Chapter 612: The Sword of Divine Thought

It was afternoon, and bright sunlight shone upon the lush mountain forest.

A moss-covered stone staircase led up to the mountaintop.

Mo Hua walked briskly, his figure light and agile, ascending the mountain steps while humming a tune.

But when he reached the ruined temple, he froze.

"No one?"

The ruined temple was empty, no figures inside, and his divine sense detected no trace of the mountain god's presence.

Mo Hua stared closely and saw several steamed buns on the altar had gone sour, several fruits had dried out, left there for who knew how long.

There was no meat on the altar, only a single wine cup.

The cup was full, but it did not contain wine—it held rainwater trickling down from the eaves during a mountain shower, the surface clear, the bottom thick with dust and soil.

It looked desolate and bleak.

Mo Hua felt a pang of sympathy.

What a pitiful mountain god.

"Huang Shanjun?"

Mo Hua called out several times, but the ruined temple echoed with emptiness, wind whistling through the eaves, the mountains silent; his voice reverberated briefly, then vanished.

"Not at home?"

Mo Hua frowned, feeling a quiet melancholy—as if he had traveled ten thousand miles to visit a friend, only to find the friend was away.

"That doesn't make sense…"

He's a mountain god—where could he possibly go? Abandon his temple?

Mo Hua looked around, but the ruined temple was tiny, its walls crumbling; no matter how he searched, he saw no sign of Huang Shanjun.

Mo Hua narrowed his eyes, then suddenly felt something stir within him.

He sensed that the few strands of pale golden blood-marrow, refined from the bone marrow of Yangjiao Fengxing, the demon leader among the horde, had begun to tremble.

Mo Hua realized—he understood. Following the pull of the pale golden divine blood, he stepped out of the temple, circled around it, and found a small dog statue in the corner behind the wall.

The small dog statue was gray, dusty, its head drooping, crouched in the grass, giving off not a single trace of energy.

Mo Hua crouched before the dog statue, his large eyes silently watching it.

The dog statue did not dare to move.

"Hey—"

Mo Hua whispered.

For some reason, the clay eyes of the dog statue appeared uneasy.

"Mountain Lord—"

Mo Hua whispered again.

The clay dog statue wished it could shut its eyes.

"You're a mountain god, hiding inside a little dog statue—aren't you ashamed?" Mo Hua said.

The dog statue felt shame and fury, yet gave no reaction.

Mo Hua's expression darkened; he raised three fingers and spoke solemnly: "I'll count to three. If you don't come out, I won't be gentle…"

"Three…"

"Two…"

Before he could finish the third, smoke curled from the dog statue, and Huang Shanjun's long, smiling face materialized.

Seeing Mo Hua's unfriendly expression, Huang Shanjun smiled warmly and cheerfully:

"Oh my, who is it? It's my young friend! With nothing to do in the mountains, I was basking in the sun and accidentally fell asleep—forgive me for not greeting you properly!"

Mo Hua looked up at the sky and asked curiously:

"This place is in the shade—what sun are you basking in?"

Huang Shanjun choked, forcing a smile: "Shade-basking is warm and cool at the same time…"

Fearing Mo Hua would press further, it immediately changed the subject:

"Young friend, what brings you here?"

Mo Hua's attention was indeed diverted.

"Hmm." Mo Hua nodded, about to speak, then glanced at Huang Shanjun and asked curiously: "Are you going to stay inside this dog statue forever?"

Huang Shanjun inwardly grumbled: "Do you think I want to?"

"If it weren't for hiding…"

As soon as the thought crossed its mind, Huang Shanjun froze, then asked:

"How did you know I was 'hiding'… no, basking here?"

It had humbled itself beyond measure, abandoned all dignity, taking refuge in this tiny clay dog statue, even concealing its mountain god essence—and still it was found…

Mo Hua said: "I felt it."

"Felt it?"

"Yes," Mo Hua nodded. "I felt you were right here, so I came to look—and sure enough, you were here!"

Huang Shanjun felt a chill run down its scalp.

