Chapter 338: The Rule

Mo Hua's heart trembled, then he slowly furrowed his brows:

"If this rule holds, does it mean that within a realm, cultivators can never oppose Great Demons?"

High-level cultivators cannot intervene; low-level ones are powerless to resist.

Against a powerful cultivator like the Qian family's Patriarch, one could still rely on numbers and unity to subdue him.

But against a Great Demon like Feng Xi, numbers mean nothing—it drains your blood qi, eats you, then replenishes itself.

The more people there are, the stronger the Great Demon may become.

Zhang Lan let out a long sigh and said:

"'Within a realm, Great Demons are invincible'—this is essentially the cultivation world's consensus; otherwise, the Dao Court would not have proposed relocating the city. It's truly a helpless measure."

"But Great Demons must die eventually," Mo Hua said.

Zhang Nan nodded. "Naturally. All things under heaven are born and die. Great Demons, no matter how strong, are still demons—not immortals. They must die."

"Is that… an array?"

Mo Hua's spirit reeled; he couldn't help crying out:

"From the smallest array…" Mo Hua, dazed, murmured, "This isn't…?"

…

"Was it a strange Daoist?"

In the two thousand years of Zhifeng, extraordinary talents were few, yet other cultivators weren't fools—it's impossible he thought of it and others didn't.

Mr. Zhuang exhaled slowly.

But Mo Hua's doubts hadn't lessened; they had grown.

"Families and sects capable of subduing and killing Great Demons have all endured for a thousand or even ten thousand years, with deep roots. Their disciples are weak, yet they rely on powerful sect-protection arrays to subdue Great Demons… even so, they suffer grievous spiritual injuries and pay an excruciating price."

"Don't even think about it. Forget that Daoist."

"Disasters and calamities that defy the Dao are collectively called Dao Nai."

Mo Hua frowned, pondering for a moment, then suddenly his heart leapt—he exclaimed:

"How do ordinary Great Demons usually die?" Mo Hua asked again.

"Good! Mr. Zhuang."

Mo Hua wanted to ask why, but seeing Mr. Zhuang's solemn expression—something he'd never seen before—he nodded in agreement:

Regarding matters like sect coordination, Sizhou demarcation, and cosmic order, Zhang Lan couldn't answer—and he wouldn't dare fabricate nonsense.

He wanted to understand this matter.

"Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two; Two gives birth to Three; Three gives birth to all things. Great Demons are fine, Dingpin is fine—all are manifestations of the Great Dao."

"Besides, such matters are inherently not rare—even in the archives of noble families and the Dao Court, similar records are countless."

"The Dao maintains balance; Sizhou is divided—only then does Dingpin exist."

Above, eight chi lies the azure sky—it turns out, that sky is the most powerful array in the world.

"Don't think about it," Zhang Lan guessed Mo Hua's thoughts and quashed them:

"What do you want to know?" Mr. Zhuang glanced at Mo Hua.

"What is the Dao's rule?" Mr. Zhuang asked.

"Fine," Mo Hua said, disappointed.

Mo Hua, tongue-tied, fired off a barrage of questions.

Mo Hua's heart was stunned beyond words; he remained silent for a long time.

"And Great Demons are one form of Dao Nai."

"Unless a Great Demon appears on our sect's land or threatens our Dao lineage directly, we have no choice—but even then, we wouldn't dare recklessly pursue their extermination."

"Could it be… an array?!"

Mo Hua guessed it, but still couldn't understand.

After all, he killed two hundred eighty-year-old men, refined two hundred young lives into Life-Span Pills, and nurtured a hundred young souls into Soul-Transferring Essence Pills—how many killing karmas had he accumulated?

"Correct," Mr. Zhuang nodded, his gaze profound. "And it's not just any array—it's a great array, the most powerful array known in this world!"

Mr. Zhuang pointed upward; Mo Hua involuntarily looked up—the sky stretched vast and boundless, clouds churned endlessly, mysterious and infinite.

The concept of state demarcation and Dingpin would become meaningless.

Every possible solution has been thought of; every possible method has been tried.

"That region of Tong Xiancheng has no sect or force with such depth."

"Is there truly no solution to the Great Demon problem?"

Mo Hua's expression turned solemn; he nodded gravely.

Zhang Lan could only reply honestly: "Even I don't know…"

"A Great Demon is one form of Dao Nai. Cultivators defy heaven; they violate cosmic order, and thus spawn calamities."

"Coordinated subjugation and killing?" Mo Hua's expression shifted.

"What is the Dao's rule that erases them? What rule? How exactly are they erased?"

In other words, there is no solution.

Three is not something Mo Hua now clearly understands about Dao cultivation—even in arrays, he knows far less than I do. I could babble nonsense, and he'd easily spot the flaws.

"Mr. Zhuang, why do Great Demons exist? Why is Dingpin assigned to state boundaries?"

"Why must sects assign Dingpin to state boundaries?"

"Before the Dao, cultivators are truly insignificant. A cultivator spends his life seeking the Dao, yet the more he seeks, the more he realizes how profound and unfathomable the Great Dao is—beyond human comprehension. The Dao's anomalies and calamities are beyond human resistance."

