Chapter 340: Balance
Mister Zhuang’s expression was filled with reverence.
“This formation contains the true laws of the Heavenly Dao. Beneath this formation, all living beings are equal. Whoever violates its taboos—no matter their status or cultivation—will be annihilated without distinction.”
“Hence, this formation is also known as the Heavenly Dao Grand Formation!”
“Heavenly Dao Grand Formation…”
Mo Hua murmured the name, deeply engraving it into his memory, while a spark of longing rose within him.
He hoped that one day, he too could draw such a formation that connected heaven and earth.
He couldn’t help asking, “Mister, who created this formation? Was it an immortal?”
Mister Zhuang shook his head. “When the Dao Court was founded, this formation already existed. No one knows its origin, nor who created it. But the one who drew it—even if not an immortal—must have been a cultivator who had already stepped into the Immortal Dao.”
“That’s why people also call it the Innate Grand Formation—meaning it was born before Heaven and Earth themselves.”
“The Dao Court used this Heavenly Dao Grand Formation to define the ranking of prefectures and their boundaries. The formation within a prefecture determines which cultivation realms are permitted within it, and thus its grade is set accordingly.”
Mister Zhuang sighed. “Yet, very few cultivators truly know of the Heavenly Dao Grand Formation.”
“Many formation masters don’t even believe that the heavens themselves are a grand formation.”
Mo Hua asked curiously, “Is that because there’s no inheritance or record of it?”
Mister Zhuang shook his head. “Even if there were records, they wouldn’t believe it.”
Mo Hua was stunned. “Why not?”
Mister Zhuang pointed toward the sky. “Tell me, what do you see up there?”
Mo Hua tilted his small head back, gazing upward for a long time until his neck grew sore. At last, he hesitantly replied,
“Clouds…”
“And besides that?”
Mo Hua shook his head. “Nothing.”
Mister Zhuang nodded slightly.
“Yes… nothing. No formation runes, no Spirit-Pivots, not even any formation medium. Without a formation core, how could it be called a formation?”
“Then, Mister, you can’t see it either?”
Mister Zhuang looked at him and smiled gently. “I’m just like you. I can’t see anything.”
“Not only me—even cultivators whose cultivation surpasses mine, and whose mastery of formations is far deeper, see nothing at all.”
“If we can see nothing, and there seems to be nothing—how could we claim it’s a formation?”
“But aren’t there records in cultivation texts?” Mo Hua asked.
“Worldly records can be mistaken,” Zhuang explained. “Even cultivation scriptures shouldn’t be believed blindly.”
“I see…”
Mo Hua nodded thoughtfully, then lifted his head again. The sky seemed boundless, the drifting clouds faint and ethereal, concealing infinite and everlasting mystery.
Something flickered in his eyes. With a firm expression, he said, “Mister, this must be a formation.”
Mister Zhuang smiled faintly. “Why do you think so?”
Mo Hua shook his head. “I don’t know… I just feel that it is.”
Mister Zhuang paused, then gently patted his head. “A formation master’s intuition is a form of perception toward the Heavenly Dao. Sometimes, it’s very important. I hope that one day, you’ll truly be able to see the formation in the heavens.”
Encouraged by those words, Mo Hua nodded seriously.
Then he asked again, “Mister, if there really is a Heavenly Dao Grand Formation above us… what’s its purpose? Or rather, what’s the meaning of such a law?”
Mister Zhuang’s gaze sharpened slightly, and he uttered four solemn words:
“The Heavenly Dao’s Balance.”
Mo Hua seemed to understand, yet not fully.
Mister Zhuang lifted his head, staring at the vast heavens as he spoke slowly.
“I, too, believe that the Heavenly Dao Grand Formation exists. It’s just that our Divine-Sense is too weak, and our understanding of formations too shallow to perceive it.”
“Assume the Heavenly Dao Grand Formation does exist…”
He looked back at Mo Hua.
“Then if the prefectures had no rank, no restrictions on cultivation, no Heavenly Dao to impose balance—what do you think the cultivation world would become?”
Mo Hua thought for a while and ventured, “It would become… chaotic?”
“And why chaotic?” Zhuang asked.
“Because cultivators’ power would be without limits?”
Zhuang nodded.
“Never overestimate human nature. Humans are a race that will kill for profit, for vengeance, even for amusement.”
“Without restrictions, high-level cultivators would slaughter the weak without restraint.”
“The Dao-heart of man is rarely steadfast—it is restless, wavering, indulgent, like duckweed drifting upon waves, rising and falling without root. Even the most righteous can harbor evil thoughts at times.”
“If among a hundred high-level cultivators, only one gives in to malice, it is still a calamity for all the low-level ones.”
“Without the Heavenly Dao’s balance, higher cultivators could butcher the weaker ones effortlessly.”
“Qi-Refining cultivators might face slaughter from Golden Core, Nascent Soul, or even Profound-Hollow-Void cultivators, with no power to resist.”
