Chapter 51: The Morality Journal

“An array formation manual?”

Lu Yan raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Whether it was First-Grade or Second-Grade, any manual related to formation techniques was undeniably high-end material.

The four great cultivation crafts—Talismans, Artifacts, Pills, and Arrays—were the holy grail that countless rogue cultivators pursued.

The greatest weakness of rogue cultivators was their lack of a stable spirit stone income. Most of them were forced to risk their lives by venturing into beast-infested mountain ranges, hunting monsters or gathering spiritual herbs to sustain their cultivation.

It was a perilous method, where a single mistake could lead to death at the jaws of a demonic beast.

However, mastering any one of the four cultivation crafts could allow a cultivator not only to support their own cultivation but also to accumulate a considerable fortune.

Even among the four great crafts, there existed a hierarchy—and at the very top stood formation masters.

In the markets where rogue cultivators gathered, there were many talisman makers, pill refiners, and artifact forgers—but formation masters were exceptionally rare.

Formation techniques were notoriously complex. A single manual was not enough for the average cultivator to grasp their profound intricacies.

True formation masters had to undergo systematic training, read vast amounts of formation theory, and conduct extensive hands-on experiments before they could even be considered qualified.

These were individuals capable of deconstructing the fundamental framework of an array and adapting it to the surrounding environment. It was a field that demanded immense resources and exceptional talent. Those who only knew how to set up a couple of formations mechanically couldn’t even be called real formation cultivators.

Lu Yan knew he wasn’t some heaven-defying genius, but he was still intrigued by formations. So he opened the Profound Formations Manual and began reading.

An hour later, Lu Yan put down the manual with a blank expression.

This wasn’t a beginner’s manual—it was a Second-Grade formation inheritance, covering eleven First-Grade formations and three Second-Grade formations.

Lu Yan had no foundational knowledge of formations, so terms like formation patterns, formation bases, array nodes, and spirit vein channels were complete gibberish to him.

Just as he began to make sense of one page, the next would completely throw him off again.

Worse still, the words Lu Yan saw repeated most often in the book were—“calculation”.

Every single formation required meticulous and complex calculations. Lu Yan even saw traces of advanced mathematics in its logic—knowledge he had long since left behind in school.

After studying for an hour, the only thing he could be sure of was that one of the Second-Grade formations was a Spirit Gathering Array. The rest? Completely over his head.

Thankfully, the formation plate he had obtained earlier was built for idiot-proof use. If he had to manually set one up from scratch, he wouldn’t even know where to begin.

“The path of formations… really isn’t for me.”

Muttering to himself, Lu Yan still carefully stored the Profound Formations Manual close to his person.

After going through several version updates, Lu Yan had come to realize that knowledge was the most valuable resource across all versions.

Even if Profound Formations Manual was useless to him now, who was to say it wouldn’t prove vital in a future version?

The possibilities were endless with world updates—anything could happen.

He reached for the second book.

Compared to the elegant binding of Profound Formations Manual, this one looked extremely worn, clearly aged and battered by time.

As soon as his fingers touched its surface, Lu Yan sensed something was off.

The book was bound in some sort of demonic beast leather. Though it looked shabby and devoid of spiritual energy, Lu Yan could still feel its tough resilience.

Even a Low-Grade magic artifact might struggle to cut through it, and flame techniques like Spirit Fire Art might not be able to damage it at all.

Yet the battered appearance was clearly due to the natural erosion of time. That alone made Lu Yan wonder—just how long had this book existed?

His gaze dropped to the cover, and the title caught him by surprise.

“The Morality Journal?”

“Could this be related to the Morality Sect?”

Without hesitation, Lu Yan focused his mind and began flipping through the book.

His guess was quickly confirmed—The Morality Journal indeed originated from the Morality Sect.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t a cultivation manual, but rather a personal diary written by an inner disciple of the Morality Sect.

“Seventy-five thousand six hundred and thirteenth year of the Heavenly Dao calendar, July 8th:

Finally began my secular training. Planning to hunt demons in mortal towns and accumulate merit.”

“July 21st:

Saw a bully harassing commoners in a mortal town. Taught him a lesson in secret. But for some reason… I lost merit.”

“August 3rd:

Passed through the town again. Found out the bully had behaved for a few days after being disciplined, but lost face publicly. In revenge, he burned down a home at night, killing a family of seven before fleeing.”

“August 7th:

Tracked the bully down. Crippled him and brought him back. Executed him in front of the family’s grave. This time, I didn’t lose any merit. I think… I understand a little more now.”

Most entries in The Morality Journal were accounts of cultivation experiences, secular trials, and insights on how to accumulate merit.

To most people, this book would seem worthless—it wasn’t even a cultivation technique. And though there were occasional mentions of cultivation and the Morality Sect, the information was too sparse to be meaningful.

But to Lu Yan—who held an enormous reserve of merit—this book was an invaluable reference guide.

Many techniques for using merit were only mentioned in passing, but even those brief descriptions gave Lu Yan tremendous inspiration.

One particular entry stood out to him—it mentioned top-grade spells.

The author claimed that almost all top-grade spells were simplified versions of divine abilities.

Although these spells were difficult to master, they were still much easier to cultivate than true divine techniques. If one could push a top-grade spell to its limit, they might even be able to reverse-engineer it back into a divine ability.

That was why top-grade spells—rooted in divine techniques—could often defy cultivation tiers and unleash power far beyond their rank.

It was then that Lu Yan realized: Red Lotus Karma Flame might actually be a weakened and modified version of the Xuanhuang Merit Fire.

By modifying the Red Lotus Karma Flame Scripture and leveraging his vast supply of merit, Lu Yan had unknowingly resurrected a lost divine ability.

As he flipped through The Morality Journal, it felt as though he were reliving the life of a disciple from the Morality Sect thousands of years ago.

He turned another page—and a new entry caught his attention.

“Seventy-five thousand eight hundred and seventh year, Ninth Month, Eighth Day:

Senior Brother Qinglian, the Morality Sect’s top prodigy known as the ‘Innate Saint,’ has broken through to Nascent Soul. The sect is preparing to forge him a Merit Treasure using the accumulated merit from the sect’s Merit Pool.

With such a treasure, one can kill without incurring karma, and even if they die, their soul will not fall into Hell. With Senior Brother Qinglian’s talent, once he receives his Merit Treasure, even facing a Nascent Soul demonic cultivator wouldn’t be a threat. Oh, when will I ever reach such a level…”

The words “Merit Treasure” echoed over and over in Lu Yan’s mind.

Suddenly, a bold idea flashed across his heart.

“What if… I tried refining the Soul Banner into a Merit Treasure?”

(End of Chapter)