Immortality Through Array Formations Chapter 2123 Chapter 1003: Making a Move (2)
Previously on Immortality Through Array Formations...
The normally reserved Ouyang Xuan delivered an extended monologue.
Mo Hua found himself sinking into profound contemplation.
Fusion between sects and noble families...
At first glance, it seems like a win-win arrangement.
Yet at its core, doesn't it amount to a double "monopoly" over Dao cultivation legacy and Dao cultivation assets?
Ultimately, the sects and clans unite to expand and dominate, achieving total control.
Who ends up bearing the brunt of this in the end?
After a brief pause, Mo Hua suddenly turned to Ouyang Xuan, "How do you know all of this?"
Ouyang Xuan let out a cold snort, his face twisted in contempt, yet he replied to Mo Hua straightforwardly: "I overheard it while the Elder was talking with the Sect Leader."
"Oh..." Mo Hua gave a nod.
For Ouyang Xuan to listen in on talks between the Elder and the Sect Leader suggests his background is more elevated than anyone imagined.
"Are there limits on the runes for the sword discussion?" Mo Hua inquired of Situ Jian.
Situ Jian affirmed with a nod, "In a sword discussion, just like with formations, unrestricted use of runes would throw off the entire equilibrium."
Particularly those "wealthy fellows" who splash out on runes without a second thought—nobody could withstand that.
"Still, the constraints are only on grade and number, not on variety," Situ Jian went on. "The Spirit Talisman Sect ought to craft some exceptional high-grade runes specifically for the sword discussion."
"Hmm." Mo Hua nodded thoughtfully. "No worries, we'll dive into the spar and adapt as we go."
"Junior Brother..." After a brief hush, Situ Jian ventured, "Are we... sticking with the old strategy?"
That simple approach feels too rough around the edges.
After deploying it across so many bouts, rivals have definitely devised ways to counter it.
Clinging to it now might mean we can't secure victories anymore.
Mo Hua grinned. "It's fine, we'll run it one more time."
He cast a look toward Situ Jian, Cheng Mo, Linghu Xiao, and Ouyang Xuan, his words carrying profound weight:
"Think of this as 'weight training' for you guys, honing your skills in the heat of battle to boost teamwork."
"Because if I stepped in fully, the fight wouldn't play out like this..."
Cheng Mo, Situ Jian, and Linghu Xiao went still for a beat, then their gazes sparked with excitement, as they bobbed their heads eagerly: "Yes, Junior Brother."
Ouyang Xuan stayed quiet, though a shadow of intense unease flashed in his eyes—something that could be labeled...
Fear.
...
The sword discussion arena sprawled with interlocking peaks.
Mo Hua and his group stepped inside.
Beyond the arena's edge, following a hazy sweep of the terrain, the silhouettes of Mo Hua and his allies emerged, igniting a flurry of chatter.
Most of it negative.
Jabs such as "Taixu Gate is doomed," "The Elder lacks wisdom, the Sect Leader is average, Elders bow to influence," "Disciples seethe but hold their tongues."
On top of that, pitying tones like "Poor Linghu Xiao," "Poor Ouyang Xuan," "Poor that burly fool," "Poor the sword-bearer"...
And sneers too, such as "How's this brazen Mo Hua still hanging around," "Wonder how long he'll last," "Taixu Gate's shame," "Worthless trash"...
Nothing new there.
As the backlash swelled like waves outside the arena, the clash ignited within.
This stayed a free-for-all among five fighters.
The setup remained unchanged, and Mo Hua saw no point in tweaking plans; he opted for the simplest combat method, letting Linghu Xiao and the rest clash head-on to build natural coordination.
The field wasn't vast, and Mo Hua's Divine Sense proved overwhelmingly potent—he could sweep it all and pinpoint enemy positions effortlessly.
Yet he held back from warning them.
Since the moment hadn't arrived for his brand of "sneaky maneuvers."
The opposing forces collided squarely.
Among Mo Hua's five, the "burly fool" Cheng Mo held the vanguard, while the others fanned out for battle, shaping the simplest array.
Facing them from the Spirit Talisman Sect, a burly youth took the lead.
The very same cocky and overbearing lad who'd earlier hurled insults at Linghu Xiao.
The Wu clan's Wu Ming, from Kun State's noble house.
Wu Ming sported gleaming armor, his forearms sheathed in ostentatious crimson guards that screamed luxury and might, obviously costing a fortune.
The armor was tailored to perfection.
Those guards formed the core of his personal Spiritual Artifact, hammered out with lavish investment.
Besides Wu Ming, the other four from the Spirit Talisman Sect also flaunted ornate gear, radiating an aura of "money's no object."
Even as just one of the Twelve Sects, the Spirit Talisman Sect drew entrants who were either rich or elite.
Wu Ming's teammates were all elite heirs from prominent lines.
A single look from Mo Hua showed their outfits were bespoke at premium rates for the Sword Discussion Conference.
Their caliber outstripped custom Spiritual Artifacts from Gushan Refining Workshop by a couple tiers.
But the price tag? At least tenfold.
And they counted as "disposables."
Such extravagance was likely the domain of Kun State's aristocratic clans burning through Spirit Stones.
Mo Hua observed with astonishment.
Typically, rivals clash upon sighting each other, skipping chit-chat for straight action.
This round differed; prior to engaging, Wu Ming had something to declare.
The Spirit Talisman Sect held their ground, not striking first.
Mo Hua refrained from ordering an advance, curious to catch his words.
Wu Ming flexed his shining arm guard, dramatically jabbing it toward Linghu Xiao with a mocking grin:
"Linghu Xiao, today you'll definitely drop to my blade!"
"I'll show Miss Lu that you, the famed Sword Dao Genius, are nothing but a spineless flop, unworthy of even a look from her..."
The opening part boomed with force and flair.
The ending veered into vagueness.
Mo Hua couldn't resist glancing at Linghu Xiao, "Who's Miss Lu?"
He'd figured this was a duel of talents, not some gossip-fueled drama.
Linghu Xiao appeared equally puzzled, at a loss over Wu Ming's rambling drivel.