Chapter 626: Fireball
Mo Hua first headed to the Merit Pavilion to find the merit elder and request materials for a Grade-2 formation.
This merit elder was always all business with other disciples, but whenever he saw Mo Hua, he couldn't help but find the boy intriguing and would inevitably give him an extra glance.
He glanced at Mo Hua's Tai Xu Token and asked curiously:
"You can take Grade-2 beginner formations now?"
Mo Hua nodded, though inwardly he was thinking:
I've been able to take them for ages!
Not just beginner Grade-2—I can handle intermediate ones too!
You guys just wouldn't let me take them before!
Even now, having to "lower himself" to draw a mere Grade-2 ten-rune array still left Mo Hua a bit salty inside.
The merit elder, however, clicked his tongue in admiration.
"Not bad, not bad…"
Even in the Great Void Sect, with its fair share of formation geniuses, it was rare for a newly initiated disciple to start taking Grade-2 missions right away—even a ten-rune one was no small feat.
Normally, once a disciple passed the Formation Master grading, their name would be registered with the Merit Pavilion. He could usually check that list. But now that he thought about it…
He didn't recall ever seeing Mo Hua's name on there.
What the hell? Just breaking all the sect rules now, huh? Modifying titles on a whim?
The elder frowned, clearly confused.
"Wait, but… you haven't officially been graded, have you?"
He sighed.
"Forget it. If Elder Xun made the decision, it's not my business to meddle…"
Fortunately, this particular formation was so simple that Mo Hua only spent a bit of his free time and finished it quickly. It barely cost him any time at all.
Formation ranking exams were considered serious matters.
But if the one who "adjusted the status" was Elder Xun…
Well, even Grade-2 formations weren't exactly easy to draw.
Especially when the kid looked so young and fresh-faced.
The merit elder furrowed his brow, then suddenly asked:
"Let me guess—Elder Xun pulled some strings for you again?"
Hurry up and give me the materials already…
Since it was Elder Xun who adjusted his permissions, Mo Hua was standing tall. He wasn't afraid of getting questioned—if anything went wrong, Elder Xun would be the first to take the blame.
Mo Hua quickly realized this formation was something a male disciple had probably custom-commissioned to impress a girl—a decorative lantern array.
And it was… questionable whether it really conformed to sect regulations.
The merit elder was helpless. Inwardly, he could only grumble that Elder Xun was way too indulgent with this kid.
This kind of favoritism is going to backfire eventually…
Mo Hua took the materials and got to work.
He wasn't particularly impressed by the formation either.
When the lantern rose into the sky, it would trigger the array, releasing dazzling fireworks that looked like thousands of blooming pear blossoms—spectacular, yes, but...
"Really? All this just to chase girls?" Mo Hua thought with disdain.
He looked at the merit elder, who seemed lost in thought.
"Elder… what are you thinking about?" Mo Hua asked quietly.
The merit elder was muttering internally.
This kind of formation—an entry-level Grade-2 job—was rarely used. Any properly ranked Grade-2 Formation Master wouldn't bother with something that only earned a paltry seven or eight contribution points.
And now here's this kid, not even officially graded, already taking Grade-2 missions.
Still, it did technically help the sect. These missions contributed to the sect's overall rankings, which affected their share of spiritual mines across the Qianxue Province.
Wait, is this kid spacing out…?
Alas, Mo Hua had no choice but to grit his teeth and start from the bottom, drawing the lowest-ranked formations.
But the elder reconsidered—maybe it was good for the boy to face a little adversity. It could build character. Let him learn that formation work wasn't some cakewalk.
Feeling better about things, the elder asked, "So, you haven't officially been graded, right?"
Mo Hua replied honestly, "Nope."
Starting Grade-2 tasks without being ranked? He's bound to mess up eventually…
Still, the merit elder hesitated, then sighed and handed over the ink, brushes, and formation diagrams Mo Hua requested, thinking:
Hope this kid doesn't embarrass himself…
The formation, based on the notes, was meant to go on a decorative lantern.
