The Quest for Immortality Chapter 2233: War Begins (part 2)

"Dammit, they just use us and toss us aside!"

"Treating our Ten Thousand Formations Sect like a common pack mule..."

"Such blatant disrespect for Formation Masters and utter contempt for the art of Formations will definitely attract retribution sooner or later!"

Yet, all they could manage was to mutter impotent curses in their final moments.

Just like that, the Ten Thousand Formations Sect was wiped from the board.

The roster for the Asura sword competition was etched into the minds of everyone gathered.

Each Sect kept a careful tally of which factions still had disciples in play, who had fallen, and who had retreated from the arena.

After all, the rankings for the sword competition were dictated by the final survivor list.

To ensure victory, one must execute the slaughter thoroughly.

Ensuring not a single disciple escapes scrutiny.

Nothing can be overlooked.

Following two major purges, coupled with the cold-blooded abandonment of the Ten Thousand Formations Sect like a disposable tool, only the elites remained.

At this stage, the only participants left in the Asura battle who were fit to continue were the disciples from the Four Great Sects and the Eight Great Gates.

Currently, the survivors from the Four Sects and Seven Gates had converged before a mountain wall, pinning Mo Hua and the Taixu Gate behind a veil of formations.

The Asura battlefield was vast, and while Mo Hua excelled at hiding his formation layouts, the underlying logic behind them wasn't impossible to decipher once revealed.

"An outer illusion array, paired with the natural fog of the Asura battle, to blind our senses..."

"And buried within that illusion, a concealment formation to mask their aura..."

"It is typical Mo Hua; he is truly a master of these underhanded tricks."

Someone scoffed, "While we have been shedding blood in the heat of battle, Taixu Gate has been hatching a cowardly scheme, lurking here like a fisherman waiting to claim the spoils."

"Enough talk. Let us crush Taixu first, then finish off Mo Hua..."

"Destroy Taixu! Kill Mo Hua!"

The cry echoed through the ranks, though no one surged forward immediately.

Despite their verbal insults and mockery, no one dared to truly trivialize Mo Hua’s capabilities.

Some of the loudest agitators had already fallen victim to Mo Hua’s traps, implanting a seed of genuine terror in their hearts.

Mo Hua had prepared his defenses well.

Even if it was only an illusion array and a concealment formation, the very idea of it caused them significant apprehension.

They feared that by charging forward, they would only walk into a prepared ambush laid by Mo Hua.

Furthermore, having spent the battle betraying and stabbing one another in the back, their temporary alliance against Mo Hua felt brittle and untrustworthy.

They were terrified that while they focused on attacking Mo Hua, their own so-called allies would strike them from behind.

The standoff dragged on, locked into a stalemate with no path forward.

Finally, Ao Zheng of the Four Great Sects and Shen Cangfeng stepped to the front.

Shen Cangfeng had previously fought Mo Hua only to be bested before his sword could even strike, and Ao Zheng had likewise been humiliated by Mo Hua’s cunning.

Both were consumed by a desperate, burning urge to end him.

"Let us swear three oaths."

"Until Taixu Gate is erased and Mo Hua is dead, no one is to turn upon an ally."

"If any sect betrays this pact and moves to plot against the others, we shall all unite to obliterate them first."

"Once Taixu is destroyed and Mo Hua is slain, the pact is void."

"Only then shall we resume our competition and settle our own scores."

This arrangement provided the necessary security to proceed.

Precisely because of the shared threat, it brought a sense of relief to the crowd.

"That sounds acceptable."

"Agreed..."

"Let us unite our strength! Kill Mo Hua first!"

The crowd was whipped into a frenzy of anticipation.

Song Jian, however, felt a pang of regret.

In such a tight-knit formation, there was simply no room for him to execute his own devious plans.

As for Mo Hua, he could only hope for a miracle.

Drawing his Sever Gold Sword, Song Jian merged into the mob, painting a look of fury onto his face:

"Mo Hua is a blight! We must kill him first!"

The participants were all Heavenly Pride Disciples of their respective sects, possessing formidable Cultivation and strength, and their combined strike was nothing short of devastating.

Ao Zheng threw a punch that shattered the stone wall.

Shen Cangfeng swung his sword, pulverizing the boulders.

Supported by Shen Linsu and several other elites, they dismantled half the cliffside in one go.

As the wall collapsed, the formation base was destroyed.

The illusion array dissipated instantly.

The concealment formation hidden within soon began to crumble as well.

Before their eyes, the shimmering lights and illusory mountain stones flickered and vanished, unveiling a hidden valley entrance.

