Mountain Realms were Mo Hua’s “strongholds,” the foundation for further growth. They could not be lost. The threat of the Shugu Tribe’s main force was not to be underestimated.

Mo Hua cast one last glance at the withering earth and at the scattered Profound-Earth Reconstructed Formations he had drawn to resist the famine, feeling that strange interweaving of life and death. His eyes deepened, then he departed.

Mo Hua’s area of famine research lay northwest of the Wusha Mountain Realm.

The Shugu Tribe’s invasion came from the west.

When Mo Hua reached the Wusha front line after a day and night’s travel, he saw both sides already clashing fiercely among the steep ridges. Dan-Zhu and Chi-Feng, leading the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe, along with warriors from Wusha, Black-Horn, and Wutu, were locked in battle against Shugu tribesmen painted with bizarre war patterns.

The Shugu Tribe had bypassed the famine zones, launching their assault on the Wusha Mountain Realm through the rugged mountains.

Fortunately, their intent was quickly discovered.

When Dan-Zhu learned of it, he led a counterattack and successfully held them back about thirty li from Wusha Mountain Realm’s core. Thus, the main body of the realm, and the smaller realms beneath its barrier—like Wutu—had not suffered major damage.

But the Shugu Tribe still sought to press deeper into Wusha.

Dan-Zhu blocked them tightly.

On the front line, the two sides clashed back and forth, the battle deadlocked until deep into the night before both withdrew.

After withdrawing, the frowning Dan-Zhu returned to camp, where he saw Mo Hua waiting. At once his face lit up with joy.

“Sir, you’ve returned?”

Mo Hua nodded slightly.

Dan-Zhu could not conceal his delight.

Mo Hua had been researching the famine and comprehending the Laws for several months now, without returning to Wutu or meeting Dan-Zhu.

As he looked, Dan-Zhu suddenly froze.

After months apart, it seemed to him that the Shaman had become… different.

His bearing was calmer, lighter, clearer—as though faintly fused with the heavens and earth around him.

Even his breathing seemed to contain an ineffable rhythm.

And his eyes held a depth so penetrating, as if all things he beheld were stripped of their outer form.

Dan-Zhu’s heart trembled.

Of all the Golden Cores he had seen—even those at late stage—none had carried such a natural, profound demeanor.

Mo Hua himself was unaware.

Immersed in the Laws, he hadn’t noticed his own changes. Seeing Dan-Zhu’s joy turn to astonishment, he asked:

“Is the situation very dire?”

Dan-Zhu snapped out of it, shook his head, and said: “It’s enough that you’re here, Sir.”

Even he hadn’t realized that this time, his call of “Sir” carried deeper sincerity and respect than before.

Afterward, Mo Hua inquired about the battle.

Dan-Zhu answered in detail.

The sudden invaders were from the Shugu Tribe, led by the “Six Freaks of Shugu,” with whom there had been past enmity.

Of course, since Dan-Zhu had killed one, they were now the “Five Freaks.”

The six brothers had once been a whole. With one dead, their hatred of Dan-Zhu ran bone-deep. This attack on Wusha Mountain Realm was also a “revenge.”

The Five Freaks of Shugu alone were not much to worry about. They had already lost to Dan-Zhu once—even as six together, they were no match for the prodigy. With only five now, they were even less of a threat.

But Wusha Mountain Realm was a second-rank realm, bound by the restrictions of Heavenly Dao.

As a Golden Core, Dan-Zhu could only wield Foundation Establishment peak power here, unable to unleash his full might.

Most crucially, his supreme treasure—the Vermilion Bird Mystic-Flame Feather Robe—could not be used, cutting away more than half his strength.

Thus, this genius was invisibly “weakened” by Heavenly Dao.

Meanwhile, the Five Freaks of Shugu, originally weaker than Dan-Zhu, were instead “strengthened” when the realm suppressed cultivation.

With this shift, Dan-Zhu gained no advantage against them.

Mo Hua had brought Dan-Zhu to a second-rank realm to protect him, to prevent higher Golden Core cultivators from targeting him.

Yet Dan-Zhu had not been protected—he had first been “weakened.”

The Five Freaks, instead, were the ones protected.

Mo Hua’s feelings were complicated.

The subtle balance of strength and weakness under Heavenly Dao was indeed delicate.

Once Golden Cores were restricted, the true main force in war became Foundation Establishment.

Victory in this cultivation battle would be determined entirely by Foundation Establishment warriors.

In other words, this was a contest of numbers—between the Vermilion Sparrow Tribe and its allies Wusha, Black-Horn, and Wutu, against the Shugu Tribe’s main force.

In wars between Great Realm States, power decided all: the higher the realm, the stronger; a Nascent Soul could wipe out one side.

In wars of Small Realm States, numbers decided all: more soldiers meant strength—even ants could gnaw an elephant to death.

On Mo Hua’s side, even with Dan-Zhu’s command and the allied tribes’ warriors, their total numbers were still less than half that of the Shugu’s main force.

At present, only about two thousand warriors stood under Dan-Zhu’s command—barely half of the Shugu Tribe’s four thousand.

And even those four thousand were not their full strength.

After all, this war had only just begun.

They would not commit everything at the start.

But what might come later—was uncertain.

Therefore, the current situation was extremely severe.

Dan-Zhu not only faced numerical disadvantage, but his own cultivation was restricted. He could not rely on personal strength to slaughter the enemy and turn the tide. That was why his expression remained so heavy.

Mo Hua thought for a moment, then said, “Don’t worry, let’s fight first and see.”

Afterward, Mo Hua made a simple arrangement.

This arrangement was decided after he did a brief deduction, based on the circumstances.

Mo Hua did not conduct a deeper divination.

Because the scale of this war was too large—six thousand people in total. That was ten times the number who had fought in the battle against Bi Jie.

And the difficulty of calculation was also ten times greater.

This far exceeded the limits of what Mo Hua could deduce.

Moreover, this was a head-on clash, relying on raw strength. There was little room for trickery or clever schemes.

Therefore, Mo Hua could only roughly calculate the general fortune or misfortune, then let both sides fight a few battles, observe the situation, and make the next decisions afterward.

The next morning, the slaughter resumed.

Mo Hua stood on a distant cliff, watching the battlefield, and what he saw was far from optimistic.

With fewer troops, they were indeed weaker.

And within this weakness lay an even more severe problem:

Barbarian Armor.

The Shugu Tribe’s armor was of an entire grade superior to that of all the barbarian soldiers under Dan-Zhu.

And in this battle, the Shugu Tribe had even deployed a more special kind of armor.

It was a set of gray-black, viciously shaped, extremely hard “Fanged Heavy Armor,” forged from the bones of some unknown monster.

This nearly indestructible heavy armor, worn by Shugu barbarian soldiers at the peak of Foundation Establishment, in a war within a Second-Grade Realm, could practically be said to render them invincible.

Even Dan-Zhu himself, without using his Golden Core cultivation or activating his feathered robe artifact, could not possibly break through this “hard-boned” heavy armor.

The outcome was, of course, self-evident.

The battle ended in defeat for Dan-Zhu’s tribe and the Wutu alliance.

The Shugu Tribe advanced fifty li.

Everyone’s faces turned ashen.

Only Mo Hua, after a moment of contemplation, had an unusual gleam flicker in his eyes:

“Shugu Tribe’s… importance…”

(End of this Chapter)