Chapter 613 – Fusion of the Heavenly Algorithms
The next day, Mo Hua woke up with a splitting headache.
He sank his divine sense into his sea of consciousness and finally discovered that faint cracks had appeared within it. Every time his divine sense circulated, it was accompanied by a dull, stinging pain.
Mo Hua pondered for a moment—then suddenly froze.
"This is… the side effect of using Heavenly Trick Deduction and Heavenly Pattern Insight together?!"
Heavenly Pattern Insight—focused on essence, digging deep into the core.
Heavenly Trick Deduction—splits illusions, focusing on breadth and deception.
Using both supreme divine-sense algorithms at once puts an enormous strain on the mind, tearing at the sea of consciousness and even causing collapse...
The current cracks—
Were the first signs.
Mo Hua frowned.
His divine sense had already undergone a qualitative transformation, far stronger and more resilient than most cultivators'. And since he hadn't used both algorithms together too often, the pain was still manageable.
But if he kept doing this…
Unless his divine sense was as solid as that sheep-horned Enforcer's bone skull—completely manifested and indestructible—
He would never be able to withstand the dual burden of Trick and Insight.
Eventually, his divine sense would shatter completely.
Mo Hua sucked in a breath.
"Crap. I can't use them together…"
No wonder—
His master had only learned one.
His martial uncle had only learned the other.
With his master's talent, and his uncle's cunning, even they never tried to learn both.
Mo Hua—who was neither as talented nor as sly—had managed to learn both.
That was already a major win.
Trying to use both at the same time?
"Yeah, I might've flown a bit too close to the sun…"
This thought actually comforted him a bit.
"Be content, be happy. Know when to stop."
Sometimes, turning back after hitting a wall is its own kind of wisdom.
Mo Hua nodded to himself.
Right now, with his divine sense stinging, he couldn't study any further.
So he rested for several days—no drawing arrays, no reading books, barely using divine sense at all. Once he had fully recovered and the pain subsided, he resumed his study of the Flamefire Primordial Magnetic Array.
As he had deduced earlier:
The core of the Flamefire Primordial Magnetic Array was the faint, magnetically charged thunder-current generated between fixed and unfixed Primordial Magnetic runes.
This thunder-current was extremely subtle—hard to detect.
It resembled spiritual energy, yet also carried the flavor of array runes.
It straddled both, forming a kind of "secondary thunder-current."
If one wanted to "cheat" and break the array, they'd have to grasp this current—or rather, these Secondary Thunder Runes.
These true Secondary Thunder Runes were the "agreement", the rule itself, the bridge between fixed and unfixed runes.
Mo Hua simulated the array again, released his divine sense to probe—
But without the help of Trick and Insight, his divine will alone couldn't sense the thunder-current anymore…
He strained every ounce of divine sense—until he was completely numb—and still got nothing.
If he couldn't sense it, he couldn't study it.
Mo Hua frowned again.
"Being content isn't working anymore…"
If he just stayed content, he'd never make progress.
The situation was forcing him to be "greedy."
He had to use both algorithms—and at the same time.
Otherwise, he'd never uncover the secrets of the Flamefire Primordial Magnetic Array, or decipher the mysteries of the Transmission Talisman.
But using both would shred his divine sense.
Running both algorithms at once— Was just too heavy a load.
Occasionally? Maybe.
But prolonged use would definitely cause collapse.
Mo Hua lay on his bed, arms behind his head, brow furrowed, blinking at the plain, ancient ceiling.
Meanwhile, his mind turned over every trick he had—until suddenly, he froze. His heart jolted with realization:
The Dao Stele!
The Dao Stele could rewind divine sense!
When he drew arrays on the Dao Stele, any spiritual energy used could be recovered.
So what if— He used Trick and Insight on the Dao Stele, to deduce the thunder-current in the Primordial Magnetic Array…
Even if it tore his divine sense apart—
As long as the drawn runes were erased afterward…
Wouldn't that mean— His divine sense would rewind and return to perfect condition?!
Mo Hua shuddered, then immediately sat up.
It sounded insane—like the ultimate "cheat code"—but the logic was solid.
The Dao Stele appeared void, yet contained all.
Transform divine sense into array runes. Reverse runes into divine sense.
From existence to emptiness, from emptiness to being—mutual creation, mutual transformation.
Mo Hua's eyes lit up.
He made up his mind. That night at midnight, he entered his sea of consciousness.
In its center— The ancient, mysterious Dao Stele stood silently amidst the void, as if holding all the laws of the universe.
Mo Hua first drew a complete Flamefire Primordial Magnetic Array on the stele, with both fixed and unfixed magnetic runes.
