Mo Hua was already fourteen years old.
Cultivators have a long lifespan, even an ordinary Qi-refining cultivator could live for approximately one to two hundred years.
Being in one’s teens was not considered old for a cultivator.
Bai Zisheng told Mo Hua that in so large noble clans, any cultivator under the age of eighteen was still considered a child.
Because mbers of noble clans generally had higher cultivation levels and longer lifespans, a decade or so was insignificant to them.
However, in Tongxian City or other lower-tier immortal cities, many loose cultivators might never progress beyond the Qi-refining realm in their entire lives.
Therefore, anyone over fifteen was regarded as a young lad.
If one did not have access to the right avenues in Tao cultivation and couldn’t advance one’s cultivation level, one had to learn a Tao cultivation skill to beco self-reliant in the future.
That’s what Da’hu and Dazhu had done.
Da’hu and his two companions learned monster hunting, while Dazhu learned artifact refining.
The purpose was to ensure they had enough to eat.
Mo Hua had beco a first-grade Formation Master, capable of supporting himself, but he still didn’t look very old.
One reason was that he was inherently weak and grew slowly, making him shorter than his peers.
Another was that he had never practiced body refinent, which made him appear even thinner.
People like Da’hu and Dazhu were naturally big and tall and had practiced body refinent, so even though they were only three or four years older than Mo Hua, they were much taller than him.
Mo Hua couldn’t help but sigh.
He too wished to be tall and strong.
Unfortunately, he spent every day drawing formations, exhausting his mind and energy. He did eat quite a bit, but he didn’t grow much in height…
Now at fourteen, he was only a little taller than he had been at thirteen.
His junior brother Bai Zisheng was a head taller than him, and his junior sister Bai Zixi, with her tall stature, was also half a head taller than him.
Furthermore, with Mo Hua’s delicate features and fair complexion, he resembled a porcelain doll, making him appear even younger.
"When will I grow taller?" Mo Hua pondered sowhat dejectedly.
He glanced at Bai Zisheng sitting to his left and then at Bai Zixi to his right, silently thinking to himself:
"I at least need to be taller than my junior sister..."
Bai Zixi gave him a puzzled look, "What are you thinking about?"
Mo Hua shook his head, "Nothing at all!"
…
Besides that, Mo Hua’s cultivation realm had reached the eighth layer of Qi Refinent.
He was one step closer to Foundation Establishnt.
The advancent in his cultivation realm had made his body a bit stronger.
But since he wasn’t a body cultivator, this slight improvent was insignificant, like a mosquito’s leg.
His spiritual power had also increased.
But his spiritual root was diocre, and even though the cultivation technique he practiced was unique, its uniqueness lay in the use of divine sense rather than spiritual power.
So the spiritual power he cultivated was not abundant, just diocre.
Just marginally inferior compared to the average cultivator.
However, compared to his junior brother and sister or the descendants of other familial clans and sects, he was probably far behind.
He rembered Mr. Zhuang saying that noble clans and sects relied on inheritance theories of spiritual roots, married generationally among each other, and thus birthed descendants with exceptional spiritual roots.
The disciples from the large clans and great sects often had superior spiritual roots.
In contrast, Mo Hua’s diocre spiritual root, which was on the lower end, truly wasn’t impressive.
But if it wasn’t impressive, so be it.
After all, he didn’t rely on it to make a living.
Mo Hua was a Formation Master, who should establish himself with formations as his foundation.
Mr. Zhuang had also shown him a way, instructing him to "Prove the Dao with Divine Sense."
Moreover, as a cultivator’s spiritual root was innate and unchangeable, there was no point in fretting over it.
After reaching the eighth layer of Qi Refinent, Mo Hua’s spells had also strengthened.
Firstly, his Concealnt Technique.
Now, cultivators in the initial stage of Foundation Establishnt could hardly see through Mo Hua’s Concealnt Technique.
The effectiveness of the Water Prison Technique had increased as well.
It was cast faster, entrapped adversaries more accurately, and the duration of the constraint had been extended by a mont.
Although it was just a mont, in life-or-death struggles, this brief ti could make the difference between survival and demise.
The power of the Fireball Technique had also intensified.
Mo Hua had specifically tested it a few tis.
The color of the fireball had deepened slightly, and amidst the dark red was a hint of dazzling beauty, teeming with explosive spiritual power.
It was unassuming yet resplendent, with danger lurking within its brilliance.
Mo Hua couldn’t help but wonder.
If he continued to cultivate the Fireball Technique to its pinnacle, what would the effect be, and how strong could the power beco?
Mo Hua tried to imagine, but he couldn’t conceive of it.
The effects of the spells beyond the Foundation Establishnt Realm were beyond his comprehension.
When he had ti, he would ask Old Kui.
Old Kui should know.
After all, his Fireball Technique was taught by Old Kui, as were the techniques for using spells.
Then ca the matter of divine sense.
The divine sense with twelve patterns in Foundation Establishnt was indeed much stronger than before.
His divine sense was more acute, his calculations faster, and his perception of the surrounding spiritual power more distinct.
Previously, drawing the Thick Earth Formation with eleven patterns was adept yet sowhat strenuous.
Now, when drawing the sa formation, it felt much easier.
The fact that he now had a twelve-pattern divine sense...
Mo Hua thought for a mont and then went to find Mr. Zhuang:
"Master, could you teach how to use the Slaying Divine Thought thod?"
He rembered Mr. Zhuang saying before that once his divine sense grew stronger, he would teach him how to deal with parasitic divine sense.
How to oppose, or even destroy, divine sense or divine thoughts—or malicious intentions from others, when they invaded the Sea of Consciousness, whether they ca from humans or non-humans.
Now that his divine sense had reached twelve patterns, it should be considered strong.
Mr. Zhuang calculated with his fingers and said:
"There’s still plenty of ti, no rush, wait until your divine sense grows stronger."
"It needs to be stronger..." Mo Hua muttered quietly.
"Haste makes waste," Mr. Zhuang spoke gently.
"Yes," Mo Hua nodded.
He continued to ask:
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