Done for—this little calamity couldn't be escaped…

This was ridiculous…

Clever demons weren't scary; the truly terrifying ones were clever and also uncanny.

No tricks at all—impossible to guard against…

Huang Shanjun sighed, slowly emerging from the clay dog statue, gesturing with an outstretched hand: "Please, come inside for a chat…"

Thus, the Mountain God led the way, and Mo Hua strolled behind him, entering the ruined temple.

Huang Shanjun dissolved into wisps of blue smoke, still dwelling within the clay statue of the Mountain God, centered upon the altar.

Mo Hua sat beside the altar, chatting with Huang Shanjun "shoulder to shoulder."

Yet Huang Shanjun seemed somewhat restrained, so Mo Hua asked in confusion:

"I won't 'eat' you—why are you so afraid?"

Huang Shanjun chuckled, thinking: "You think I believe that…"

But to his face, he still smiled warmly:

"Young friend, you are as bright as ice and clear as a mirror, unlike the vulgar crowd—I'm lucky to befriend you, how could I avoid you?"

Mo Hua naturally didn't believe it; he glanced at Huang Shanjun and asked curiously:

"Huang Shanjun, weren't you once very powerful?"

Huang Shanjun froze, his smile fading slightly. "How do you know?"

"I guessed."

Huang Shanjun shook his head. "Look at me now—do I look powerful?"

Mo Hua looked at Huang Shanjun, his gaze clear, his voice calm:

"Ten zhang tall, claws and fangs seven chi long, brown-brown fur, divine might obscuring mountains, aura thick and heavy, eyes steeped in blood, boundless ferocity and malice coiled around you…"

Huang Shanjun's eyes suddenly turned fierce, but upon meeting Mo Hua's deep gaze, his face instantly paled.

"You—you—what exactly…"

Mo Hua blinked, whispering:

"You really looked like that before?"

Huang Shanjun's expression turned bitter. "How do you know?"

Mo Hua said: "Last night I dreamed of a mountain god resembling a giant yellow weasel demon—I guessed it might be you, so I came to ask."

Huang Shanjun's expression grew complex; after much hesitation, he let out a long sigh:

"Those are all past matters…"

"Once, I indeed received worship across a region, my divine awareness vast, covering mountains and rivers, taking divine form, standing atop the realm under Heaven's laws, nearly invincible."

"But like humans, once a god grows arrogant, evil spirits creep in."

"What happened after—you already know… Sigh, I can't bear to recall it. Now I'm a tiger fallen to the plains…"

"…Bullied by others?" Mo Hua said.

Huang Shanjun nodded. "Yes…"

Mid-sentence, a chill ran through it, and it quickly laughed: "No, no—you never bullied me…"

Mo Hua thought for a moment, recalling the image of Huang Shanjun's former majestic, terrifying presence, then looked at its current, listless state—still finding it hard to believe.

Huang Shanjun seemed to sense what Mo Hua was thinking, and sighed:

"All beings in this world—human, demon, or god—are mostly puppets of power, fame, fortune, and status."

"Humans especially."

"A beggar who becomes an emperor, with power behind him, takes on the bearing of an emperor;"

"An emperor who becomes a beggar, stripped of power, can only beg and whimper."

"Those who truly transcend external things, unbound by power or fame, whose minds are extraordinary—these are as rare as phoenix feathers…"

"I, this mountain god, was no different."

"When my divine awareness was vast and my power boundless, I naturally appeared majestic…"

"But the majesty was not mine—it was the cosmic force that used me as its 'puppet.'"

"Later, my cultivation was cut down by a single sword. Without that force, I was merely myself—a fallen minor mountain god, forced now to live like this, tail tucked, scraping by…"

Mo Hua's expression shifted—moved by Huang Shanjun's clarity, yet pitying him.

Huang Shanjun felt deeply uncomfortable under Mo Hua's sympathetic gaze, and had to say:

"You didn't come here just to pick at my wounds, did you…"

Mo Hua nodded. "Of course not—I'm not that idle…"

Huang Shanjun's eyelid twitched, its face filled with helplessness.