Then he activated the array—watching as the two types of runes responded to one another.
Mo Hua's gaze deepened.
At the same time, he activated both Heavenly Trick Deduction and Heavenly Pattern Insight.
His eyes—half pitch-black, half crystal clear.
His divine avatar—cloaked in an ink-colored robe—began showing white cracks, as if the two opposing algorithms were twisting and tearing him apart…
His sea of consciousness trembled. The pain was intense.
Mo Hua endured, pushing through the agony, focusing on the hidden secondary thunder-current within the Primordial Magnetic Array.
And this time— He finally sensed it again: that faint, pale-blue thunder-current generated by magnetic response.
Weak, but profound.
Like the most primitive form of lightning-element spiritual energy—
A bolt of lightning still wrapped in its newborn swaddle.
It was a spiritual current, yet also bore rune-like traces, as if holding the embryonic form of future array evolution.
Mo Hua immediately began simplifying this current into a Secondary Thunder Rune, copying it onto the Dao Stele.
The pain intensified.
He gritted his teeth, forced himself to endure, and memorized the rune completely.
As soon as he did, the Trick and Insight algorithms shut down.
His divine sense was drained. His consciousness bore the full weight of both algorithms—faint cracks forming again.
Mo Hua panicked—and quickly erased all the runes and formations from the Dao Stele.
In the very moment of erasure— Existence turned into void.
As if nothing had ever happened— His divine sense was fully restored.
The cracks disappeared.
The pain vanished.
Mo Hua blinked.
Then—couldn't stop grinning from ear to ear.
"I was right!"
The Dao Stele can be used to cheat!
His master and martial uncle were both seniors. With centuries of cultivation, they could only pick one algorithm.
But he—was just a little junior. So—
He gets to have both!
Mo Hua happily patted the Dao Stele and praised it with a smile:
"You're amazing!"
His divine sense had rewound, but his experience and comprehension remained.
Which meant— He could now use the Dao Stele to "cheat"—simultaneously running both algorithms to deduce thunder-currents, and record the Secondary Thunder Runes.
In fact, by using the dual-array system to infer these runes, he was also…
Training the fusion of Trick and Insight!
Two birds with one stone!
He grasped the formation, and merged the algorithms!
Mo Hua's eyes gleamed with excitement.
Yes, it hurt—but that pain was nothing compared to what he was gaining.
Without delay, he began drawing the array over and over—merging Trick and Insight, deducing the thunder-currents, comprehending the Secondary Thunder Runes…
His divine sense was torn again and again—
And healed again and again.
What Mo Hua didn't realize was—
His divine sense was being tempered by this process.
One cycle at a time, it grew tougher, more refined—
Slowly approaching an unshakable, indestructible state.
Within the void Dao Stele, its mysterious Dao-rhythms—born of being and non-being—silently flowed into his divine will…
Subtle, unnoticeable…
But profound.
And Mo Hua— Only cared about his formations.
...
Three Days Later
Mo Hua was still laser-focused, wholeheartedly studying the Primordial Magnetic Array and the Secondary Thunder Runes.
But after several days of deduction, he encountered another problem—
Using Heavenly Trick Deduction to amplify Heavenly Pattern Insight allowed him to perceive the subtle thunder-currents in the Primordial Magnetic Array. From those, he could extract runes that reflected the fundamental laws of the array—
These were the so-called Secondary Thunder Runes.
But…
He couldn't actually learn them.
Over the past few days, Mo Hua had recorded quite a number of Secondary Thunder Runes—but without exception, every single one was completely different from the others.
Too many variations.
Too subtle.
Too complex.
There were no patterns. No rules. Nothing he could memorize, apply, or group together—
Which meant these "Secondary Thunder Runes" weren't true array runes at all.
They were more like manifestations of raw lightning itself.
Mo Hua sighed.
No wonder—
In most mainstream array traditions, cultivators only use the interaction between fixed and unfixed runes to simulate the thunder-currents—
Using them to transmit messages or display characters.
No one actually learns Secondary Thunder Runes.
Why?
Because these thunder-currents are too obscure.
Ordinary cultivators, without algorithmic support, can't even perceive them.
And even if they could—
The runes are so intricate and so minute, there's no way to categorize them like regular array patterns.
Some Secondary Thunder Runes even looked identical, but due to the slightest variation in the trailing thunder-current, they counted as completely different runes—
Indistinguishable to the naked eye.
These subtly-similar-but-different runes existed in countless numbers within the Primordial Magnetic Arrays.
Which meant…
It was fundamentally unlearnable.
A deep sense of frustration washed over Mo Hua.
