Tai Xu Sect.
Mo Hua had just returned to the disciples' quarters when an elder from Tai'a Mountain personally arrived, delivering a formation diagram.
"Tai'a Mountain-Opening Sword Formation Diagram."
Mo Hua was overjoyed and couldn't help but admire the decisiveness of the Tai'a Sect Master. A true sect master, indeed—when he says he'll give something, he delivers without hesitation, even bringing it right to the doorstep.
Receiving it with great respect, Mo Hua sincerely bowed in gratitude:
"Thank you, Elder! And thanks to the Sect Master as well!"
The Tai'a Elder smiled and nodded before exchanging a few pleasantries and taking his leave.
After the elder departed, Mo Hua shut the door, burned incense, washed his hands, and eagerly unfolded the Tai'a Sword Formation Diagram.
As soon as his eyes landed on the formation, the ancient and intricate sword patterns exuded an overwhelming aura of grand and imposing sword intent.
With a single glance, he took in all the sword patterns, feeling an even greater sense of joy.
A Second-Grade, Nineteen-Pattern Sword Formation.
Apart from absolute formations, this was nearly the highest-tier sword formation within the second-grade classification.
The Tai'a Sect Master was even more generous than Mo Hua had expected.
In truth, Mo Hua had obtained a version of the Tai'a Mountain-Opening Sword Formation long ago—by "extorting" it from Sword Bones.
Sword Bones was once a disciple of the Tai'a Sect but had strayed deep into the Demonic Refining Mountain, where he was captured by demon cultivators and forced into servitude within the Myriad Demons Valley, crafting demonic swords for them daily.
His inherited knowledge included some of Tai'a Sect's sword-forging techniques, including its sword formations.
Mo Hua had already studied the Mountain-Opening Sword Formation before.
This was not something he could keep hidden forever.
The reason he had asked the Tai'a Sect Master for the sword formation was actually just to legitimize his knowledge.
All the sword formations he currently possessed were ones he couldn't openly display.
Especially the Tai'a Mountain sword formations.
Sect inheritance rules were strict.
If his knowledge of these formations were to be exposed without prior notice, it would certainly cause huge trouble.
After all, learning a sect's techniques without permission was considered theft of inheritance.
Even though the Three Sects had merged, such a thing would still be disgraceful.
If he put himself in the Tai'a Sect Master's shoes, even if the master didn't voice any objections, he would surely hold resentment and mark Mo Hua down for it.
Thus, since an opportunity presented itself, he decided to use the upcoming Sword Conference as an excuse to "borrow" the Tai'a Sword Formation from the Sect Master.
With this, his learning of the formation would be officially recognized.
That way, in the future, if he showcased the Tai'a Sword Formation in battle, instead of blaming him, the Sect Master might even take pride in his mastery and praise his skills.
Understanding human relationships is an art.
In many cases, face and appearances are all that matter.
Moreover, the formation the Tai'a Sect Master had gifted him was of a higher grade than the one he had extorted from Sword Bones.
Not only was its structure complete and its formation patterns precise, but the sword energy flowing through the patterns was also exceptionally rich.
Even the number of formation patterns had increased by four.
An unexpected boon.
This sword formation could now be used openly, under the scrutiny of the public.
Most importantly, his God-Slaying Sword had already incorporated the Five-Element Sword Formation.
Now, with this higher-level Tai'a Sword Formation, the power of his God-Slaying Sword would only grow further.
A triple win.
Mo Hua then set aside some time to study this more orthodox and profound Tai'a Sword Formation.
Thanks to the foundation laid by Sword Bones' formation,
when he integrated the Tai'a Sword Formation into the God-Slaying Sword,
he gained deeper insights into the laws of swordsmanship.
Thus, he mastered it swiftly.
In just two hours, he had grasped it thoroughly.
Then, he practiced it on the Dao Monument more than ten times until he was confident.
Finally, Mo Hua withdrew from his Sea of Consciousness, carefully selected a high-quality spiritual sword from his storage pouch, and meticulously engraved the Second-Grade, Nineteen-Pattern Tai'a Mountain-Opening Sword Formation onto it.