But this one seemed a little different—the formation lines had been modified, with a few new variations added. It was still rough and simple, clearly done by someone without much skill, but also clearly done with great care.
Mo Hua confirmed, "Yep, that's the one!"
A Grade-1 Fireworks Formation? He could draw that with his eyes closed.
"Hmm. Hope this doesn't blow up in his face…" the elder muttered.
That evening, Mo Hua turned in his completed formation at the Merit Pavilion.
Seeing him back so soon, the elder blinked in surprise.
"What, messed up the drawing?"
No way he finished already. He must've made a mistake and come back for more paper and ink…
Surely he didn't just… finish it in that little time, right?
Mo Hua, a bit speechless, said, "Elder, can you just believe in me for once?"
It was just a ten-rune Grade-2 array.
Mess up? Please. Not unless I got drunk off fruit wine…
Which has, like, 0.5% alcohol. I'd have to chug a barrel to feel anything.
"I finished it!"
He stood on tiptoe behind the counter, chest puffed out.
The elder looked surprised.
"Finished?"
He opened Mo Hua's storage pouch and examined the formation.
It was flawless—precise strokes, elegant lines, beautifully crafted. Clearly drawn with great care. Nothing about it looked rushed or sloppy.
The elder narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
"You… did this yourself?"
"No," Mo Hua shook his head seriously. "I spent my contribution points to hire some senior brothers and sisters to draw it for me."
The elder blinked. He actually paused to consider if Mo Hua was telling the truth…
Then finally realized he'd been trolled, and couldn't help rubbing Mo Hua's head.
"You little rascal. Just playing with me, huh?"
Mo Hua rubbed his head with a helpless look.
"Well, if I told you the truth, you wouldn't believe me anyway…"
The elder grumbled, "So sneaky, this one."
Mo Hua chuckled.
After verifying the formation, the elder awarded Mo Hua his contribution points for the Fireworks Formation.
Not much—just nine points.
Although the Fireworks Formation was technically a Grade-2 array, it was far too simple.
Still, it was a solid first step.
Afterward, Mo Hua continued hunting for array missions in the Tai Xu Token.
He tried to accept missions for eleven to thirteen-rune formations, but no one was willing to let him take them. So he had no choice but to stick to ten-rune formations.
What puzzled him was that suddenly, several more Grade-2 ten-rune Fireworks Formation tasks popped up in the merit registry.
Apparently, someone's trick with sky lanterns and romantic confessions had worked—and now a whole wave of male disciples was jumping on the bandwagon.
Some female disciples even started doing the same—sending fireworks lanterns to senior or junior brothers.
Mo Hua just shook his head… and happily accepted all of them.
He drew them quickly and well, so it wasn't long before other disciples started contacting him through the Tai Xu Token, asking him to draw the Fireworks Formation for them.
Mo Hua didn't refuse anyone.
Though deep down, he couldn't help complaining:
These disciples… not focused on cultivation at all. Always chasing love stories—pathetic.
He also secretly criticized their poor lantern designs—low technical quality and even lower creativity.
If Senior Sister were here, I'd definitely make her a huge, dazzling lantern that would put all these to shame!
And just like that, Mo Hua ended up drawing more and more Fireworks Formations.
Because of his skill and the variety of styles he offered, some disciples even added custom requests—like using formation runes to display colorful words.
These phrases were usually encrypted using magnetic runes, likely to avoid others reading them. But these minor tricks were completely ineffective against Mo Hua.
He didn't even need to deduce them—just reading the runes, he already knew what messages they wanted to embed.
Things like:
"This love eternal, till heaven and earth grow old."
"Take your hand, grow old together."
"May I hold you like threads of silk, never regret, never look back…"
There were also some more… awkwardly corny ones:
"Grow old with thee, and this life won't be a waste…"
Mo Hua was utterly embarrassed.
