My Whole Class Isekai'd to a Xianxia? Good Thing I Can Do Mind-reading-Chapter 324: Tier 9 Array Master

Beneath the sand, Feng Fan stood still, surrounded by silence. But above him, he could feel the ongoing battle. The screams of pain had changed. They no longer belonged to just one side. Red Pole, once lambs led to slaughter, were now wolves with bloodstained fangs. The despair in their hearts had been replaced by fury and hope.

He closed his eyes. He immersed himself in the sensations above—the chaos, the cries, the flicker of a thousand clashing wills—resonated deeply within him.

Behind Feng Fan, in the space between the physical and the spiritual, an image slowly took form.

A battlefield, stretching endlessly under a sky painted crimson with blood and ash. The corpses of men, beasts, and monsters lay broken and twisted across the cracked earth. Mangled banners fluttered in the wind, some aflame, others soaked in blood. Weapons jutted from the ground like gravestones. Fire raged in the distance. Blood pooled into rivers.

Above it all, a monstrous eye loomed in the heavens. It was half-lidded, amused, indifferent.

And yet amidst the madness, there was power. A dark harmony hidden in the discord.

This was the image of his Dao. Not peace. Not balance. But Disorder, the natural state beneath all illusions of control.

Feng Fan opened his eyes slowly, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's time to take control back."

The battle above raged on, far from over. Red Pole now truly had a chance of victory. But Feng Fan was not the kind to entrust his fate to others. His path was his own, and he would carve it with blood and fire if necessary.

Spiritual qi surged through his hands, humming with intent. In response, the spectral battlefield behind him shuddered and shifted. The corpses twitched. The rivers of blood churned. Spears and swords turned in place like weather vanes caught in a storm.

He focused on one of the tier 8 arrays etched into his body. It began to change. Originally crafted for balance and stability, it now contorted as he poured the essence of his Dao into it—Disorder. A concept so primal, so raw, it rejected structure by its very nature.

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Minutes passed. The once steady, methodical patterns of the array twisted and warped. Lines lost symmetry. Nodes flickered erratically. Circles broke and reformed in jagged patterns. Somehow, the array did not collapse. It adapted.

Most Array Masters spent their lives chasing stability, seeking to bind the elements in rigid, predictable flows.

Feng Fan was doing the opposite. He wasn't creating balance. He was embracing the storm.

He was placing chaos where order was worshipped, unpredictability where control was demanded, and madness where logic once reigned.

And it worked.

To create a tier 9 array, one had to do more than simply understand the intricacies of formations. It required the cultivator to infuse their very Dao into the array, merging their personal truth with the fabric of the Heavenly Laws. This wasn't just a matter of insight; it was a test of defiance, of will, of one's very essence aligning, or clashing, with the order of the universe.

The Dao Seeking realm was the bare minimum required to attempt such a feat, but even then, most cultivators only succeeded after reaching the Transcending Tribulation realm or beyond. For Feng Fan, however, the moment he stepped into the Dao Seeking realm, he did what most wouldn't dare even dream—he infused his Dao into an array.

Where others sought harmony with the heavens, Feng Fan imposed his will upon them.

Instead of weaving his Dao in accordance with the Heavenly Laws, he superimposed his truth over them, twisting, warping, and reshaping their flow until they bowed beneath him.

He didn't try to please the heavens. Why should he? The heavens had never favored him. From the moment he began cultivating, they had tried to crush him.

So, he chose to go against it.

Wasn't that the essence of cultivation?

To fight.

To rise.

To defy the heavens.

And now, with a Dao steeped in disorder and defiance, Feng Fan was doing exactly that.

'Little Brick, it's finally time for us to join the show,' Feng Fan said inwardly, a sharp gleam flashing in his eyes.

Little Brick let out a hum filled with eagerness. With a tremor, it surged upward, launching a column of sand high into the air. The explosion carved a path to the surface, like the earth itself was bending to Feng Fan's will.

Feng Fan shot upward, his figure rising with the storm of dust and grit. Behind him, his Dao image loomed like a god of war ascending from the underworld.

The moment his presence touched the sky, dozens of eyes snapped toward him.

"There he is!" someone roared. "It's that bastard from Red Pole. kill him!"

Dozens of attacks from the Obsidian Court cultivators launched simultaneously, streaking across the sky like falling stars, all converging on one target.