Once he finished, he sealed the sword's body.
Thus, a true "Mountain-Opening Sword" was complete.
As Mo Hua stroked the blade, he muttered to himself:
"The so-called flying sword genius of Da Luo Sect, who is ranked alongside Xiaoxiao as one of the two great sword prodigies of the Eight Great Sects..."
"How absurd."
"That Ye Zhi Yuan—what caliber, what vision does he even have? How is he worthy of being mentioned in the same breath as Xiaoxiao?"
"Tomorrow, with a single sword strike, I'll put him in his place."
"The number one sword prodigy of the Eight Great Sects— can only be my junior brother, Xiaoxiao."
...
The next day, at the Sword Conference.
Outside Dao Discussion Mountain, the spectator seats were packed with people, forming a sea of heads.
This Sword Conference had drawn an unprecedented level of attention in the history of the Earth-ranked Sword Discussions.
Not only was there the infuriating Mo Hua,
but also the two great sword prodigies of the Eight Great Sects.
There were Da Luo Sect's Flying Sword Mastery and the True Sword Dissolution Technique—two top-tier sword arts.
And there was also the contest for the top rank among the Eight Great Sects.
This was bound to be a brutal, bloody, and drawn-out battle.
Both sides would undoubtedly fight until their last breath, a true life-and-death struggle.
There was absolutely no reason to miss such a sword duel.
Everyone was eagerly waiting.
Among the crowd, a scholar-like cultivator with fair skin and a refined demeanor was chatting enthusiastically with others.
His words were eloquent, his knowledge vast, and he effortlessly referenced various sect histories, making for a lively and engaging discussion.
Regular attendees of the Sword Conference all knew this man's name:
Bai Xiaosheng.
Bai Xiaosheng was in high spirits when he suddenly felt someone tugging at his sleeve.
Turning his head, he saw a fifteen- or sixteen-year-old boy with delicate features, dressed as a bookboy.
His excitement immediately dampened.
The bookboy gestured toward the side.
Bai Xiaosheng sighed reluctantly and clasped his hands toward the others.
"Everyone, please wait a moment. I'll be right back."
With that, he followed the bookboy to the side and asked,
"What are you doing here?"
The bookboy's voice was crisp.
"Master, if you don't go upstairs soon, the Patriarchs will get angry."
"I'm not going," Bai Xiaosheng sneered. "What's the point of being up there? Looking down from high above, the entire world appears as mere ants, with faces too distant to even discern. What fun is there in that? I'm not going, not going..."
"Master, not this again..." The bookboy looked troubled.
Bai Xiaosheng replied, "You don't understand. This is the Sword Conference. You have to be in the crowd, watching together, yelling together, and even cursing together—that's what makes it fun."
"This is called the Way of the Hundred Schools. You observe the true nature of all beings. You'll understand one day."
The bookboy said, "I don't know anything about the Way of the Hundred Schools or the true nature of all beings. I just know that the Patriarchs said you have no manners when sitting, none when standing, and if you keep being disrespectful, they'll make sure your face matches."
Bai Xiaosheng's eyes narrowed. "Is that how you talk to your master?"
The bookboy looked aggrieved. "It's not me saying it—it's the Patriarchs. They told me to relay the message to remind you."
Bai Xiaosheng waved a hand dismissively. "I don't care about them. Each one is as cold as ice, completely devoid of human warmth. Being around them makes me sick."
"Master, mind your words. The Patriarchs can hear you."
"So what if they do?" Bai Xiaosheng sneered, though his bravado weakened slightly.
The bookboy hesitated before suggesting, "Well… if you won't see the Patriarchs, you should at least pay respects to Uncle-Patriarch. He is the Sect Master now..."
Bai Xiaosheng shook his head. "No, I'm not going."
"Are you sure? Uncle-Patriarch is a kind person..."
"Not going."
The bookboy grew curious. "Is it that you don't want to see him, or that you don't want to call him 'Granduncle'?"
Bai Xiaosheng's face darkened. He reached out and pinched the bookboy's mouth. "One day, I'll sew that little mouth of yours shut."