Still, he secretly wrote them down—thinking maybe someday, he'd find them useful.
After half a month of drawing ten-rune formations, Mo Hua had saved up over 200 contribution points.
His "Grade-2 Beginner Formation Master" qualifications were now firmly established, with plenty of notes under his profile. His task history now had some real substance.
Finally, eleven-rune missions began to open up to him.
Mo Hua was overjoyed.
Eleven-rune formations weren't difficult for him either.
After accepting one, he completed it quickly, and again, with excellent quality.
And just like the new moon gives way to a full moon, more disciples started accepting his "applications" for missions.
Both ten and eleven-rune tasks came his way.
Like pebbles dropped into a still pond, they created ripples.
Among the disciples using the Tai Xu Token, Mo Hua's name as a "Formation Master" gradually started gaining recognition.
Some disciples even openly acknowledged Mo Hua's talent in formations.
There were even a few who would specially invite Mo Hua to take their bounty tasks.
Mo Hua was quite pleased.
These senior brothers and sisters of mine really do have good taste.
During xunxiu breaks, Mo Hua still teamed up with Senior Sister Murong for missions.
But on regular days, he focused on formation assignments.
He kept doing more and more, building up his experience, and the difficulty of the missions also increased steadily.
From ten-rune to eleven-rune, then to twelve, and eventually—thirteen-rune formations…
Thirteen-rune was the hardest array in the Grade-2 Beginner tier.
Even so, Mo Hua never once failed. In fact, his formations were better than some fully certified Formation Masters.
Gradually, Mo Hua became somewhat well-known.
Some disciples who didn't even know his identity began calling him "Senior Brother Mo", speaking to him with respect and courtesy.
If Mo Hua was busy, they'd even wait for him.
Just to have him personally draw the formation, they would offer extra contribution points—not a lot, just a few—but it was still a form of recognition.
Later, Mo Hua found out that some Grade-2 Formation Masters actually outsourced their commissions.
They'd accept the missions first, and then—if they couldn't finish them—hire some unranked but skilled disciples (with eleven or twelve-rune ability) to draw the formations for them.
The earned contribution points would then be split accordingly.
That's why some people offered extra points to ensure Mo Hua himself drew their formation, rather than outsourcing it to someone else.
Mo Hua just shook his head.
Taking formation jobs is already like getting free materials to practice with—how could I give that opportunity to someone else?
From ten to thirteen runes, he did it all himself.
The merit elder at the Merit Pavilion had been watching this unfold the whole time.
And when he finally saw Mo Hua request a thirteen-rune array scroll and return the next day with a perfectly drawn, flawless formation in hand—
—the merit elder's expression completely changed.
He looked at Mo Hua, eyelids twitching involuntarily.
It was only now that he realized…
This seemingly well-behaved, unremarkable-looking kid… was actually the real deal.
A Grade-2 Beginner Formation Master, at the early Foundation Establishment stage!
The elder was inwardly stunned.
No wonder… No wonder Elder Xun values this child so much…
Even breaking rules to open permissions for him…
With talent like this in formations, he's absolutely worth nurturing.
And more importantly—he's humble, steady, and diligent with his tasks.
And more importantly, he wasn't arrogant or impatient—he approached every task with diligence.
Even though his permissions were "unlocked" through backdoor means, every array Mo Hua drew was by his own hand, and every contribution point was earned through his own effort.
The Merit Elder nodded, becoming increasingly kind in both attitude and expression when dealing with Mo Hua. His gaze was filled with appreciation.
Sometimes, for tedious procedures, he even directly waived the requirements for Mo Hua.
This made accepting and submitting missions smoother and easier for him.
Normally, a thirteen-rune formation task would yield around twenty contribution points.
Such missions weren't always available, but whenever they appeared, Mo Hua could complete them within half a day. Naturally, his points accumulated rapidly.
With his earnings, Mo Hua exchanged for several copies of sixteen-rune arrays.
