Chapter 94: Spirit Ink

"Spiritual awareness has its limits."

Mo Hua found Mr. Zhuang's words strangely reasonable.

Since that was the case, Mo Hua stopped worrying—once the realm improved, spiritual awareness would naturally rise too; everything would follow its course, so he need only focus on cultivation, for haste achieved nothing.

The most important thing now was to learn more arrays.

The bottleneck of the "Great Expansion Sword Art" was the riddle array; to solve riddle arrays, one needed to master the vast and complex art of arrays. Mo Hua had only learned a small portion of the "Thousand Array Diagrams" given by Mr. Zhuang, and his current array knowledge was far from sufficient.

If he could not solve the riddle array, he could not break through the bottleneck; if he could not break through the bottleneck, his realm would stagnate. Once the realm stagnated, the Dao path would end.

Thus, beyond his daily cultivation, Mo Hua devoted all his attention to arrays.

At night, as he slept, he practiced arrays on the broken stele in his mind sea; by day, when awake, he drew arrays on paper; occasionally, when someone's array failed, they would come to ask Mo Hua for help.

When Master Chen's artifact forge needed assistance—such as repairing a furnace or adding arrays to spirit tools—they would ask Mo Hua to take a look; sometimes, Old Master Feng would even introduce cultivators to him to draw arrays.

Some paid Mo Hua spirit stones as compensation; others, whose families were truly destitute, could only offer him apologies along with homegrown vegetables and fruits, or candy figures and toys they sold at the marketplace.

Mo Hua knew solitary cultivators struggled to survive, so he accepted only symbolic amounts of spirit stones; occasionally receiving food, drink, or toys, he was quite pleased.

Mo Hua's original intent was to apply what he learned and practice arrays, so he did not mind these small exchanges.

As a result, from then on, every time Mo Hua walked through the streets, those uncles, aunts, uncles, and aunts who had received his help would slip him things: wild fruits picked from the mountain, steamed rice cakes, grasshoppers woven from bamboo, calming incense pouches—even cosmetics and handkerchiefs used by female cultivators…

When Mo Hua offered spirit stones, they refused outright; if he refused their gifts, they grew visibly displeased.

Thus, Mo Hua spent not a single spirit stone from one end of the street to the other, yet his storage bag grew so full he could barely close it—he felt like a pampered young noble who ate and took everything for free, leaving him both amused and exasperated.

After some time, Mo Hua discovered a grave problem:

He had no spirit stones left to buy spirit ink!

Since Liu Ruhua opened her eatery, Mo Hua's family situation had improved greatly.

The spirit stones Mo Hua used daily for cultivation were given to him by his parents; Mo Hua originally refused, but Mo Shan and Liu Ruhua firmly would not accept it. They said he was still young, not yet at the age to support himself.

Mo Hua also earned some spirit stones by drawing arrays himself; he used all of them to buy brushes and ink for array practice, occasionally spending one or two spirit stones on tasty treats to satisfy his cravings.

Overall, Mo Hua's income and expenditure of spirit stones were roughly balanced, with occasional surplus.

Though the surplus was never much…

But since Mo Hua's cultivation had advanced and his spiritual awareness gradually strengthened, the arrays he drew became more complex; due to the effect of the "Great Expansion Sword Art," his spiritual control grew stronger, and he drew arrays faster and faster.

The faster he drew arrays, the more arrays he drew each day; the more arrays he drew, the stronger his spiritual awareness became; the stronger his spiritual awareness, the more complex the arrays he drew; though the arrays grew more complex, Mo Hua still drew them faster and faster, causing the number of arrays he drew to keep increasing…

The Dao stele, the Great Expansion Sword Art, the meditation technique…

This once-beneficial cycle led to a vicious outcome:

Mo Hua's spirit ink was consumed like water, and his spirit stones vanished just as swiftly.

Until one day, Mo Hua realized his spirit ink was gone—and his spirit stones were spent too—only then did he grasp the severity of the problem.

Poor and penniless, Mo Hua frowned, "What should I do?"

Ask his parents?

Mo Hua shook his head—he wanted his parents to spend more spirit stones on their own cultivation, so their realms would rise and their lifespans extend. If he asked, they would surely give him all their spirit stones.

Charge more spirit stones when drawing arrays?

Mo Hua also felt that was wrong—his neighbors were all solitary cultivators, already struggling, with few spirit stones to spare. Moreover, he had unknowingly received much kindness from them, so charging more was out of the question.

Could he mix his own spirit ink?

Mo Hua did not know the formula or method for mixing spirit ink; even if he did, he needed raw materials—and he had no way to obtain them.

Mo Hua pondered this problem for two days but found no good solution.

That afternoon, Liu Ruhua frowned and said, "Da Hu got hurt hunting demons on the mountain—it's said to be serious. Take these things to him and see how his wound is."

Mo Hua's heart leapt. "Yes, Mother, I'll go right away!"

When Mo Hua arrived at the Meng household, Da Hu and Shuang Hu were tending to Xiao Hu.

Xiao Hu lay on the bed, eyes closed, face pale, a deep, bleeding claw wound across his back, blood seeping steadily.

Seeing Mo Hua, Da Hu and Shuang Hu's eyes brightened, then dimmed again with disappointment.

This was the first time Mo Hua had seen Da Hu and the others in two months.

Demon hunter was no easy profession; demons of the same realm were far stronger than cultivators, for their bodies were naturally gifted, their blood qi robust, their reflexes sharp, and their movements agile. Moreover, a demon's demonic energy either carried the Five Elements or innate toxins—extremely dangerous.

Once one became a demon hunter, it meant relentless toil day and night, with life hanging by a thread.

Many powerful demon hunters, merely through momentary carelessness, were swallowed whole by demons; even the strongest demon hunters often traveled in pairs, watching each other's backs, never allowing the slightest lapse.

Da Hu and the others were still novices, just beginning their demon hunting, with much to learn—and thus, far more vulnerable.

Though among their peers among solitary cultivators, Da Hu and the two others were already top-tier, learning cultivation and techniques quickly, they still could not adapt swiftly once they truly began hunting demons.

For these two months, they had stayed on the mountain, learning to understand the terrain, recognize demons, and attempt combat with them. In such battles, they had to concentrate utterly—any slip could mean injury, and severe ones could cost their lives.

A seventeen-year-old young cultivator who entered the mountain with them panicked upon encountering a demon and had his throat bitten through, bleeding out to death.

This was what Da Hu had told Mo Hua before; Mo Hua had thus deeply understood the weight of the words "demon hunter." Now, Xiao Hu, his childhood friend, bore a bleeding wound on his back.

"Has Old Master Feng come to see him?"

Mo Hua looked at Xiao Hu's pale face, feeling sorrowful.

"Old Master Feng came, mixed herbal medicine, applied it to the wound, and gave Xiao Hu pills." Shuang Hu's eyes were red.

"What happened?" Mo Hua could not help asking.