The bookboy let out muffled protests.
Only then did Bai Xiaosheng let him go.
The bookboy rubbed his cheek and grumbled, "Fine, fine, don't go then..."
"I'll just go back and report to the Patriarchs that you're busy… cultivating the Way of the Hundred Schools and contemplating the nature of all beings..."
Bai Xiaosheng nodded in satisfaction.
The bookboy took a few steps away before turning back with a final warning:
"Master, remember to talk less and criticize less—especially don't badmouth Uncle-Patriarch's sect. Watch your words, or you might offend someone you shouldn't."
Bai Xiaosheng waved him off impatiently. "Alright, alright, I know what I'm doing. Keep nagging, and I really will sew your mouth shut."
The bookboy pouted, grumbled under his breath, and walked off.
A few steps later, his figure blurred and vanished without a trace.
From beginning to end, no one had paid him any attention.
Once the bookboy left, Bai Xiaosheng looked as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.
Eagerly, he dove back into the crowd.
From afar, he carried the air of a cultured and refined scholar.
But once he mingled with the crowd, he immediately took on the demeanor of a common rogue cultivator—
blending in seamlessly, chatting animatedly with a group of Foundation Establishment cultivators:
"I'm telling you, Tai Xu Sect is useless."
"Their Sect Master—I won't even talk about him. But their elders and disciples? Completely undisciplined, nothing like a proper great sect should be."
"Their sword inheritance has declined. Their current swordsmanship isn't even worth mentioning."
"And that Mo Hua…"
"A formation master using formations to get by in the Sword Conference—what a joke!"
"Today, Da Luo Sect will teach him what real swordsmanship is, what a true Sword Conference is."
"The heritage of Da Luo Sect is no joke. If you trace it back, it comes from the ancient 'Da Luo Sword Sect'—its origins are terrifying."
"Especially the Da Luo Flying Sword Technique. The meaning behind 'Flying Sword'—you all don't understand."
"I know some inside information, but I can't say too much..."
Bai Xiaosheng spoke with absolute confidence.
"Mark my words, Tai Xu Sect will lose today."
"And that Mo Hua—he's dead for sure."
"Don't believe me? Just wait and see..."
...
Among the crowd, spectators chattered excitedly.
Amidst the crowd, onlookers engaged in heated discussions.
On the other side, Zhang Lan, Wenren Wan, Gu Changhuai, Yu'er, Murong Caiyun, Hua Qianqian, and others silently watched the Fang Tian Shadow Formation, their expressions heavy with concern.
They were all focused on this round of the sword tournament.
And they were also quietly worried about Mo Hua, who was participating in the duel.
...
Above the crowd, within the Sword Observation Tower—
Compared to previous tournaments, the number of "distinguished guests" had noticeably increased.
Inside a lavishly decorated chamber, adorned with embroidered silk carpets and exuding an air of luxury—
A woman in a resplendent Hundred Flowers Robe, dignified and breathtakingly beautiful, sat at the table. Her gaze passed beyond the window, fixing upon the Fang Tian Shadow Formation.
On the formation's surface, a handsome young man was making his final preparations before the battle.
The Mistress of Hundred Flowers Valley furrowed her elegant brows.
He does seem a little similar…
A genius in array formations, just like that person. His eyes also carried a trace of transcendent, otherworldly grace.
Likewise, he was shrouded in controversy and hated by many.
Many admired him, but even more despised him.
But upon deeper thought, they were completely different.
His spiritual roots were too weak. He had never practiced swordsmanship.
His mastery of formations was exceptional, but the approach was different.
His personality was too easygoing, even endearing—treating his fellow disciples as siblings, cherished by the elders, even spoiled by the grand ancestor.
He was resented, yes, but not for his talent. Instead, it was because of his occasional mischief.
All of this was unlike that person—who was as sharp as an immortal sword, untainted by the mundane world, with an aura that cut through everything.
Lost in thought, the Mistress of Hundred Flowers Valley became slightly dazed.
At that moment, a soft chuckle broke the silence.
"Sister, what are you thinking about?"
