Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 232: The Grand Cultivation City

Qin Lu stood upon the Silver Sand Sword, his figure cutting through the high-altitude winds.

To his left, a black-robed cultivator appeared on the horizon, mirroring his speed. To his right, three distant specks grew larger, revealing themselves to be a trio of travel-worn cultivators.

Qin Lu exhaled softly, his shoulders relaxing.

“The traffic is picking up,” he mused. “We must be close.”

It had been twenty days since he left White Jade Market. Ever since the incident with Wei Zimo, the journey had been surprisingly peaceful. No bandits, no rogue cultivators, and barely a Demon Beast in sight.

He had crossed the heart of Flowing Cloud Prefecture without drawing his sword once.

“Let’s see what a ‘Grand Cultivation City’ really looks like.”

With a flicker of anticipation, Qin Lu accelerated.

As he flew, the sky became increasingly crowded. Cultivators zipped past in all directions—some solo on swords or artifacts, others in groups. Occasionally, the deep, resonant hum of a massive Spirit Boat would vibrate through the air as it lumbered past like a sky-whale, casting a shadow over the clouds.

It was a spectacular sight, a bustling highway in the heavens that made the traffic around Wuji Market look like a country lane.

“Worthy of its reputation,” Qin Lu thought, impressed. “The sheer volume of high-level cultivators here is staggering. If there’s a cure for Gu Can anywhere, it’s here.”

A few miles later, the density of flying artifacts became almost suffocating, resembling a swarm of locusts. And then, through the haze, Shuntian City revealed itself.

It was colossal.

The city sprawled across the landscape like a sleeping dragon, its walls winding along the ridges and valleys of the mountain range for miles. A pale blue light curtain—a massive defensive formation—shimmered over the metropolis, blurring the details of the interior.

Surrounding the main city was a vast, orderly sprawl of mortal settlements, covering tens of thousands of acres. Even from this height, the faint roar of daily life—gongs, drums, shouting—drifted up like heat waves.

“Magnificent,” Qin Lu whispered, feeling a rare sense of insignificance.

He guided the Silver Sand Sword down, passing over the mortal districts and landing gently near the main city gate.

A long queue had formed. Cultivators of all ages and backgrounds stood in line: bright-eyed children clutching their parents’ hands, arrogant youths with chins held high, weathered veterans with scars on their faces, and stooped elders with eyes full of wisdom.

The air buzzed with excited chatter.

Qin Lu joined the back of the line, blending in.

Curious, he activated the [Heavenly Eye Technique]. An invisible wave of spiritual perception rippled out, covering a two-mile radius.

The feedback was startling.

“Tsk. In a line of just a few hundred people, there are over twenty Foundation Establishment cultivators,” he noted. “And the rest are mostly mid-to-late Qi Condensation. No weaklings here.”

His gaze swept over the crowd until it snagged on a specific aura.

“Hmm? A Heavenly Spiritual Root?”

Since maximizing the [Heavenly Eye Technique], Qin Lu could now perceive the innate potential of others. He had only seen a Heavenly Spiritual Root once before—on Xiao Ziyun.

This one was Fire Affinity.

He traced the aura to a woman standing a dozen zhang away.

She was stunning. Dressed in crimson robes that hugged a curvaceous figure, she possessed fair skin, long legs, and a face that could launch a thousand ships. But it wasn’t just her beauty; every movement she made exuded a natural, almost hypnotic enchantment.

Surrounding her were three handsome young men in expensive brocade robes. They hovered around her like moths to a flame, their postures upright but their eyes filled with ingratiating adoration.

“Beautiful, talented, and dangerous,” Qin Lu assessed. “Late-stage Foundation Establishment and a Heavenly Spiritual Root. No wonder she has an entourage.”

The woman laughed at something one of the men said, her cherry-red lips parting slightly. It was a sound that made heads turn all along the line.

“Top tier,” Qin Lu admitted to himself. “Easily top three of all the women I’ve ever seen.”

Suddenly, the woman stopped laughing. Her head snapped around, her gaze locking directly onto Qin Lu.

Caught.

Qin Lu averted his eyes instantly, feigning disinterest as he inspected the stitching on his sleeve.

He knew the type. Women like her were walking calamities. Getting involved meant dealing with jealous suitors, sect politics, and endless drama. He was here to find a cure, not trouble.

“What’s wrong, Yan’er?” one of the handsome men asked, following her gaze.

“Haha, nothing,” the woman—Yan’er—replied, a playful smile touching her lips. “I just felt someone prying. It was faint.”

“Prying?!” Another suitor bristled, glaring at the crowd. He pointed a finger at Qin Lu, who was studiously ignoring them. “Was it that old fellow?! How dare he!”

“Eh~ It wasn’t him~”

Yan’er chuckled, her voice like wind chimes. She cast one last, lingering glance at Qin Lu before turning back to her admirers.

“The feeling was very subtle. Maybe I’m just being sensitive. Come on, Senior Brothers, let’s go inside~”

“Of course! Whatever Junior Sister Yan’er says!” “Yes! We listen only to you!” “Hey, Young Master Zhao, back off. I’m Junior Sister’s favorite assistant!” “Dream on, Brother Li!”

“Hehe~”

Yan’er covered her mouth and laughed again. The sound seemed to strip the aggression right out of the three men, leaving them staring at her with glazed, adoration-filled eyes.

Qin Lu, watching from the corner of his eye, shivered slightly.

Definitely dangerous.