After all his effort, all he'd uncovered was a deeper, more complex, more ungraspable truth at the core of the array...
He sulked for a bit.
But then he flipped the thought around:
"If this stuff were easy, it'd already be everywhere.
How else would I prove how badass my array skills are?"
The harder it was, the more value there was in mastering it.
The harder it was, the more it proved his depth and mastery.
Mo Hua's eyes lit up again, filled with fighting spirit.
"It's just some Secondary Thunder Runes…"
He had already learned grand formations and even deadly ones.
How could these little runes possibly stump him?
At most, they were just:
Complex in form
Subtle in variation
Massive in number
But as the saying goes:
With enough effort, even an iron pestle can be ground into a needle.
Draw an array a hundred times, and its meaning reveals itself.
Mo Hua pulled out a large jade slip and titled it:
"Secondary Thunder Runes"
He decided he would record every single rune he deduced—
No matter how chaotic or different—one by one into this jade slip.
With his deep divine sense, keen perception, and excellent memory,
he would brute-force memorize them.
One thousand? He'd memorize a thousand.
Ten thousand? Bring it on.
Mo Hua's gaze turned resolute.
"I refuse to believe I can't crack this."
If he could deduce the Primordial Magnetic Arrays thousands of times—
Record thousands of Thunder Runes—
Then surely some patterns would start to emerge.
Some insights. Some principles.
If he couldn't find a shortcut—
Then he'd take the longest, dumbest road possible.
From then on, Mo Hua began recording each and every Secondary Thunder Rune.
Whenever he had a free moment, he'd take them out and study them.
It was a long and tedious process.
But in that process—
He also got constant practice with formations, honed his divine sense, and refined his algorithm fusion.
So it didn't feel burdensome at all.
In fact, he felt more fulfilled than ever.
One Month Later—
The Great Void Sect entered its scheduled yearly break.
So-called yearly rest was a sect-mandated break held twice a year, about half a month long each time.
The break was designed so disciples—especially those from clans or noble families—could return home to pay respects to ancestors, report progress, visit relatives, or handle personal affairs.
(Some even went home to get engaged...)
Mo Hua, however, couldn't go home.
Tongxian City was too far away—even if he wanted to, he simply couldn't make it in time.
So he just wrote a letter and sent it from the courier station in Qian Prefecture.
In the letter, he described how he was doing—reassuring his family that all was well.
Although he hadn't made it into the Heavenly Dao Sect due to its high threshold, by a stroke of luck, he had entered one of the Eight Great Sects of Qian Prefecture—the Great Void Sect.
He met a kind and beautiful aunt from the Shangguan family named Wenren Wan, who had helped him a lot during his admission.
Within the sect, the old Mr. Xun who taught formations thought highly of him, and his array studies were progressing smoothly.
His fellow disciples were friendly and harmonious.
Several senior brothers and sisters treated him quite warmly.
He wasn't lacking in spirit stones either—
"There's plenty of wool to shear here in the sect…"
Mo Hua rambled on in his letter for quite a bit. In the end, he thought it over and wrote a simple conclusion:
"Everything's fine. No need to worry."
"Once I form my Golden Core, I'll come home!"
"…Dad, Mom, you two better keep cultivating. No slacking off! And don't be stingy with spirit stones. When I get back, you have to be at Foundation Establishment!"
Mo Hua paused, then frowned.
"Foundation Establishment" sounded a bit too low…
So he raised the bar:
Mid Foundation Establishment!
After finishing, he spent a few spirit stones and sent the letter off.
Li Prefecture was far, with countless mountains and rivers between.
Who knew how long it would take for the letter to arrive… or even what year it'd be by then?
Mo Hua felt a little melancholy for a moment.
Then he got up and headed toward the Gu Family in Qingzhou City.
Shangguan Xu had told him that Yu'er was having trouble sleeping again.
Mo Hua licked his lips, hopped on the Shangguan family's carriage, and made his way to the Gu residence in Qingzhou.
The moment Wenren Wan saw Mo Hua, it was like seeing an innate spiritual treasure that warded off evil—relief and joy all at once.
After asking after his health and chatting warmly, she frowned and sighed:
"Yu'er isn't as bad as before…"
"He doesn't shiver or feel icy cold all over. He's not constantly terrified or afraid to sleep anymore…"
"But… he still frowns in his sleep. Says his head hurts, feels anxious, has nightmares…"
"Although, he did say the monsters in his dreams… are fewer than before."
Mo Hua nodded reassuringly:
"Aunt Wan, don't worry. Very soon… there'll be even fewer."
Wenren Wan looked surprised.