“One Golden Core cultivator could massacre a city; a Nascent Soul could exterminate a realm; a Profound-Hollow-Void could erase an entire prefecture.”
“Some Demonic Dao overlords, unrestrained, might even refine all living beings in a prefecture just to forge their magic treasures.”
Zhuang sighed deeply. “The strength of the cultivation world lies in its high-level cultivators, but its endurance depends on its lower ranks.”
“If the weaker cultivators are wiped out, with no new generation to rise, decline is inevitable.”
“In the end, the entire cultivation world would destroy itself through its own slaughter.”
“But with the Heavenly Dao Grand Formation as balance, higher cultivators dare not act recklessly. The lower ones have room to survive, allowing the cycle of cultivation to continue endlessly.”
Mo Hua nodded slowly, finally grasping the meaning of balance.
For example, Tōngxiān City was a second-grade prefecture—if a Foundation Establishment cultivator caused chaos, others of the same realm could counter him. Even Qi-Refining cultivators, if united, might resist.
But without the Heavenly Dao’s balance, they would stand no chance against those above them.
He then asked, “But in that case… if a Dao-Sin were born, wouldn’t the cultivators within the same prefecture be powerless against it?”
For Dao-Sins possessed immense blood energy, capable of devouring others and regenerating endlessly.
“Yes,” Zhuang nodded. “Everything has pros and cons. With the Heavenly Dao’s formation, higher cultivators are restrained—but Dao-Sins become invincible within a prefecture.”
“Without the Heavenly Dao’s formation, Dao-Sins could be slain, yet high cultivators would then slaughter freely, birthing infinite sin.”
“Between two evils, one must choose the lesser. A Dao-Sin might destroy one prefecture; but unrestrained cultivators could doom the entire cultivation world.”
He sighed again, his tone heavy with meaning.
“After all, in this world, the ones who kill the most… are always humans, not beasts.”
Those words echoed in Mo Hua’s heart, stirring a strange, indescribable emotion.
He pondered in silence for a long time before finally asking the question that weighed most upon him:
“Then… is there any way to deal with the Fēng Xī?”
He had grown up in Tōngxiān City. The thought of its cultivators being driven into the Great Wilderness, wandering homelessly, filled him with sorrow.
He could not bear to see Tōngxiān City destroyed by that monstrous boar.
Mister Zhuang looked at him, a faint trace of relief in his eyes. “You already have an idea, don’t you?”
“Yes.” Mo Hua nodded. “After thinking about it again and again, the only way to deal with Fēng Xī… is through a Grand Formation.”
From what he’d read in Zhang Lan’s records, there were families and sects that had relied on their protective grand formations to slay great demons.
Mo Hua lifted his gaze hopefully. “Mister… can I learn to construct Grand Formations?”
For a moment, Mister Zhuang’s expression turned distant.
He had long known this day would come—but hadn’t expected it to arrive so soon.
A Qi-Refining first-grade cultivator, wanting to learn Grand Formations…
That in itself wasn’t strange.
Grand Formations were every formation master’s ultimate pursuit. Every array master in the world longed to learn them.
Even assisting in one—adding just a few strokes of runes—was already a great honor.
But Mo Hua was different. He truly had the qualifications to learn.
His Divine-Sense strength, his control, his experience and proficiency in formations—among first-grade array masters, he was already at the peak.
Yet… a Grand Formation was far from simple.
Mister Zhuang sighed. “You must think carefully.”
“I already have!” Mo Hua said firmly.
“No, not yet,” Zhuang shook his head gravely. “Grand Formations are the most complex, the most difficult, and the most massive of all formation constructs. You cannot simply decide to learn and expect to master them. Nor can you build one alone.”
“To construct a Grand Formation requires immense manpower and resources.”
“The formation media must be forged by artifact refiners and constructed by craftsmen. You can draw the formation cores, yes—but the thousands of subsidiary arrays within it? You can’t possibly draw them all yourself. You’ll need many formation masters to assist you.”
“Then there’s the cost—the materials for the formation media, the spiritual ink for the runes, the spirit stones to power the array—all of it amounts to staggering numbers.”
“Furthermore, the formation cores are exceedingly difficult to craft and consume vast amounts of Divine-Sense. Even learning how is no easy task.”
“And most crucially…” Zhuang’s tone grew solemn as he fixed his gaze on Mo Hua.
“Even if you pour in everything and succeed in constructing the Grand Formation—what if it still cannot withstand the Fēng Xī?”
“After exhausting all manpower, materials, and spirit stones—if the city still falls—what will happen to Tōngxiān’s cultivators then? By that point, migration would be impossible. How would they survive?”
“Have you thought about all that?”
With each word, Mo Hua’s heart sank a little further, until disappointment clouded his face and his small head drooped low.
Mister Zhuang gently patted him on the head again, his tone soft.
“Think these things through carefully before you decide whether to learn the Grand Formation—and whether to build one.”
(End of Chapter)