At this point, he had more than enough to sustain himself and begin studying various Eight Trigram Arrays preserved in the Great Void Sect's archives—and he still had surplus points left.
He now knew more and more formations, and his divine sense was growing stronger by the day.
Meanwhile, thanks to the increasing number of evil cultivators he apprehended, he also acquired quite a few spells. Mo Hua selectively picked through them and learned many new techniques:
Spells like Golden Blade Technique, Wood Poison Art, Quicksand Technique, and so on.
Although these were considered low-grade spells, they were often secret techniques treasured by certain sects in Qianxue Prefecture. Mo Hua discarded the dross and kept the essence—what remained were refined and potent techniques.
So in a way, they were extremely high-quality inheritances.
And since they were classified as "low-grade," Mo Hua could use them freely—without worrying about attracting unwanted attention or causing trouble.
The only issue?
These spells… were weak.
In fact, they weren't even as strong as Mo Hua's original Fireball Technique.
He knew that low-grade spells weren't meant for raw power, but he couldn't help feeling disappointed.
At this point, he didn't really have a powerful killing move.
Using large-scale formation collapse as an attack was far too complicated—its power was excessive, the setup required too much time and precision, and it drew too much attention. It just couldn't serve as a standard offensive tool.
Controlling ink with divine sense to lay down a killing array also had drawbacks:
It required opportunity. It needed surprise. It demanded planning.
And ultimately—it was still too slow.
Worse yet, this technique was far too conspicuous and lacked subtlety.
And formation crafting consumed spiritual ink and spirit stones—a few uses were fine, but using it regularly would leave him broke...
"What I really need," Mo Hua thought, "is a spell with decent power, low grade, low spirit consumption, fast to cast, and usable even in plain sight."
He racked his brains for days, but came up empty.
One evening after dinner, Mo Hua lay on the grass with Yu'er, both gazing up at the Great Void Mountain, where the sunset blazed like ink spilled across the sky.
Even then, Mo Hua was still mulling over spells.
Time passed unknowingly.
The sky darkened. The sunset dimmed. The sun dropped behind the mountain peaks.
Just before disappearing, the sun seemed to erupt in a thousand rays of fire, casting one final burst of radiance before retreating into the horizon.
Firelight… interwoven… sunset…
Mo Hua's eyelid twitched.
A long-buried memory suddenly surfaced in his mind.
That time, while traveling near the Si River, he had asked Puppet Grandpa for guidance on spells…
Puppet Grandpa had held out his palm—and a fireball emerged.
It began as a light red, gas-like flame. Then, under the guidance of divine sense, the spiritual energy compressed inward, forming a deep crimson fire thread.
That fire thread hovered in the air, containing terrifying spiritual power.
Then another fireball appeared…
Compressed again… forming another fire thread.
And again. And again…
After ten rounds, Puppet Grandpa's palm no longer held a fireball, but a bundle of over ten crimson fire threads, blazing with astonishing heat.
Finally, those fire threads twisted together, forming a single small fireball.
This version of the Fireball Technique—woven from flame-threads—resembled a spiritual yarn ball made of fire more than a simple spell.
Multiple compressions. Reconstructed spiritual energy.
It looked simple, but there was something uncanny about it.
Puppet Grandpa had casually waved his hand, sending the fireball hurtling into the river. The water immediately began boiling violently.
A vast lake-sized patch of water evaporated instantly, leaving a giant hollow crater in the river.
Steam erupted.
The mist rolled.
Moments later, the river backflowed, rushing inward and creating a massive whirlpool at the surface.
That scene kept replaying in Mo Hua's mind, again and again.
And Puppet Grandpa's voice echoed in his ears:
"The principles of complex spells… often hide within the simplest and most ordinary techniques."
Multiple compressions. Spiritual reconstruction. Fireball forged of fire-threads, carrying immense power…
Mo Hua's heart was shaken.
"Just what kind of Fireball Technique was that…?"
(End of this Chapter)