Chapter 273: Black Mountain Stronghold

Mo Hua stared in shock.

“Black Mountain Stronghold!”

Deep within the Great Black Mountain—there was actually a stronghold hidden there!

Its mountain gate was ancient, likely standing for over a hundred years.

Bloodstains mottled the gate—clearly left by slaughter and beheadings, where splattered blood had seeped into the wood. Over the years, the stench of dried and renewed blood mingled into a nauseating odor.

It looked both sinister and eerie.

“Midnight’s third watch… a blood offering to ask for entry,” Mo Hua murmured inwardly.

So that was the true meaning of “offering a head to ask the way”—to kill a man and offer his head as tribute. Only then would the Black Mountain Stronghold’s gate reveal itself.

The appearance of the gate meant that the Criminal Cultivators within acknowledged and accepted you.

Sure enough, moments later, accompanied by a creaky and unpleasant “squeeeak”, the gate slowly opened.

The fat cultivator, his expression feverish, straightened his robe and stepped into the Black Mountain Stronghold.

Once he entered, the creaking resumed—the great door closed again, and then gradually vanished.

The fat cultivator disappeared without a trace.

Mo Hua’s eyelid twitched.

So that’s how one entered the Black Mountain Stronghold…

No wonder no one had ever discovered it all these years—it was hidden that deep.

And judging from this, everyone who could enter must truly have blood on their hands—Criminal Cultivators through and through.

At least, that fat one certainly wasn’t any good person.

He had six lives on his hands—and turned on a supposed brother without hesitation, fast and vicious, one sword through the chest, impossible to guard against.

He must’ve befriended that skinny cultivator only to have a “living token” ready for sacrifice—waiting for the right moment to take his head and use it to “ask for the way” into Black Mountain Stronghold.

He probably never cared about that headless companion at all.

The path of cultivation was perilous, and the human heart unpredictable.

Mo Hua had witnessed that truth yet again—and silently took it to heart.

When dealing with unfamiliar cultivators, it was best to stay alert—especially those you only half knew. You may know their faces, but never their hearts.

At the same time, Mo Hua had learned something else.

If one ever needed to strike, it should be done like that fat cultivator—swiftly and without warning.

“What should I do next?” Mo Hua frowned, deep in thought.

Should he sneak inside to take a look?

The Black Mountain Stronghold seemed strange. Not knowing what lay within left him uneasy.

At the very least, he wanted to gauge how many Criminal Cultivators were inside.

Just a quiet look, without alerting anyone…

Mo Hua pondered silently.

But how could he get in?

That was a problem.

There must be Concealment Formations carved into the mountain gate—far denser than those lining the mountain path.

Without a careful sweep of Divine-Sense, one would never notice them.

Now that the gate had closed and hidden itself again, it wouldn’t open unless someone else came to “offer a head and ask the way.”

He couldn’t exactly throw in a severed head himself just to knock, could he…

And even if he went in from the front, concealment or not, he might still be detected.

If discovered, that would be disastrous.

“What to do…” Mo Hua mused.

Though the gate had vanished, its outline still lingered within his Sea of Consciousness.

He probed the stronghold with his Divine-Sense, mind spinning rapidly—then gradually, an idea took shape.

No cultivation structure could exist without formations; every building relied on them for concealment, defense, and alert systems.

This Black Mountain Stronghold, eerie as it seemed, was no exception—it was still a structure raised by cultivators, its many functions entirely formation-based.

And if there was a skilled formation master inside, that meant the entire stronghold was likely constructed around formations.

Which also meant—there was a way in.

After all, formations were Mo Hua’s greatest strength.

Remaining hidden, he circled the mountain gate, forming a rough idea in his mind.

The stronghold was built against the mountainside, embraced by peaks on both sides, with a gate sealing the only gap—flanked by high walls.

Climbing up along the ridges, Mo Hua indeed found the towering walls.

The gate was shrouded in a Concealment Formation—but the side walls were not.

It seemed the Concealment Formation was difficult to learn and draw, so the formation master had only hidden the front, not the entire perimeter.

Mo Hua exhaled in relief. It seemed the formation master’s skill, while decent, was not extraordinary.

Probably just a little better than his own… just a little.

Aside from the Concealment Formation on the gate, the walls were layered mainly with Defensive and Warning Formations.

The defensive ones included Earth-Stone Arrays, Earth-Wood Arrays, and several Earth-Stabilizing Arrays—mostly compound formations, with a few single-layer ones mixed in.

There were also several arrays Mo Hua didn’t recognize, but their structure resembled the Compass Parent-Child Formation, and they, too, were of the metal element—likely detection arrays.

Hidden front, guarded sides—an overall reasonable design to prevent surprise attacks.

Mo Hua nodded. The arrangement was clever enough—certainly sufficient to deter ordinary cultivators, even most formation masters.

But Mo Hua had personally designed and inscribed every array for the largest artifact and alchemy shops in Tōngxiān City. He understood first-class architectural formations like the back of his hand.

By comparison, the formations on this stronghold—though intricate—were constrained by the designer’s narrow scope and the crude nature of the structure itself.

To Mo Hua’s eyes, the flaws were plentiful.

Moreover, the entire formation network seemed to have been drawn by a single formation master over a long time—old and new layers overlapping, some even conflicting, held together by sheer force.

Ordinary formation masters drew slowly.

Someone like Mo Hua—who drew formations daily, knew them by heart, and had trained under the Celestial Evolution Art, sharpening his Divine-Sense and speed—was exceedingly rare.

For a single person to draw all this was understandable.

But that only meant even more vulnerabilities.

Mo Hua felt assured—the formation master behind this wasn’t beyond him.

After circling twice more and mapping out the structure, he located a weak point, sat cross-legged, and took out brush and ink from his Storage Ring.

The best way to deal with a formation… was to dispel it.

Breaking a formation caused too much disturbance—and with his current cultivation, Mo Hua couldn’t brute-force through this one anyway.

Besides, as Mister Zhuang had once told him—the true measure of a formation master’s skill lies in dispelment, not destruction.

Mo Hua remembered that lesson clearly.

So, he began.

First, he dispelled the Warning Formation to avoid detection, then used interlocking rune-counteraction to neutralize the connected Earth-Stone and Earth-Wood Arrays.

That section was isolated—independent from the greater network—so its deactivation wouldn’t be noticed.

When he finished, the runes flickered faintly, then dimmed to gray, their power fading.

The corner of the wall, serving as the array’s medium, withered as the runes lost force, becoming brittle and soft.

Sensing no movement nearby, Mo Hua quietly drew a small dagger and began chipping away at the wall.

Master Chen had forged the Thousand-Jin Staff for him—and, feeling unsatisfied, later crafted this little dagger as well, originally meant for peeling fruit.

It turned out to be perfect for digging through walls.

Mo Hua dug, paused, scanned with Divine-Sense, then continued.

He didn’t know how long he worked, but at last—the wall gave way, and a small hole appeared.

Covered in dust and dirt, Mo Hua’s eyes gleamed brightly.

“Success!”

Now he could slip inside and take a look!

Being young and small-built, the hole fit him perfectly—and was unlikely to be noticed.

He rested briefly, restored his energy and spiritual power, reactivated his Concealment Technique, checked that all was in order, and then carefully crawled through the opening.

Beneath the pitch-black night, deep within the sinister mountains…

Little Mo Hua slipped silently into the Black Mountain Stronghold, unseen and unheard.

After two or three centuries, the Black Mountain Stronghold had finally welcomed its first guest who didn’t use the front gate.

(End of Chapter)