This child, though appearing innocent, always spoke with piercing honesty…

Huang Shanjun sighed:

"What do you want? Ask now…"

Get it over with and go home.

Huang Shanjun wanted to get rid of Mo Hua.

Mo Hua immediately said: "Can you teach me the sword technique that cut you—the one that turns divine awareness into a blade?"

Huang Shanjun muttered: "I already said—I don't know how."

Mo Hua shook his head. "You don't know how to use it, but your divine awareness was strong, and you were directly struck by it—you must know the principle behind this divine-awareness sword, and how such a sword is cultivated!"

"I don't know…"

"No, you do!" Mo Hua's eyes gleamed, his tone certain.

Under Mo Hua's piercing gaze, Huang Shanjun felt a throbbing headache.

It felt it had never met such a troublesome little ancestor in its life…

"Fine, fine—I'll tell you…"

Huang Shanjun surrendered.

Better to speak now and be done with it—otherwise, who knew how long it would be tormented by this one?

Huang Shanjun seemed to recall some past event, his expression darkening as he said with solemn gaze:

"This sword art is called…"

"The True Scripture of Divine Mind Transforming into Sword!"

Huang Shanjun paused after speaking, glancing at Mo Hua, and was startled to see no surprise on his face—"You knew?"

"Mm." Mo Hua said.

"How could you know?"

Mo Hua leapt down from the altar, spreading his arms to show Huang Shanjun the elegant, refined robe he wore, its colors of dark and white:

"Guess what sect's robe I'm wearing?"

Huang Shanjun stared for a moment, then suddenly gasped, mouth wide open—"Could it be…"

Mo Hua smiled: "The robe of Grand Void Gate. Grand Void Gate… that's the 'Grand Void' in 'The True Scripture of Divine Mind Transforming into Sword.'"

Huang Shanjun felt a bitter pang in his heart.

He had thought Mo Hua's robe looked familiar, but only now, hearing him say it, did he realize—it was truly the robe of Grand Void Gate.

This Xiaozu Sect member wore the same sect robe as the one who had slain me back then!

Only, the one Mo Hua wore was the original disciple robe.

The cut and patterns were far simpler, with far more dark than white—unlike that man back then, who wore almost entirely white robes, which was why I didn't recognize it…

Huang Shanjun's gaze turned mournful: "You're a disciple of Grand Void Gate—why not learn it yourself? Why ask me?"

"The sect doesn't have it. I can't find it…"

Mo Hua pondered a moment, "Or perhaps it's because my realm is too low—I don't have the clearance to learn it yet…"

Huang Shanjun fell silent, reluctant to speak.

Mo Hua said: "Just tell me. I'll owe you a favor."

"What use is your favor…"

Huang Shanjun muttered inwardly, but still answered honestly: "Fine, I'll tell you…"

Mo Hua leapt back onto the altar, sat cross-legged, and listened in quiet stillness.

Huang Shanjun sighed: "I am a mountain spirit. My divine mind's rank differs from that of ordinary cultivators, so my understanding of divine mind is deeper…"

"Back then, when I fought that Grand Void Gate swordsman, in our exchanges, I was slashed all over by divine mind sword qi—and I came to understand something of the mystery of this sword art…"

"The sword art of divine mind transforming into sword differs from ordinary sword arts."

"Ordinary sword arts channel spiritual energy into a spiritual sword, condensing it into 'sword qi,' then kill enemies with sharp sword qi."

"Divine mind transforming into sword is different—it requires, above sword qi, condensing divine mind into formless, intangible, yet infinitely profound 'sword intent'…"

"Only by using sword qi as the foundation and refining divine spirit through sword intent can you unleash its immense power—able to cut through tangible objects, and even intangible spirits!"

"In short…"

"Ordinary sword control forges the sword, cultivates sword qi."

"Divine mind transforming into sword goes further—cultivating sword intent above sword qi."