The Mistress of Hundred Flowers Valley turned back and smiled faintly. "Just reminiscing about the past."
A woman dressed in golden robes, her complexion smooth as jade, with naturally noble and commanding grace, gently linked arms with her and playfully chided:
"You're so heartless—you never think to visit me in Daozhou."
Beside her, two other young women, equally dressed in opulent robes, nodded in agreement.
"Exactly, exactly."
"It's been decades since we last met, and not a single letter from Sister Hua. Clearly, you don't care about us."
The Mistress of Hundred Flowers Valley sighed helplessly. "The sect affairs keep me too busy."
"Liar."
"It's just Hundred Flowers Valley—why would it take up so much of your time?"
"Exactly…"
"If you ask me, you should just abandon it and enjoy your freedom…"
"Alright, enough." The golden-robed woman interrupted with a smile. "You two have leisure in your blood, stop pestering Sister Hua."
Then, she gently took the Mistress of Hundred Flowers Valley's fair hand and spoke softly:
"I know you have your reservations, and I know you are busy. But when you have time, you must return to Daozhou."
"Even if you don't come to see us sisters, at least visit the Grand Matron."
"The Grand Matron always favored you. She often speaks of you—don't let her be disappointed…"
A look of guilt flashed across the Mistress of Hundred Flowers Valley's face, and she gave a slight nod.
Only then did the golden-robed woman smile in satisfaction.
...
In the Qianxue Prefecture, where aristocratic families flourished, the ties of bloodlines were intricate and tangled.
Like the gnarled roots of ancient trees, twisting in endless complexity.
To outsiders, the network of relationships was impenetrable—
No one knew who was married into whose family.
Who was secretly related to whom.
Or who shared the same grand ancestor.
Who shares the same ancestor with whom?
...
Meanwhile, two floors below this Sword Observation Chamber-- Sat the leaders of the Four Great Sects.
Beneath the Sword Observation Chamber, two floors lower—
There sat the sect masters of the Four Great Sects.
Further below were the leaders of the Eight Major Schools, followed by the sect masters of the remaining Twelve Minor Sects.
Meanwhile, the sect masters of the Three Mountains—Taixu, Ta'a, and Chongxu—were still gathered in an old room, drinking tea.
The room was quiet, heavy with an oppressive atmosphere.
None of the three spoke.
Watching the sword duel earlier had made them a little nervous.
But this match—deciding the leader of the Eight Major Schools—was pure torment.
And incredibly nerve-wracking.
The only one slightly at ease was the sect master of Ta'a.
He broke the silence, saying, "I spoke with Mo Hua."
As soon as he said this, the Taixu sect master frowned in displeasure. "Before a sword duel, do not disturb the disciples."
"I gave him the Ta'a Sword Formation," the Ta'a sect master replied.
At this, the Taixu sect master said no more.
Giving something did not count as a disturbance.
However, he was a little surprised. "You're really willing to part with that…?"
After all, this was a sword formation.
The Ta'a sect master said, "Mo Hua told me that with this sword formation, the sword duel would be 'slightly' easier."
"The importance of this duel—I don't need to explain it."
"As long as it helps, even if it only makes the duel a 'little' easier, it's worth it."
The Taixu and Chongxu sect masters both nodded in agreement.
"You should've told me earlier. I would've given him a sword formation from Chongxu Mountain as well."
"The sword formations of Chongxu Mountain aren't as good. If it's about sword forging, Ta'a is superior. You should give him a sword technique instead…"
"My sword techniques are useless to him. That kid Mo Hua doesn't even study swordsmanship…"
"Taixu Mountain also doesn't emphasize sword techniques…"
The Taixu sect master frowned, correcting, "It's not that we don't emphasize it. The swordsmanship of Taixu Mountain focuses on sword intent—something only comprehensible after reaching the Golden Core stage."
"Once comprehended, its power is unfathomable."
"And that helps how?"
"This is a Foundation Establishment sword duel. Why bring up Golden Core matters?"
"Besides, the sword intent techniques left behind in Taixu Mountain are nowhere near what they used to be. Do you even have anything worth showing now?"
