Immortality Through Array Formations Chapter 2241 Chapter 1040: The Eerie Formation Master

The five Tai'a brothers immediately mobilized, positioning themselves like five immovable boulders to shield Mo Hua and blocking all paths of approach.

Simultaneously, Cheng Mo, Yang Qianjun, Situ Jian, and the rest of the group converged around Mo Hua to fortify their position.

Utilizing his superior evasive techniques, Feng Zichen initiated an assault against Mo Hua.

He deployed the Carefree Wind Stepping Technique to bridge the gap, weaving through the ranks of the Taixu Gate disciples with the Trigram Wind Wandering Step until his silhouette blurred into a pale ghost. Following a dozen rapid clashes, he breached the defensive perimeter, halting a mere twenty zhang away from Mo Hua.

This distance marked the closest point any disciple from the Four Sects and Seven Gates had managed to attain.

Feng Zichen promptly unleashed a lethal strike aimed directly at Mo Hua's vital points.

However, before he covered even ten zhang, jagged stones erupted from the earth, constructing a makeshift cage that barred his path.

Within an instant, the five Tai'a brothers descended upon him, brandishing colossal blades and raining heavy blows down upon their target.

The sheer force behind these gargantuan weapons was terrifying.

Recognizing the danger, Feng Zichen, a virtuoso of swift swordplay, dared not endure a direct confrontation and was forced to withdraw.

Yet, no sooner had he retreated several paces than a trace of Spiritual Ink bled into the soil, transmuting the ground into a treacherous mire of quicksand.

Caught off guard while preoccupied with the Tai'a brothers, Feng Zichen inadvertently sank his right foot into the trap. Though he extricated himself immediately, a chill of primal fear gripped him.

In the volatility of such a skirmish, being ensnared by a formation for even a pair of heartbeats could prove fatal.

Indeed, Situ Jian, stalking for an opening, seized the moment to manifest a strand of Li Fire Sword Qi. It sliced through the ether and struck Feng Zichen squarely in the back.

As he reeled from the impact, Feng Zichen looked up to find himself facing a pair of massive axes.

Sharing a deep tactical synergy with Situ Jian, Cheng Mo capitalized on the distraction caused by the Li Fire Sword, swinging both axes with ferocious intent.

The force of the impact landed squarely on Feng Zichen.

Just as he neared the brink of death, Shi Tiangang lunged forward with a thunderous punch, intercepting Cheng Mo and granting the battered Feng Zichen a momentary reprieve.

Following this, Song Kui of the Sever Gold Sect, Qin Cangliu of the Gui Water Sect, and several other elite cultivators from the Purple Mist and Lingxiao Sects joined the fray, launching a concerted charge toward Mo Hua.

However, lacking Feng Zichen's agile movement techniques, they found themselves unable to penetrate the ranks of the Taixu Gate disciples.

Attempting to force their way forward was futile; they could neither shatter the defense of the Tai'a brothers nor parry the lethal Sword Qi emanated by Linghu Xiao.

From start to finish, they remained unable to breach the outer circle surrounding Mo Hua.

Meanwhile, the slender Mo Hua remained perched upon a large boulder, as steady as a monolith.

Driven by his Divine Thought, tendrils of black and vibrant red Spiritual Ink drifted before him like gossamer threads.

At intervals, the ink resembled serpentine creatures threading across the terrain.

Each formation he wove, combined with the lethal strategies of the Taixu Gate disciples, claimed lives with systematic precision.

Mo Hua’s expression remained serene, his gaze harboring a profound, detached stillness.

As the Spiritual Ink danced at his fingertips, the entire battlefield felt like a chess game where life, death, and the very intent to kill resided under his total dominion.

This macabre display chilled the bones of Shi Tiangang, Qin Cangliu, and their peers.

They faced a type of Formation Master previously unknown to them—terrifyingly potent.

His true strength did not stem from raw cultivation but from a mastery over environments, a command of the battlefield, and the ability to dictate the fates of fellow cultivators through inscrutable formations.

He must be slain!

Regardless of the sacrifice, this freakishly gifted Mo Hua had to be eliminated.

This resolution consolidated instantly in every mind.

Discarding all self-preservation, they continued to assault Mo Hua, yet every attempt to break the Taixu Gate formation failed. Instead, their own ranks dwindled, harvested one by one by the traps laid out before them.

“If melee is impossible, use long-range strikes!” Qin Cangliu commanded. “Ye Zhiyuan, deploy Sword Control!”

“I cannot find an opening!” Ye Zhiyuan snarled, his attention divided by Hao Xuan and a squadron of Taixu Gate disciples.

The vulnerability of the Sword Control technique lay in the ease with which it could be disrupted.

Hao Xuan, possessing keen movement skills, appeared to relish the opportunity for disruption. Ever since Ye Zhiyuan’s inaugural attempt to strike Mo Hua, Hao Xuan had fixated on him.

Each time he sought distance to command his blade, Hao Xuan was there to deliver a stinging blow to the back of his head.

Ye Zhiyuan was apoplectic.

How could an elite disciple of the Eight Great Gates in the Qian Learning State Boundary stoop to using a rod instead of refining his sword?

Qin Cangliu berated the ineffective Ye Zhiyuan. Once, Ye Zhiyuan had been the peerless prodigy of the Daluo Sect; his talent was so grand and his tongue so sharp that none dared challenge him. But since his ignominious defeat at the hands of Mo Hua, his aura of invincibility had dissolved, and the reverence for him as a ‘Sword Dao Genius’ had eroded significantly.

Cursing under his breath, Qin Cangliu diverted his energy to intercept Hao Xuan, creating a gap for Ye Zhiyuan. Mo Hua’s formations were becoming too grotesque to ignore. With the Taixu Gate disciples empowered by, what seemed to be, strange armor, the balance of power had shifted drastically.

If they continued along this trajectory, they were looking at total obliteration. Their sole path to salvation lay in Ye Zhiyuan’s Sword Control.

“Use your Sword Control to assault Mo Hua from a distance,” Qin Cangliu urged. “Even if you fail to land a lethal blow, you must harass him! Do not allow him to continue his work on these formations!”

Though Qin Cangliu was no master of arrays, he possessed basic knowledge. Creating formations required the total concentration of one's Divine Sense. Using the Divine Sense to navigate Spiritual Ink was exponentially more demanding than conventional formation drawing.

If Ye Zhiyuan’s flying sword reached Mo Hua, it would inevitably interrupt his process. Without Mo Hua’s formations, the Taixu Gate’s defenses would eventually falter.

Should the reinforcements waiting outside succeed in collapsing the mountain’s containment barrier, their combined might would surely crush Taixu Gate. Everything hinged on the efficacy of Ye Zhiyuan’s skill.

After all, he was once the foremost Sword Control prodigy of the Daluo Sect, and the Daluo Flying Sword Skill he wielded was no common technique.