"Both are indispensable: sword qi must be perfected before sword intent can arise; with sword intent enhancing it, sword qi becomes invincible, capable of slaying all around!"

A hint of pride gleamed in Huang Shanjun's gaze:

"Had it not been for this True Scripture of Divine Mind Transforming into Sword—capable of transforming the tangible into the intangible, cutting through formless spirits—back then, in this realm, none might have been able to harm me…"

Mo Hua considered:

"Then… aren't you a Dao Nai?"

Huang Shanjun's heart turned cold, his mind reeling, his expression utterly incredulous:

"You… how do you know?!"

Mo Hua nodded: "I've seen how Dao Nai are raised…"

And I've killed Dao Nai!

But such matters are taboo—hard to speak of…

Even so, Huang Shanjun drew in a sharp breath.

He now felt even more certain: this Xiaozu Sect member was not to be trifled with.

Huang Shanjun immediately dropped his proud expression.

No more boasting.

If I boast too much and blow my own cover, this Xiaozu Sect member might spot the cracks again—that would be bad…

Mo Hua didn't notice the subtle shift in Huang Shanjun's expression; he was lost in thought about divine mind transforming into sword:

"First cultivate sword qi, perfect it completely, then transform the tangible into the intangible to cultivate sword intent—only when sword intent merges with sword qi can one practice 'The True Scripture of Divine Mind Transforming into Sword'…"

Mo Hua was deeply disappointed.

"If I don't become a swordsman, don't cultivate sword qi—can I never learn divine mind transforming into sword?"

Huang Shanjun nodded: "Naturally."

Mo Hua thought a moment, then his eyes lit up: "What if I don't cultivate sword qi, but my spiritual sense is strong enough—could I directly transform divine mind into sword intent? Would that work?"

Huang Shanjun thought Mo Hua was delusional, and snapped:

"If you don't cultivate sword qi, where would sword intent come from?"

"You're a formation master—can you understand formation principles without drawing formations?"

"Isn't it the same logic?"

"The better you are as a swordsman, the sharper your sword qi, the purer and stronger your sword intent becomes…"

"How could you possibly transform divine mind alone? Is your spiritual sense stronger than a swordsman's sword qi?"

"Besides—how strong could your spiritual sense possibly be?"

Mo Hua whispered, "Sixteen patterns enough?"

Huang Shanjun snorted, "Sixteen patterns? Enough for what?"

Huang Shanjun was about to say more when he suddenly froze, turning to look at Mo Hua. "How many?"

"Sixteen patterns…"

Huang Shanjun's expression stiffened…

Sixteen patterns… how could it possibly be sixteen patterns?

How old are you? What realm are you in?

Foundation Establishment early stage—where did you get sixteen patterns of spiritual sense?

You didn't eat something…

Huang Shanjun's heart lurched; instantly, he fixed his gaze on his nose, then his lips, and spoke softly:

"Sixteen patterns of spiritual sense is already strong, but if you truly wish to transform your spiritual sense into a sword, it's still not enough…"

"Then how much?"

"Feather…" Huang Shanjun halted mid-sentence, downgrading his tone, "At least Jin Dan. Twenty patterns or more…"

"And even Jin Dan isn't guaranteed to achieve it…"

"After all, transforming spiritual sense into a sword means sword qi giving rise to sword intent, and sword intent manifesting as sword qi—not merely using 'spiritual sense' to manifest sword qi…"

Mo Hua nodded. "Alright, I understand."

I'll give it a try for now.

When my spiritual sense reaches twenty patterns and I form my Jin Dan, I'll see if I can summon a sword with spiritual sense alone.

Before then, I'll investigate further within the sect for the orthodox "Grand Void Spiritual Sense Sword Transformation True Scripture."

After all, Huang Shanjun's account is from the perspective of a victim—it may not be the true method of spiritual sense sword transformation, only a reference.

As Mo Hua thought of this, he muttered with a hint of resentment:

"When I asked last time, why didn't you tell me?"