"Well… The ancestor is working on a solution…"
"And what kind of solution could there be?"
"That… I can't say yet…"
"Fine. When there's a chance, let us see for ourselves and broaden our horizons…"
…
As they chatted, silence soon settled again.
The atmosphere grew even heavier.
The Ta'a sect master suddenly slapped his forehead. "Wait, what about our tea? Weren't we drinking tea?"
The Chongxu sect master frowned. "I have no mood to drink."
"Have some. It'll calm you."
"The duel is about to begin."
The Ta'a sect master sighed. "This sword duel will be a long one. Without a fight to the death, there won't be a decisive winner."
"The Da Luo Sect is not easy to deal with."
"And then there's that Ye Zhi Yuan… And that Da Luo Flying Sword Art…"
At these words, the three of them all felt a headache coming on.
"Have some tea. Steady your mind."
The Taixu elder took out a finely crafted tea kettle, poured in premium spring water, added fresh green tea leaves, and began brewing.
Yet all three of them remained fixated on the duel ahead.
At this moment, every pair of eyes was locked onto the Fang Tian Painted Shadow Arena, anticipating this battle that would determine the leader of the Eight Major Schools.
No one knew how long the duel would last.
No one knew what kind of brutal clashes would unfold.
No one knew what the final outcome would be…
Soon, the Dao Discourse Bell rang.
The sword duel began.
The disciples from both sides entered the arena.
This was a decapitation match—victory required slaying the opposing team's "leader."
The "leader" of Da Luo Sect was their strongest and most skilled swordsman—Ye Zhi Yuan.
The "leader" of Taixu Sect, however, was different from before—this time, they had chosen Linghu Xiao.
It was clear that Taixu Sect understood this was no ordinary duel.
They dared not take any risks.
They would not let Mo Hua, who was as fragile as shattering glass and could be killed in a single strike, serve as the "leader" again.
Ye Zhi Yuan sneered.
"Do you think that by not being the leader, I won't kill you?"
This duel—he would not only win, not only decapitate Linghu Xiao—
More importantly, he would kill Mo Hua.
Killing Mo Hua would make him the "Alliance Leader."
To him, this position was just as valuable as being the head of the Eight Major Schools.
He was arrogant and disregarded everyone, but he was no fool.
A faction that united Eight Major Schools, Twelve Minor Sects, and even some elite disciples from the Four Great Sects—
The weight and power of such an organization were obvious even without thinking.
Until now, no one had ever displayed such charisma and cohesion to unite so many top-tier geniuses under one banner.
The leader of such an alliance of geniuses—even if only in name, with little real power—was still a position of immense significance.
And this was just the beginning.
This so-called alliance was founded on the goal of killing Mo Hua and was still loosely structured.
But once he became its leader, he could gradually and subtly change its purpose—turning the alliance into his own personal force.
As for Mo Hua?
Who cared?
He was just a pawn—a lightning rod for hatred, a mere pretext to rally people together.
The so-called geniuses of the Four Sects and Eight Schools were blinded by hatred, making "killing Mo Hua" their mission.
But people controlled by hatred lacked true vision.
So this alliance needed a true leader—himself.
Only he, who didn't take Mo Hua seriously but could still kill him, had the capacity to lead.
Ye Zhi Yuan ran his fingers along his sword—the Da Luo Sword, linked to his mind—his gaze sharp.
In a cold voice, he ordered:
"Stick to the plan—Kill!"
"Yes!"
The disciples of Da Luo Sect activated their movement techniques, dashing forward like sharp blades, swiftly closing in on the five Taixu Sect disciples.
Soon, both sides clashed.
The slaughter began.
Four Da Luo disciples surrounded Linghu Xiao, striking in unison.
Ye Zhi Yuan stood at a distance, controlling the Da Luo Sword, channeling his Sword Control Technique, and lifting his flying sword, preparing to decapitate Linghu Xiao from afar.
The greatest advantage of Sword Control Techniques was range.
Then speed.
Then power.
Long-range flying swords struck at blinding speed, carrying immense sword energy—
In the blink of an eye, they could take a life.
