Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 260: Slaying the Water Demon

Once the villagers recognized the elderly man accompanying the group, their panic subsided.

After the old man’s hurried explanation, the situation became clear to them: the strangers standing before them were not bandits, but immortals who had descended to deliver them from the monster in the river.

Upon realizing this, the mortals fell to their knees in a wave of gratitude, bowing their heads to the dust.

“Cease this foolishness. Sacrificing children will not buy you peace,” Qin Lu said, his voice cutting through their murmurs. “Safety is not begged for; it is seized by one’s own hand.”

His expression was frosty as he manipulated his spiritual energy, gently floating the two rescued children back to the front of the crowd.

He held a deep-seated disgust for the practice of human sacrifice. To prevent such a tragedy from recurring, he knew he had to employ a mix of intimidation and reason.

Hearing the harshness in his tone, the villagers exchanged fearful glances. They lowered their heads further, terrified that the immortal master might hold them accountable for their earlier ignorance.

Qin Lu, however, had no interest in bickering with ordinary mortals. He turned his back on them and looked out toward the broad, placid river.

The banks were picturesque—willows trailing in the water, red flowers dotting the lush grass. A cool breeze swept across the surface, stirring gentle ripples that danced in the sunlight. It was a scene of serene beauty.

But Qin Lu was in no mood to admire the view.

He could sense it—a sinister, bone-chilling aura rising from the depths, locking onto him with malevolent intent.

“Hmph. Angry that I spoiled your meal?”

Qin Lu sneered. His arm blurred.

Schwing!

The [Silver Sand Sword] screamed as it left its sheath. In the same instant, Qin Lu vanished.

By the time the sound of his movement reached the ears of the onlookers, he was already hovering above the center of the river.

His speed was terrifying. The mortals saw nothing; even the three disciples on the spirit boat saw only a blur. Only Gu Can, a fellow Foundation Establishment cultivator, managed to track a faint afterimage of Qin Lu’s trajectory.

Even so, Gu Can’s jaw dropped in disbelief. He knew there was a gap between his strength and Qin Lu’s, but he hadn’t realized it was a chasm this wide.

Before the crowd could process his movement, Qin Lu struck.

He raised the longsword and brought it down in a vicious, vertical slash.

Whoosh…

The tip of the blade traced a perfect arc, tearing through the air with a high-pitched shriek.

Then, silence.

A faint, almost imperceptible distortion of wind rippled from the blade. Below, the flowing water seemed to hesitate for a fraction of a second.

Then came the roar.

BOOM—!!

A deafening thunderclap exploded across the valley.

The tranquil surface of the Peace River was violently torn asunder. The river did not just splash; it was severed.

The waters recoiled in terror, parting down the middle to form towering, liquid walls on either side. These ramparts of water rose higher and higher, held back by an invisible, oppressive force.

In the center of the river, a vacuum appeared—a trench nearly 30 feet long revealing the muddy, chaotic riverbed and the shattered remains of fish caught in the sword intent.

With a single stroke, Qin Lu had cleaved the river in two.

One Sword to Sever the Current.

This strike was the culmination of Qin Lu’s raw sword intent fused with the Grandmaster-level [Water Dragon Technique].

“Found you,” Qin Lu said indifferently.

He stared down into the exposed trench of the riverbed.

There, standing amidst the mud and sludge, was a humanoid figure radiating a dark green, icy aura.

The Water Ghost.

Having cultivated for a century, the specter had taken human shape and developed intelligence. At this moment, its emotions were undisguised.

There was no brutality or malice in its eyes—only sheer, paralyzing terror.

The Water Ghost’s mind reeled. What… what is this? An immortal? He cut the river? He cut the entire river?

I am going to die.

The creature looked up at the figure hovering in the sky, its expression blank with shock. Qin Lu’s strike had forcibly stripped away its connection to the water, exposing its true form. Stripped of its element, it was frail.

Before it could formulate a plan to flee, Qin Lu’s wrist flicked again.

The second strike descended.

Swish!

The sword energy slashed through the air with blinding speed.

It was too fast. Too fast for the mortals, too fast for the disciples, and far too fast for the Water Ghost.

Squelch!

The dark green phantom shattered on impact.

It didn’t even have time to scream. The creature exploded into a wisp of black smoke and dissipated instantly.

The Water Ghost was dead. Its hundred years of cultivation, its dream of becoming a local river god—all extinguished in the span of two breaths.

Two swords. The demon was no more.

Crash!

With the suppressing force gone, the towering walls of water collapsed inward, crashing together with a thunderous splash and sending a massive spray of mist into the air.

“Sect Master! That was incredible!”

“Whoa! Master!”

On the spirit boat, the three younger disciples cheered wildly, their eyes shining with hero worship. This display of power had completely shattered their understanding of what was possible.

Qin Lu didn’t respond to the cheering, offering only a faint, polite smile before diving toward the water.

He had noticed something. In the split second before the Water Ghost dissolved, it had left behind a small object emitting a weak glow.

Qin Lu was not one to leave loot behind.

He slapped a [Water Avoidance Talisman] onto his chest to keep his robes dry and plunged into the churning river with a soft plop.

Navigating the murky depths, he quickly located the source of the light on the riverbed.

It was a bead—smooth, snow-white, and about the size of a pill, yet distinct in texture.

What is this? Qin Lu mused, holding it up to the filtered sunlight. It’s teeming with resentful energy. Definitely not something to swallow.

I’ve never seen anything like it, but it feels valuable.

I’ll have to find a Master Artificer to appraise it when we reach the city.

Unsure of its function, he stowed it away.

Now he had two unidentified oddities in his storage artifact: this white bead, and the [White Tallow Purifying Bottle] Wei Zimo had gifted him. Both were items beyond his current breadth of knowledge.

Treasure secured, Qin Lu shot up from the riverbed, breaking the surface in a spray of droplets.

“Brother Qin, is everything alright?” Gu Can flew over immediately, concern on his face.

“Fine. Just retrieved a small trophy,” Qin Lu said succinctly.

He didn’t elaborate. Instead, he flew back to the riverbank and landed before the elderly village elder. His voice was projected with Qi, ensuring every villager could hear him clearly.

“The Water Ghost has been executed. You need not live in fear.”

He gestured to the river. “The creature was absorbing the spiritual Qi of the water to cultivate, which caused the drought. With the beast dead, the river’s flow will restore itself within days. You may continue your lives here in peace.”

The elder’s face flushed with ecstatic joy, a sentiment mirrored by the crowd behind him. The terror of the morning had been replaced by reverent awe.

They had no reason to doubt him. The memory of the river standing still, cut in half by a god-like strike, was etched into their minds forever.

Qin Lu glanced at the two children. They had stopped crying and were looking around with bright, relieved eyes.

Good, he thought. They’ll recover.

A rare sense of altruistic pride swelled in his chest. He didn’t let it show, however. Without another word, he waved his hand, wrapping the elderly guide in spiritual energy, and soared back to the spirit boat.

He left them with only a dashing silhouette against the sky.

On the banks of the Peace River, the mortals remained kneeling, kowtowing repeatedly toward the departing vessel long after it had become a speck in the distance.

With a simple act of violence, Qin Lu had birthed a legend.

Centuries later, the locals would still tell the tale of the immortal who descended from the heavens to sever the river and slay the demon.

But that, of course, is a story for another time.