The aperture was narrow, resembling a thin line cutting through the sky, barely wide enough for a single soul to pass.

Towering walls rose on either side, and above the opening, densely packed Second Grade High-Level Formations pulsated with light, extending as far as the eye could see.

The crowd’s expressions curdled at the sight:

"This Mo Hua truly has a knack for selecting a grave..."

"To think they laid down this many formations."

"Is this a sword competition or a contest of Formation mastery?"

Shen Cangfeng barked orders, "Each sect shall dispatch a team. Body cultivators in the lead, sword cultivators in the center, and spiritual cultivators at the rear. We break this block by block."

"Once the path is open, we charge in as one force."

"Understood!"

Shen Cangfeng took the initiative, stepping forward as his longsword crackled with power, raining strikes upon the formation at the One Line Sky.

Then, the disciples of the Four Sects and Seven Gates began their assault in earnest...

Thunderous tremors shook the earth.

...

Observing from outside via the Fang Tian Painting Shadow, the cultivators watching were collectively relieved.

"They finally found him."

"I honestly expected that illusion array to hold out a bit longer."

"What bad luck..."

"The Ten Thousand Formations Sect really wasn't a joke."

"Now this has devolved into a standard war of attrition."

"Four Great Sects and seven others working together—what a grand display of overkill."

"Even Mo Hua’s formations cannot endure this forever. Taixu Gate is doomed."

"Once the valley falls, a massacre is inevitable..."

"Truly a miserable end..."

...

Back at Taixu Gate, Zhang Lan and the other disciples awaiting news felt as though a mountain was pressing down on their hearts, leaving them gasping for air.

In the Sword Observation Tower, the leaders of the Three Mountains stared intently at the Fang Tian Painting Shadow, having forgotten their tea entirely.

Back in the sword discussion field.

The defensive layers Mo Hua had intricately woven were being shredded piece by piece.

Step by step, the disciples of the Four Sects and Seven Gates forced their way into the One Line Sky corridor.

Within the heart of the One Line Sky, the Taixu Gate disciples held their positions, steeling themselves for the coming battle.

Mo Hua remained calm, though his mind was racing, analyzing the variables.

He was still executing the plan he had envisioned.

The biggest hurdle for Taixu Gate was their numerical disadvantage.

Therefore, he had to use every available tactic to prune the "stragglers" first.

In a chaotic brawl, those smaller sects would have been a significant threat to his depleted numbers.

Thus, avoiding direct confrontation and inciting internal mistrust among his enemies had been essential to force them to purge themselves.

Of course, such petty tricks would not win the war.

Taixu Gate could not hide from the inevitable forever.

The final confrontation was now at their doorstep.

The gate would soon face the full, unbridled might of the Heavenly Pride disciples of the Four Great Sects and the Eight Great Gates.

No lone Sect could survive such a concentrated siege.

Taixu Gate was destined to be the first "martyr" among the Eight Great Gates in this Asura struggle.

Amidst the suffocating tension and the scent of coming blood, Mo Hua did not speak. Instead, he closed his eyes to meditate, centering his heart and stabilizing his spirit.

The act of carving so many formations had burned through his divine sense, and he needed every moment to regain his focus.

Divine sense is the essence of a formation.

And, for him right now, it was his only lifeline.

...

Outside, the rumbling intensified as sword Qi, spells, and blood-lust swirled together.

Under the relentless pressure exerted by the elite disciples, the outer layers of the One Line Sky finally buckled.

Bit by bit, the enemy breached the corridor.

The defensive pressure surged until the very foundations began to groan.

Finally, a piercing flash of sword Qi shattered the final defense at the entrance.

One Line Sky was wide open.

The invaders erupted in triumph.

"Charge!"

"Kill them all!"

A disciple from the Daluo Sect was the first to dive into the valley.

But before he could even plant his feet on the ground, disaster struck.

Five massive swords descended upon him at blinding speed, their sheer force instantly depleting his Dao Discussion Jade, forcing him out of the competition with a flash of blue light.

The pursuing disciples halted in shock, only to find five hulking figures blocking the entrance.

These five men were towering, clad in heavy, ancient armor, their bodies radiating raw blood Qi, eyes burning with icy resolve like stone statues brought to life.

Like mountain gods, they stood firm, creating an insurmountable wall.

The colossal swords in their hands acted like guillotines, ruthless and cold. Anyone daring to rush in was met with a whirlwind of slaughter.

In the span of a single breath, a disciple from the Sever Gold Sect, one from Lingxiao, and another from Daluo were hacked to pieces as they stepped forward.

The five guardians held the line, projecting an air of absolute, unbreakable strength.