Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 265: Sect Opening Ceremony

Crackle! Pop! Boom!

A deafening cascade of firecrackers shattered the morning silence, signaling the official commencement of the Raging Waves Sect’s grand Opening Ceremony.

Qin Lu had been ushered early to a raised VIP platform overlooking the main plaza.

This exclusive vantage point was reserved for the heavyweights. Over a dozen Foundation Establishment cultivators sat at individual low tables laden with spirit fruits, rare teas, and exquisite pastries. From here, they could survey the entire sect grounds with a sense of detached superiority.

As the smoke from the firecrackers cleared, a ceremonial herald stepped forward, his voice amplified by spiritual energy to boom across the crowd.

“Headmaster Wei Yongyuan of the Divine Fire Sect presents: Three vials of Middle Grade Tier-2 [Windwalk Pills]!”

“Headmaster Miao Gang of the Golden Feather Sect presents: Two stalks of three-hundred-year-old [Summer Withered Grass]!”

“Elder Hua Zhuo of the Demon Slaying Sect presents: Three complete skulls of the Tier-2 Late Stage Demon Beast, the [Ironback Bear]!”

“Sect Master Qin Lu of the Qin Sect presents: One Low Grade Tier-2 Magical Artifact, the [Five Elements Gathering Furnace]!”

…

The herald continued down the list, his voice ringing with practiced cadence.

Qin Lu sat calmly as his gift was announced. The alchemy furnace had cost him a solid 2,000 Spirit Stones at a specialty artifact shop. It was a substantial sum, ensuring his gift was dignified and appropriate for his status without being ostensibly flashy.

As the list of exotic treasures from the Foundation Establishment guests grew, waves of hushed gasps rippled through the gathered crowd of Qi Condensation cultivators below. To them, any single item on that list represented a fortune they could only dream of.

Eventually, the reading of the gift list concluded.

“The Raging Waves Sect offers its deepest gratitude to all Seniors for their presence…” The herald paused, straightened his robes, and raised his voice to a crescendo. “The auspicious hour has arrived! We invite the Headmaster to ascend the platform and deliver the Dao Sermon!”

On cue, Zou Chang flew out from the main hall.

Dressed in magnificent ceremonial robes, he moved with an ethereal grace, descending gently onto the central dais in the middle of the square. He looked out at the dozens of prospective disciples standing in formation below, his rugged face glowing with undisguised joy.

He sat cross-legged and began to speak.

“Today, the Raging Waves Sect is officially established! I, Zou Chang, have spent half a lifetime drifting, weathering wind and rain, enduring countless hardships. To finally secure a place to call my own… truly, my heart is filled with a thousand emotions.”

“I was but a child when a passing immortal master bestowed a technique upon me, setting my foot upon the path of cultivation. Eighty years have passed since that day…”

It was the standard opening address for a sect founder—part autobiography, part inspirational speech.

The square fell into a respectful silence. The low-level cultivators listened with rapt attention as Zou Chang recounted the bitterness of his journey and his insights into the Dao. For the young ones, hearing the personal philosophy of a Foundation Establishment expert was a rare opportunity.

Zou Chang spoke for a full hour, concluding with his vision for the sect and his expectations for the new generation.

“Let the disciples come forward for the Induction Ceremony!” the herald announced.

Over 40 young men and women stepped out from the crowd. They approached the dais and knelt in unison, performing the solemn three-kowtow ritual to Zou Chang. These were the seedlings Zou Chang had scouted over the years, and today, he officially gathered them under his wing.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

As the disciples rose, ceremonial spirit cannons fired into the sky, the concussive blasts pushing the celebratory atmosphere to its peak.

Formalities concluded, Zou Chang leaped from the dais and flew up to the VIP platform to join his peers.

“Congratulations, Headmaster Zou!”

“A fine ceremony!”

“May the Raging Waves Sect prosper for a thousand years!”

The Foundation Establishment cultivators rose to offer their well-wishes.

“Hahaha! Thank you all for your support!” Zou Chang laughed heartily, his voice booming. “I hope we can all aid one another in the years to come!”

While the heavyweights exchanged pleasantries, the entertainment for the masses began below. The central plaza was cleared, revealing several combat arenas.

The disciples’ tournament had begun.

From their high vantage point, the elders watched the first pair of youths clash swords.

“Aiya,” a white-bearded cultivator sighed theatrically, stroking his chin. “Seeing the vigor of Fellow Daoist Zou’s event, I fear the juniors I brought along have no destiny with the championship today.”

“Oh? Fellow Daoist Yu, surely you jest,” another cultivator replied with a knowing smirk. “I recall your disciples are already at the late Qi Condensation stage. How can you say they have no chance?”

“Bah! Those rascals?” Old Yu waved a dismissive hand. “They never cultivate seriously. Half-baked, every one of them. They don’t stand a chance!”

“Hehe. Looking at that smile on your face, Fellow Daoist Yu, it doesn’t look like you’re complaining. You look quite pleased with them…”

“Don’t listen to Old Yu blow hot air! Personally, I think the young Daoist couple from Fellow Daoist Wei’s sect are the dark horses here.”

“Oh, Fellow Daoist Feng, you flatter me,” Wei Yongyuan chuckled, shaking his head. “I know my lot. If they can pick up a few combat tips today, I’ll be satisfied. We aren’t even dreaming of victory!”

“Fellow Daoist Wei is too modest…”

The group of powerful cultivators continued to exchange “humble” remarks, praising each other while ostensibly putting down their own students.

On the surface, they appeared amiable, as if the outcome of the tournament meant nothing. But the glint in their eyes betrayed them. They cared deeply. If their disciples dominated the arena, it would be a massive boost to their own prestige.

Qin Lu, however, did not share this competitive spirit.

He sat back, munching on a spirit fruit, watching the fights with the casual detachment of a theatergoer. He knew exactly where his three stood.

Not a single one of them was at the late Qi Condensation stage. Winning against the carefully groomed elites of these established sects was a pipe dream.

But given his recent fame, he couldn’t stay out of the spotlight forever.

“Tell us, Fellow Daoist Qin,” a cultivator asked with a friendly smile, turning the attention to him. “How far do you expect your three disciples to go?”

Qin Lu lowered his fruit and wiped his hands. He decided to be honest.

“They will likely be eliminated in the first round.”

The smile froze on the cultivator’s face. “Ah? Why would Sect Master Qin say such a thing? With strength as formidable as yours, surely your disciples must be dragons among men…”

“Uh…”

Qin Lu found himself at a loss for words.

It was a logical assumption for them to make: Strong Master, Strong Disciples.

But the reality of the “Qin Sect” was… complicated. Although the three were technically his people, their cultivation was a mess. They practiced different techniques, used mismatched artifacts, and fought with zero coordination.

They didn’t look like a sect; they looked like a pickup group.

Qin Lu had adopted a completely hands-off approach to their training. Unless they specifically asked for guidance, he let them figure it out themselves. He was a landlord and a protector, not a teacher.

“My personal strength does not automatically transfer to them,” Qin Lu finally said, offering a vague explanation.

But the question lingered in his mind.

I might need to change my approach, he thought with an internal sigh. If I’m going to call this a Sect, they can’t be this embarrassing.

As he pondered this, the announcer’s voice rang out below.

It was Feng Xi’s turn to take the stage.