Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 253: Reputation Spreads Far and Wide

Dragon Tiger Market.

The streets were choked with Loose Cultivators in tattered cultivation robes, their faces etched with the exhaustion of merely surviving in a ruthless world. Yet, human nature always finds a way to endure. No matter how harsh the environment, there were always those who chose to cast aside their anxieties, loosen their shoulders, and drown their worldly sorrows in a cup of wine.

Who cares about the world’s myriad affairs? In leisure, let out a light laugh or two.

Inside a packed, raucous tavern, the air was thick with the smell of roasted meat and the sharp tang of cheap liquor. Every table was full, and the sound of clinking cups and boisterous laughter echoed off the walls.

At the center of the room sat a raised wooden platform. A white-bearded old man perched on a chair, holding a smooth wooden block.

Thwack!

He slammed the block onto the table. The sharp crack cut through the din, drawing the eyes of every diner in the room.

When they saw the white-bearded elder, a collective hum of anticipation swept through the crowd. This was the tavern’s main attraction: a resident storyteller hired to spin legendary tales of the cultivation world, a perfect pairing for a hot meal and cold wine.

“Greetings, Fellow Daoists!” the white-bearded old man’s voice boomed. “It is time once again for this old man to share an hour of grand tales with you all. But today…” He paused, a sly smile wrinkling his face. “Today, we will not be continuing the saga of Senior Yuan Hongwu.”

The tavern instantly erupted in protests.

“Why the hell not?!” a burly man shouted. “I came here specifically to hear about Senior Yuan’s exploits! You can’t just drop the story!”

“Exactly! Don’t go changing the program randomly, Old Man Zhang!”

“What’s the big idea?!”

The sudden switch in programming had the crowd restless and irritated. However, the storyteller seemed to have anticipated this exact reaction. Unfazed, he stroked his white beard and chuckled.

“Peace, everyone, do not get excited. Today is a special day. It is the release day of the biennial Nine Truths Langya List. Therefore, we will be discussing the most thrilling events across the Nine Truths Region over the past two years, as recorded by Senior Zhuge. Tomorrow, I promise, we will return to Yuan Hongwu.”

The words worked like magic. The angry shouts died in the callers’ throats, replaced by wide eyes and expressions of intense eagerness. The Nine Truths Langya List was the ultimate authority on the region’s power dynamics and greatest battles; every Loose Cultivator lived for its release.

Satisfied with the sudden silence, Old Man Zhang cleared his throat and projected his voice across the room.

“As everyone knows, the Nine Truths Langya List chronicles the major events of our world. Naturally, the great war between the Wuji Sect and the Dragon Tiger Sect has earned its place in these pages. Today, we begin there…”

The tavern grew so quiet that one could hear a pin drop. The storyteller painted a chillingly detached picture of the brutal conflict. Because the war involved multiple Golden Core factions, it had not been a swift victory. He described the shifting tides of battle, the sudden ambushes, and the volatile, unpredictable nature of a war where no one knew who would emerge the victor until the very end.

In a dark corner of the tavern, the vivid narration caused two specific patrons to stop eating.

One was a heavily built young man with a rugged face. He raised his wine cup, downed it in a single gulp, and let out a heavy sigh. “Brother Wen, hearing it all laid out like that… it really hits home just how lucky we are to be alive.”

“You’re telling me,” replied his companion, a middle-aged cultivator with a mangled, disabled hand. He shuddered, the relief of a survivor evident in his voice. “When they besieged the Wuji Market, I hid in a latrine burrow for two days. Thank the heavens I wasn’t found, and that we surrendered when we did. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be sitting here drinking right now.”

Both men sighed, clinking their cups together in a toast to their own miserable, incredible luck.

If Qin Lu had been standing in the tavern, he would have recognized them instantly. The burly young man was his former creditor, Fang Hu. The middle-aged man with the ruined hand was his former backstabbing ‘friend’, Chen Wen.

The two had bonded over their shared gambling addiction and eventually formed a loose camaraderie. Today, they had both won a few meager Spirit Stones at the local den and decided to treat themselves to a drink.

While the two men reminisced about their survival, the storyteller on the platform shifted to a new topic.

“Moving on from the Golden Core war,” Old Man Zhang said, looking down at the freshly printed book in his hands. “In the territory of the Demon Slaying Sect, a massive siege was launched by evil cultivators. However, the Nine Truths Region’s number one genius, Su Hao, happened to be traveling through the area. With a single slash of his blade, he annihilated the evil vanguard, saving the market from utter destruction!”

A wave of awed murmurs washed over the crowd.

“Su Hao? He was in our region?”

“Incredible… to wipe out so many evil cultivators with one move. Is he at the late Foundation Establishment stage now?”

“He has to be! Remember, once you hit the Golden Core realm, your name is removed from the Prodigy List. Is he still ranked number one this cycle?”

Su Hao’s name dominated the room, every whisper tinged with deep reverence.

“That kid is an absolute monster,” Fang Hu muttered, shaking his head.

“No kidding. You don’t get called the number one genius of the Nine Truths Region for nothing,” Chen Wen agreed with a chuckle.

On the platform, Old Man Zhang raised his hand for silence. “Now, onto a different battlefield! This one involved a meticulous conspiracy orchestrated by a vicious man known as the Blood Demon. He amassed an army of evil cultivators and blood cultivators, and even summoned a horde of Demon Beasts to shatter a market’s defensive arrays…”

The crowd leaned in, captivated by the sheer scale of the threat.

“…In the end, when the arrays fell and the cultivators fled, a single man stood his ground. Using his formidable strength, he bottlenecked the evil army, halting their battle formation and buying precious time for the innocent to escape…”

Old Man Zhang paused for dramatic effect, leaning over the podium. “And it is said this man fought with such suicidal ferocity all for the sake of a female cultivator named Gu Yue. Ah, the sheer passion of youth! This heroic cultivator’s name is…”

The storyteller squinted at the page, blinking as if he had misread the characters. He stuttered, “His name… is Qin… Qin Lu!”

Dead silence fell over the tavern.

Everyone stared blankly at the storyteller.

In the corner booth, Fang Hu and Chen Wen froze completely. Their chopsticks hovered mid-air, a piece of roasted meat slipping from Chen Wen’s grip to hit the table with a soft splat.

“Qin Lu?!”

A Loose Cultivator near the front suddenly jumped out of his seat. “Wait a minute! Isn’t that Qin Big Mouth’s real name?!”

Total chaos erupted.

“It is him! He ran off to the White Jade Market! No wonder no one has seen him around here! But how in the hell could he block an army of evil cultivators?!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” another man yelled over the din, frantically doing the math. “I remember him! He was a low-level Qi Condensation nobody! How the hell did he reach Foundation Establishment?!”

“This doesn’t make any sense!!”

The tavern devolved into a shouting match of shock, disbelief, and wild speculation.

But out of everyone in the room, Fang Hu and Chen Wen’s reactions were by far the most exaggerated. The two men sat entirely paralyzed, their jaws dropped so wide you could easily stuff an egg into their mouths.