That night, Yu'er once again lay quietly in bed.
With Mo Hua beside him, he slept peacefully and soundly.
Mo Hua sat in meditation nearby, flipping through an array book.
His divine sense was already quite strong—but still far from enough.
First, he needed to fuse the heavenly algorithms, deduce the Primordial Magnetic Array, and record the Secondary Thunder Runes.
The Flamefire Primordial Magnetic Array was a Grade-Two, Sixteen-Rune formation.
Even with his evolved and resilient divine sense, deducing it using the dual algorithms was still incredibly taxing.
The stronger his divine sense, the more ease he'd have.
Then there was Lord Huangshan's comment: Only by condensing his divine sense into a twenty-rune state could he cultivate the Great Void Divine Sword Manifestation Technique—a true art that could cut both tangible matter and intangible spirits.
So— The stronger, the better.
But methods to enhance divine sense were few and far between.
Besides painstaking array study and divine-sense tempering, Mo Hua was also relying on the occasional "side hustle" to… supplement his diet.
He was flipping through the book, but his mind wasn't really on it.
Night deepened. The side room was quiet and empty.
Suddenly—a gust of yin wind blew through.
A chilling cold set in, eerie and biting.
Mo Hua paused, the corners of his mouth lifting.
He looked up—and sure enough, saw chains of causality, formed by fate-patterned runes, stretching out from the void.
A stench of blood, filth, and malevolent rot spread through the space.
This kind of "stench" couldn't be smelled—
Only sensed by divine will.
Thick black fluid dripped from above.
Grotesque, deformed demons began emerging from it—soaked in black fluid like amniotic fluid—hatching one by one, crawling down the walls and ceiling along the chains of karma.
Just like last time...
There were horse-faced human bodies, donkey-headed demon beasts, and dog-bodied humanoids...
They ignored Mo Hua completely, crawling on all fours toward Yu'er.
Yu'er began to frown in his sleep, flailing his little hands and feet, murmuring softly.
Mo Hua stepped in front of him.
The demons clearly hesitated, then seeing Mo Hua was just a "little kid," their eyes turned blood-red, expressions twisted and cruel.
They didn't know Mo Hua's true nature.
Because the demons who did know?
Never made it out of Mo Hua's "slaughterhouse" of a sea of consciousness.
And from the moment they revealed themselves before Mo Hua— Their fate was already sealed.
Howling arrogantly, they turned into gusts of yin wind and surged into Mo Hua's sea of consciousness.
Their grotesque faces still wore triumphant sneers—
Until they saw it.
A grand, volcanic array— Burning like magma, erupting with fire— A Grade-Two Li Mountain Cremation Composite Array, already waiting for them.
Mo Hua didn't even bother playing this time.
He'd set the trap in advance—just sitting and waiting.
The moment they entered, they fell straight into his spiritual hotpot.
Mo Hua activated the cremation array.
Jagged stone peaks formed a prison.
Flames roared like an infernal fire pit.
The demons blinked, confused. Before they could react— they were gone.
Stewed in one pot.
Wisps of green smoke rose from the cremation array.
Mo Hua inhaled deeply, smacked his lips.
"Tasty… but not filling."
His divine sense had strengthened a bit—but not enough to push past the bottleneck between sixteen and seventeen runes.
What he regretted most:
No "Sheep-Horn Enforcer" this time.
Didn't get a taste of that faint golden divine marrow— What a shame...
Still, this was a pleasant surprise.
A bit of "side income." Mo Hua wasn't greedy.
At least his divine sense had truly grown stronger.
Once he finished "eating" the demons, the room's evil aura completely dissipated.
The night was peaceful. Moonlight serene.
Yu'er lay in bed, brow relaxed, face peaceful— Sleeping sweetly.
Mo Hua smiled faintly— But then his brows furrowed.
There was a massive conspiracy shrouding Yu'er. These dream-demons would keep coming— Nightmare after nightmare—seeking to devour Yu'er's spirit.
For now, things seemed quiet.
But as long as causality remained, they would always return.
Eventually…
They might encounter another Sheep-Horn Enforcer with golden divine marrow— Or even something stronger.
Maybe even a— Dark God.
Mo Hua paused.
A real dark god… probably wouldn't appear.
They were too powerful— If one truly descended, Yu'er's mortal body and sea of consciousness couldn't possibly endure it.
More likely…
A larval dark god. Or… a fetus?
Would a fetal dark god…
Be weaker?
Would it…
Mo Hua's eyes lit up. He licked his lips again, eyes gleaming with anticipation, and muttered to himself:
"I wonder what a real dark god… tastes like?"
(End of Chapter)