Immortality Through Array Formations Chapter 2236 Chapter 1008: Ink Manipulation (Part 3)

A collective sense of regret settled upon several Formation Elders.

Many cultivators present at the scene had observed this grim reality.

The defensive formations protecting the Taixu Gate were nearing their limit.

After all, up to this moment, Mo Hua had already deployed a significant number of formations.

The relentless assault from the Four Sects and Seven Gates had effectively depleted the majority of the arrays he had meticulously prepared.

The few remaining defensive works could not hold out for much longer.

Deep within the Sword Discussion Conference, Mo Hua was acutely aware of his precarious situation.

Outside the valley, the air roiled with clashing Daoist skills, vibrating formations, and an endless barrage of thunderous impacts.

Mo Hua kept his composure, sitting quietly atop a large boulder within the valley.

Though the slab of stone looked entirely ordinary, Mo Hua had not shifted from his spot since he arrived.

He had begun his Formation Painting the moment he stepped into the valley.

Utilizing the precious window of time bought by his Illusion Array and Concealment Formation, he had intermittently created twenty High-Rank Formations.

The bulk of these had been shattered during the prior onslaught.

Now, only three or four remained.

These remaining few were under constant pressure and were quickly nearing exhaustion.

With the formations on the brink of collapse, the situation grew increasingly dire.

"Since things have come to this, there is no need for concealment anymore..."

Mo Hua calmly retrieved his brushes and ink, spread out his formation substrates, and began to work.

This time, he did not bother with a small blanket or any other method of obfuscation.

He chose to go all out, unleashing his fastest possible speed in constructing the formations.

With a deep, intense gaze, Mo Hua funneled his Divine Sense into his craft, his hand moving so rapidly that it appeared as a blurred phantom.

Under his guidance, his strokes flowed with grace. Profound formation patterns spilled onto the media and jade surfaces like rushing water, resulting in flawless, sophisticated, and exquisite formations.

The sheer velocity of his work was nothing short of astonishing.

Outside the valley, the cultivators who had been watching Mo Hua intently suddenly erupted in an uproar.

"This..."

"Is it even possible to paint formations at such a pace?"

"Is he not being too quick? This looks to be more than twice his previous speed."

"Does this mean that when the young man was hiding his work with that small blanket earlier, he was deliberately concealing his true prowess?"

"It is truly difficult to fathom how someone could maintain such a speed."

"And he is doing this without a single mistake? Just how profound is his familiarity with these formations?"

The deeper they probed, the more profound their astonishment grew.

The entire Ten Thousand Formations Sect was equally struck with awe.

One disciple asked in a hushed tone, "Elder, how does one even begin to learn such a technique?"

The elders of the Ten Thousand Formations Sect remained speechless, rendered dumb by the sight.

The morale of the entire Taixu Gate, meanwhile, surged upward.

In particular, those disciples close to Mo Hua watched with eyes burning with anticipation.

They understood that their junior brother was done playing; he was finally laying his full hand on the table.

Within the Dao Discussion Valley, Mo Hua remained utterly focused, silent, and entirely dedicated to his painting.

A string of Second Grade Nineteen Patterns High-Rank Formations materialized beneath his brush, etched onto the waiting media.

He appeared as nothing less than a cold, unfeeling "formation machine."

As he finished, groups of disciples led by Hao Xuan would use swift movement techniques to carry the finished arrays to the valley's entrance.

Outside, lives were being sacrificed in the attack.

Inside, Mo Hua labored to maintain the defense.

Gradually, it dawned on everyone that the rate at which the Four Sects and Seven Gates consumed formations during their siege could not match Mo Hua's speed of creation.

And Mo Hua was only one individual.

Even considering the narrow pass and the defensive pressure provided by the five brothers of Tai'a, the reality was already breathtaking.

Cries of disbelief echoed throughout the crowd.

They had never imagined witness to someone capable of painting formations with such unbelievable efficiency.

Aside from the common cultivators, even certain elders from prominent Formation Sects or Noble Formation Houses found the display hard to believe.

At this rate, unless a true top-tier genius stepped in to intervene, they could throw the entire force of the Four Sects and Seven Gates at him and still fail to drain Mo Hua's reserves.

"Is this truly... the weight of the Qianxue Array Dao Leader..."

Every young talent born of a formation lineage, who had dedicated their life to the craft, felt a crushing pressure settle in their chest, making it difficult to breathe.

Meanwhile, in the camp of the Ten Thousand Formations Sect, the initial shock gave way to elders furrowing their brows and shaking their heads.

"The Taixu Gate... they cannot hold on."

A confused disciple asked, "But are they not successfully holding the line?"

Mo Hua’s painting speed was immense, and the Taixu Gate's defense remained firm.

The elder of the Ten Thousand Formations Sect shook his head with a pitying expression.

"He creates formations quickly, but the available formation media is finite. Even the most skilled cook cannot prepare a feast without grain. Once the media is exhausted, what good is his speed?"

Mo Hua needed to dismantle existing hardware to re-inscribe his work.

The Sword Discussion Conference provided a limited supply of materials, meaning Mo Hua’s stock of formation media was strictly capped.

The total count brought by the Taixu Gate, including those seized and dismantled, amounted to little more than thirty.

Nearly twenty had already been sacrificed in the valley's defense.

At this moment, there were, at most, fewer than ten pieces of media left.

Regardless of how endless Mo Hua's Divine Sense seemed, or how swiftly his brush moved, his materials were nearly spent.

This meant the valley's defensive line had reached the end of its life.

The elders of the Ten Thousand Formations Sect possessed the experience to spot this weakness early on.

While other cultivators had been too blinded by Mo Hua’s speed to notice, they eventually began to grasp the truth.

"The Taixu Gate... they are finished."

No matter how fast he painted, his efforts were futile. As the struggle between offense and defense dragged on, the disciples of the Four Sects and Seven Gates—sacrificing their lives without hesitation—slowly pushed Mo Hua to the point where his media was depleted.

With the last of the formation media gone, there remained nothing left to paint upon.

Mo Hua stayed calm, neither arrogant nor despairing, neither angry nor discouraged. He simply sat in meditation, closed his eyes, and began gathering his Divine Sense.

It was as if the chaotic world around him no longer existed.