Zhang Lan felt his scalp go numb.

Zhifeng spoke with concise precision.

Mo Hua said truthfully, "The demonic cultivation technique and the pill formula for transferring lifespan into primordial Qi both came from a Daoist—but you know, when we say 'Daoist,' we mean the same person."

Mo Hua nodded.

One is that it would mislead disciples and cause Mo Hua's understanding of the Dao to become erroneous.

But since Mr. Zhuang had mentioned it, I too had thought about it, and turned to ask him another question:

Mo Hua looked up at the sky, deeply feeling his own greatness and the boundlessness of formation art.

Mr. Zhuang's expression turned serious as he looked at Mo Hua and said:

Originally, the weakest formation in this world had always hung beneath the heavens, covering every inch of the cultivation realm, concealing every cultivator.

"The Qian family's ancestral elder hasn't even reached the level of a young pill alchemist—we've all mentioned the same Daoist."

"So this pig became a Wu Xiaoyao because of what the Qian family's ancestral elder did, thought, and intended—acts that offended Heaven and harmed the Dao, thus giving birth to a Daoic corruption within the pig demon's body?"

Then Mo Hua thought again and hurriedly said:

The next day, he went to visit Mr. Zhuang.

"That small Daoic karmic thread, I can't tell you—but you must remember not to speak of it to others, or disaster will come upon you."

Mo Hua's expression hardened, and he nodded.

"Mr. Zhuang, what exactly is this State Boundary grading?"

Mo Hua organized his thoughts and continued:

But in truth, there was nothing to debate—it was just that in the end, everyone had no choice but to make that decision.

After all, once the city is relocated, people are uprooted from their homeland, wandering and destitute, with no clear future.

"On what basis is the grading determined?"

Zhang Lan, though born into a prominent family, was still only a Qi Condensation cultivator; not knowing was understandable.

What kind of cosmic-scale feat could that be…

To know what you know, and to know what you don't know—that is true knowledge.

Mo Hua looked astonished, "You know?"

"But… where are there no formations?"

Mr. Zhuang fell silent for a long while before saying:

Mo Hua froze, muttering loudly, "Then how do you know…"

When did you know? Why didn't you tell me…

"'Daoic corruption' is an internal term used by the Sect's Celestial Observatory; it is never mentioned outside. The Sect considers itself entrusted by Heaven and aligned with the Dao—if Daoic corruption exists, then the Sect must be guilty, having violated the Dao."

Mr. Zhuang shook his head slightly. "He knows."

Mo Hua felt unwillingness, yet also confusion.

Mr. Zhuang nodded slightly. "In simple terms, yes—but in truth, someone else is already meddling here, and he doesn't yet realize it."

Zhang Lan thought for a moment and replied:

"What does the Sect rely on to assign grades?" Mr. Zhuang asked in return.

"Why assign State Boundary grades at all? Without them, wouldn't low-level cultivators still be able to suppress Wu Xiaoyao?"

"Why isn't our State Boundary a seventh-grade one?"

Mo Hua frowned, pondering deeply.

Mr. Zhuang glanced at Mo Hua silently. "Do you want to know?"

But Mo Hua still couldn't let go:

Zhai Fenfeng nodded. "Correct."

"Following the Dao, if calamitous corruptions arise, then Wu Xiaoyao are born;"

Mo Hua exclaimed, "Then we can only relocate the city?"

Mo Hua felt disappointed.

Mr. Zhuang nodded. "The primordial great formation—that's the legendary Immortal-grade formation!"

"Some starved to death after devouring an entire realm's cultivators; some died of old age after living for thousands of years; some were erased by Daoic laws after breaking through the realm recklessly; others were jointly suppressed and killed by their families and sects…"

Letting go of pride is fine.

Mo Hua had never seen anyone who could make Zhai Fenfeng so wary.

Mo Hua thought for a moment and said, "Erased by Daoic laws?"

"All things in the world originate from the Dao."

Because if there were no forceful erasure by Daoic laws, then even if cultivators acted according to State Boundary grades, it would make no difference.

"That day—it was a formation!" Zhai Fenfeng said solemnly.

Zhang Lan patted his shoulder:

Once a person starts, questions multiply; once questions multiply, they become a headache.

Zhang Lan sighed. "In a few more days, Zhai Fen's office will deliberate again—if nothing else works, we'll have to move south to the barbaric wastes."

"If there were no grading, and no cultivation restrictions, Zhai Fen couldn't dispatch low-level cultivators to suppress Wu Xiaoyao, and the people within the State Boundary would be slaughtered."

Mr. Zhuang sighed slightly and spoke:

Zhai Fenfeng froze, his gaze gradually sharpening. "Who told you that?"

Mr. Zhuang then explained further to him:

So, being too foolish isn't necessarily a bad thing.

But Mr. Zhuang placed his hand on Mo Hua's shoulder, his expression grave:

"So this words leaves your mouth and enters my ear—do not let anyone else know. Especially the term 'Daoic corruption.'"