The Quest for Immortality Chapter 2272: Taoist Heart

Mo Hua had taken on the role of the "leader," yet in these turbulent times, leading proved no simple matter.

These disciples from the Four Sects, Eight Gates, and Twelve Streams were elite prodigies of their sects, boasting solid backgrounds, exceptional talent, and towering pride. Each nursed their own schemes, and when brought together, taming the turmoil brewing in their minds became an immense challenge.

All of them counted as "enemies" of Taixu Gate, having suffered defeat at the Sword Discussion Conference under Taixu Gate's dominance.

Grudges festered between them too.

In the Asura Battle, for instance, Sever Gold Sect launched a sneak attack on Lingxiao Sect, dealing them grievous injuries.

Gui Water Sect waylaid Purple Mist Sect, inflicting heavy losses.

During the chaotic clashes, other sects resorted to all sorts of murders as well.

Yet their primary "enemy" was none other than Mo Hua, this very "leader."

Nearly every sect genius gathered here, particularly the supreme heavenly talents, had "died" at least once by Mo Hua's hand.

Some had even "died" several times over.

Circumstances forced them to submit to Mo Hua on the surface, though inwardly they bristled with reluctance.

Outward compliance masked inner rebellion.

At the same time, the Evil Path Great Formation ceaselessly fueled their malevolent thoughts, hatred, and murderous impulses.

Mo Hua's surging strength, however, left them too intimidated to voice dissent.

Still, squabbles among themselves proved unavoidable, rife with constant bickering and sporadic scuffles.

Ye Zhiyuan proved the most disruptive of them all.

Ye Zhiyuan, formerly Daluo Sect's premier sword control genius, brimmed with talent yet oozed arrogance and a venomous tongue, alienating everyone he encountered and forging bitter enmities.

Now, amid the mingled crowds from Four Sects, Eight Gates, and Twelve Streams, his sharp tongue ran unchecked—sneering at one sect's feeble sword arts, scorning another's shallow legacy—as though his Daluo Flying Sword Control stood unrivaled across the world.

His barbs riled the group, stoking tempers into nonstop quarrels.

Even certain Taixu Gate disciples fell under the influence.

Ye Zhiyuan's vicious mouth and brazen impudence ensured no one could verbally overpower him.

Mo Hua turned to Ye Zhiyuan and remarked:

"Ye Zhiyuan, does your father know your sword control falls short in distance? Is that why he gave you that name, wishing your sword would soar farther?"

These words left Ye Zhiyuan utterly dumbfounded on the spot.

The once overbearing Ye Zhiyuan went quiet, as though choking on a fly, bereft of retort.

Though Ye Zhiyuan hushed, the assembly remained turbulent. Hundreds clustered with clashing agendas made clashes inevitable, after all.

Mo Hua declared coldly: "Don't claim I failed to warn you—we sit within the Evil Path Great Formation."

"All of you, stay silent, purify your thoughts and focus, cease idle chatter, and avoid accusing or begrudging one another or dredging up past feuds."

"Trouble springs from the mouth."

"Reckless speech amplifies the evil in your own heart and plants hatred in others'."

"Such things breed evil notions, karmic flames, and baleful repercussions."

"Over time, discord festers in your hearts, hatred multiplies, killing intent surges, minds destabilize, plunging you into frenzy and bloodthirst within the Evil Path Great Formation, gradually descending into evil demons..."

"Never dismiss words as harmless—they often spark catastrophe..."

The Evil Path Great Formation ignites through spoken words.

Planting Devil in Taoist Heart likewise sows words as devil seeds.

These deceptively commonplace yet insidiously profound techniques escaped the notice of these heaven-proud disciples.

Mo Hua's voice carried grave severity.

The prodigies of Four Sects, Eight Gates, and Twelve Streams felt a chill grip their hearts at his words, grasping the dire peril.

"One more matter..." Mo Hua cautioned, "Refrain from nursing killing intent toward me lightly."

"No matter how faint, I detect your killing intent."

"Harboring it means little, but heed my advice: never move against me with it, lest you be the ones to perish."

Mo Hua's gaze swept calmly across the throng.

Numerous heads bowed, shunning Mo Hua's piercing eyes.

Mo Hua gave a faint nod, "And finally..."

"Don't mistake me for some noble soul bent on sentimentally guiding you free."

"Obey and cooperate, and we escape alive."

"Defy me, and your fate concerns me not."

"Furthermore, should disobedience lead any to fall prey to evil spirits and 'demonize,' blame not my ruthlessness..."

"Do you truly crave descent into evil demonhood?"

The prodigies paled in unison.

"Evil demon" especially struck terror into them.

Recently, they'd beheld their former comrades abruptly sprout bloodshot eyes, contort their faces, exhale savagely, turn berserk and cannibalistic, ripping into human flesh like wild beasts right before their eyes...

This spectacle utterly demolished their worldview.

In the heat of prior massacres, evil thoughts clouded their minds, leaving little room for reflection. Now, in calmer moments, deep contemplation sent shivers through them, backs slick with cold sweat.

"Possession" was no trifling matter.

Once corrupted into an evil demon, their futures lay in ruins.

They'd tumble from radiant prospects as righteous Qianxue geniuses to a single misstep into the abyss—brother-slayers, flesh-devourers, shunned by sects, kin, and elders, reviled as loathsome demon path vermin.

And such doom loomed just one step hence.

This realization drenched them all in cold sweat.

A bewildered voice piped up:

"Why did we go from fine to suddenly... possessed? Could it be... the Evil Path Great Formation?"