Huang Shanjun's expression grew complex:

"Tell you, so you can master it and come slash me?"

Mo Hua froze, then realized it made sense—he no longer blamed Huang Shanjun, and instead took out some wine and meat from his storage pouch.

When visiting a friend, one naturally brings gifts.

"I bought these specially for you…"

There was pork, beef, vegetables and fruit, pastries, and wine…

In that instant, Huang Shanjun froze—within its heart, a warm current surged…

For so many years, it had grown accustomed to steamed buns, gnawing wild fruits, drinking rainwater daily, with no incense or offerings—long since grown emaciated…

This child, Mo Hua…

He was troublesome, ruthless, a bit unreasonable—but his heart was still good.

Huang Shanjun felt deeply comforted.

Mo Hua placed the wine and meat upon the altar.

The altar was used for sacrifices; the wine and meat offered would split in two.

One part remained physical, the other transformed into a spiritual sense-like "offering," for the mountain deity or similar spirits to consume.

The meat consumed by the mountain deity turned white and flavorless;

The wine consumed became as bland as water.

Mo Hua placed each offering one by one—until he reached a lamb leg, when Huang Shanjun's expression changed and he immediately said:

"No lamb!"

Mo Hua blinked. "No lamb?"

Huang Shanjun's face paled slightly and nodded. "I don't eat lamb…"

Mo Hua found it odd, but didn't press further.

One must respect others' dietary habits.

Humans are picky eaters—mountain deities are no different.

Still, one mustn't waste…

So Mo Hua set the lamb leg aside and ate it himself.

Inside the ruined temple, Huang Shanjun and Mo Hua ate together.

Huang Shanjun partook of the spirit-infused meat and fine liquor, yet his mind was elsewhere, unable to stop glancing at Mo Hua beside him.

Mo Hua sat atop the altar, gnawing on a lamb leg, relishing every bite.

"The meat it dares not eat—Mo Hua is eating it…"

Huang Shanjun's gaze trembled; suddenly, its heart pounded violently.

Vaguely, it felt that in the future, Mo Hua would do something terrifying…

…

After eating and drinking their fill, Mo Hua bid Huang Shanjun farewell.

The concept of the Grand Void Spiritual Sense Sword Transformation True Scripture grew clearer in his mind.

Spiritual sense, sword qi, scripture.

Three directions altogether.

"Twenty patterns of spiritual sense… still far off…"

Twenty patterns, spiritual sense forming a Jin Dan—surely a great barrier; I don't know what the bottleneck will be like…

According to Huang Shanjun's words, after twenty patterns, one can attempt to transform spiritual sense into a sword.

Even if you might not succeed in forming a sword, you still must try.

And there's sword qi…

When busy, you can also cultivate sword qi—not needing deep mastery, but at least laying some foundation in sword cultivation for "spiritual sense transformed into sword."

Then, there is the true transmission scripture of the Grand Void Spiritual Sense Sword Transformation Technique.

Once I complete more missions, accumulate more merit, unlock more permissions, get to know more disciples, and gather more clues, I'll see if I can find a way to obtain it ahead of time…

Though it's still early, I can prepare in advance and plan ahead.

Mo Hua nodded.

"One step at a time…"

The immediate priority is still formation arts!

After returning to the sect, Mo Hua, as usual, cultivated, attended classes, studied formation arts, and honed his spiritual sense.

Every ten-day break, he joined Elder Murong and the others on missions to accumulate merit.

After some time, Mo Hua, after enduring countless hardships, finally gathered over eight hundred merit points, then went to the Merit Hall and exchanged them for the Second-Rank Sixteen-Pattern "Beacon Magnetic Array" he had long desired.

This array is a Bagua Thunder-Magnet array.

It is a classified array.

In the Grand Void Gate, few disciples study it; even across the entire Qianxue Province, few are proficient.

But for Mo Hua, it is extremely important.

Mo Hua cherished and valued the array diagram of the "Beacon Magnetic Array," unfolding it like opening a brand-new gate to the art of formations…