Among all the disciples of the Qianxue Sect, some had stronger sword energy than Ye Zhi Yuan—
But none could match him in sword control.
That was why he was the number one "Sword Control" genius of Qianxue.
This was a gift from the heavens.
A talent unparalleled in swordsmanship.
And he would make full use of it.
.
.
So, he was the number one "sword-controlling" genius of Qianxue.
This was a talent bestowed by the heavens.
A natural gift for the sword.
Of course, it had to be used well.
Ye Zhiyuan stood at a great distance, activating the Daluo Soaring Sword Control Technique, pretending to aim for Linghu Xiao, while secretly locking onto Mo Hua with his divine sense.
Very quickly, he found Mo Hua.
Mo Hua, like him, was also standing far away, completely still.
Ye Zhiyuan sneered inwardly, mocking him:
"Idiot. I'm standing still to control my sword. Are you standing still just to wait for death?"
Sword control was a deadly art, where life and death were decided in an instant.
Opportunities came and went in a flash.
Since Mo Hua had given him an opening, Ye Zhiyuan naturally wouldn't let it slip.
His sword was far, fast, and strong.
Feigning an attack on Linghu Xiao, he would suddenly switch targets and launch a surprise kill at Mo Hua.
Mo Hua wouldn't expect it. No matter what stealth techniques or movement skills he had, it would be too late.
He would die for sure!
Ye Zhiyuan continued controlling his sword, his gaze fixed on Linghu Xiao, while his divine sense secretly locked onto Mo Hua.
His sword had yet to strike.
But in the next moment, he suddenly noticed something flying toward him from afar.
Ye Zhiyuan was stunned.
What the hell… is flying at me?
The object moved just as far, just as fast—and carried a faintly dangerous gleam.
Ye Zhiyuan's eyes couldn't immediately identify it.
But deep inside, an instinctive shock surged:
A sword?
A flying sword?!
What the hell—someone is controlling a flying sword to kill me?!
"Save me!"
Ye Zhiyuan barely had time to shout.
He had deliberately distanced himself, choosing a safe position, fully focused on sword control—this was the worst time for him to be ambushed.
The other disciples of the Daluo Sect also noticed something was wrong and rushed ahead of him to intercept the flying sword.
They wanted to block the sword for Ye Zhiyuan.
But it was too fast, completely unexpected—they couldn't stop it.
Not only them—no one had anticipated that a sword would suddenly fly out from the Taixu Sect's ranks.
The flying sword pierced through the blockade of four Daluo disciples, striking Ye Zhiyuan squarely in the chest.
But—it was stopped by his Daoist robe.
Ye Zhiyuan was scared out of his wits.
Yet the sword carried no sword energy. It couldn't even pierce his robe.
Ye Zhiyuan exhaled in relief, cursing under his breath:
"What kind of bullshit is this? You call this a flying sword? No sword energy at all? How do you expect to kill me?"
In the next instant, the spirit sword trembled violently, its sword patterns glowing bright.
Inside the sword, the sword formation absorbed spiritual stones, activating automatically—instantly generating an overwhelmingly sharp Mountain-Splitting Sword Qi.
The sword qi accumulated, growing stronger and stronger, exceeding even the sword's own limits.
Cracks began appearing on the blade.
Then, under Ye Zhiyuan's incomprehensible and utterly terrified gaze—
The spirit sword exploded.
The explosion fused with the surging sword qi, detonating with a thunderous roar.
The razor-sharp Mountain-Splitting Sword Qi erupted outward, forming a vortex centered on the sword formation.
It was like an array of colossal swords, slaughtering everything in its path.
Mountains, rocks, trees—everything around was shredded into dust.
Before anyone could even process what had happened—
The Dao Discussion Bell tolled.
The sword duel—was over.
One sword.
Only one sword.
And the match had ended.
On Dao Discussion Mountain, an eerie silence fell.
Everyone was in utter, speechless shock.
Then, all at once—"BOOM!"
The mountain erupted in deafening noise.
The crowd went wild, an uproar like a volcanic eruption—
Dao Discussion Mountain exploded with chaos!
(End of this Chapter)