Spells Grinding: From Basic Sparks to Divine Arts

Chapter 264: Cannot Lose Face

Feng Xi shoveled food into her mouth, her eyes alight with pure, unadulterated bliss.

The banquet prepared by the Raging Waves Sect for tonight’s festivities had exceeded her wildest expectations. Every dish was a delicacy, the kind of “absolute flavor” she could never hope to find in the rough stalls of a marketplace.

Beside her, Cao Mo and Wu Zhengtian were engaged in a similar frenzy of consumption. The three of them ate with a singular focus, completely ignoring the thick tension radiating from the two groups of cultivators sharing their table.

They didn’t care about world affairs. They only cared about the roast meat.

However, Feng Xi was well aware of why the atmosphere was so toxic.

Their tablemates belonged to two rival factions: the Golden Feather Sect and the Gathering Star Sect. The source of their hostility was the main event of the Sect Opening Ceremony—the Grand Arena Tournament.

Headmaster Zou Chang, wanting to make the ceremony more entertaining, had organized an open-entry combat tournament. Any sect attending the ceremony could send disciples to participate, with no limit on the number of entrants.

The prize for victory was a “Five-Treasure Set” personally prepared by Zou Chang: a flying vessel, an offensive magical artifact, a protective robe, high-grade healing pills, and a secret cultivation manual.

It was a fortune that any Qi Condensation cultivator would kill for. Naturally, it bred conflict.

The disciples at this table represented the favorites to win. Between the high stakes, old grudges, and the Raging Waves Sect’s questionable seating arrangements, the table was a powder keg.

The moment they sat down, the sparks began to fly.

“Hmph! You lot truly don’t know the immensity of heaven and earth,” a young cultivator from the Golden Feather Sect on the left sneered, his face twisted in disdain. “With your meager skills, you actually dare to cross hands with us?”

“Ha! What a joke,” a disciple from the Gathering Star Sect on the right retorted instantly. “Everyone knows the Golden Feather Sect is all flashy feathers and no meat. Exterior strength, hollow center. Kid, I could crush you with one hand!”

“You dare say that again?!”

“I said it! What are you going to do about it?”

“…”

The insults escalated rapidly, the air growing heavy with killing intent. Even Feng Xi, deep in her culinary trance, felt a twinge of nervousness.

She wasn’t afraid of them fighting. She was afraid they would flip the table and ruin the food.

“Eat faster!” Feng Xi hissed.

Seeing the argument reaching a boiling point, she accelerated her eating speed. Cao Mo and Wu Zhengtian, sensing the same danger, matched her pace. The three of them became a blur of chopsticks and chewing.

“Gathering Star Sect, you lost last time. Eager for another humiliation?”

“Bullshit! You only won because you used underhanded tricks!”

“Hahaha! Against weaklings like you, we don’t need tricks. You flatter yourselves…”

“Argh! You go too far! Get them!”

A furious roar shattered the tension.

Bang!

The table was flipped.

Food went flying, and cultivators from both sides lunged forward, spiritual energy flaring as they entered combat mode. The scene descended into instant chaos.

Disciples from other sects at nearby tables reacted with practiced ease, grabbing their wine jars and backing away to watch the show from a safe distance, smiles on their faces.

But the three disciples of the Qin Sect were faster.

The instant the table edge lifted, they had already vanished, retreating to the periphery with the speed of greased lightning.

Safe on the sidelines, Feng Xi wiped a smear of sauce from her lips, looking at the overturned table with genuine heartache.

“What a waste,” she sighed. “Why can’t people just eat in peace?”

Years ago, when Feng Xi was a mortal, a locust plague had devastated her homeland. She had survived by gnawing on tree roots, bark, and even mud. That trauma had carved a deep sensitivity to food into her soul. To see a feast ruined was, to her, a sin.

“Hey, hey,” Wu Zhengtian whispered, nudging them. “Look. They’re actually pretty strong. I don’t think we’re a match for them.”

In the center of the hall, the brawl was intense. Figures leaped and flipped, fists colliding with the dull thud of heavy impacts. Their combat prowess was significantly higher than the average loose cultivator.

Fortunately, both sides knew the gravity of the occasion. No one drew weapons or activated lethal artifacts; it was strictly a brawl of fists and kicks. It looked fierce, but no one was dying today.

“Xiao Bai,” Cao Mo, the chubby disciple, asked with a teasing grin. “You eyeing that champion’s reward?”

“Is that a rhetorical question? Of course I am,” Wu Zhengtian replied, spreading his hands. “But let’s be real. My strength is what it is. There’s no hope.”

“He’s right,” Feng Xi agreed, her expression sobering. “We’re only at the mid-stage of Qi Condensation. Look at those guys—they’re all late-stage. The gap is too big.”

Since joining Qin Lu, Feng Xi had cultivated diligently and reached the fifth layer of Qi Condensation. Cao Mo and Wu Zhengtian were at the sixth layer. But against well-trained disciples at the seventh layer or higher, they were at a severe disadvantage.

“Aiyaya, why so defeatist?” Cao Mo jiggled the flesh on his cheeks, his eyes gleaming. “No chance? I think there is a chance.”

Feng Xi blinked. “What chance?”

“Who says a mid-stage cultivator can’t beat a late-stage one?” Cao Mo smiled mysteriously.

“It’s theoretically possible, sure, but it’s too hard for us,” Wu Zhengtian said, looking conflicted. “We have average aptitude and no special bloodlines. If we were fighting loose cultivators, maybe. But these are sect elites with proper inheritances.”

It was an uphill battle on a cliff face.

“That’s true,” Cao Mo said, his voice suddenly dropping an octave, filled with intensity. “But have you forgotten our Master? Have you forgotten how Headmaster Qin fought? He crushed mid-stage Foundation Establishment experts when he was only at the early stage! As disciples of the Qin Sect, we have to strive for that standard! At the very least… we cannot lose face for the Qin Sect!”

Feng Xi’s expression froze. The gluttonous gleam in her eyes was replaced by a sharp, solemn light.

She nodded slowly. “You’re right, Fatty. We cannot be an embarrassment.”

In front of all these major sects, their performance wasn’t just about them. It was a reflection of Qin Lu. If they were beaten like dogs in the first round, it would be a slap in the face to their Lord.

Feng Xi refused to let that happen.

“Let’s go.”

Feng Xi turned abruptly, losing all interest in the spectacle before her.

“What? Where to?” Cao Mo and Wu Zhengtian were startled.

“Back to the room,” Feng Xi said, clenching her small fist. “We need to analyze their moves and come up with a strategy. We… we have to win.”

Cao Mo and Wu Zhengtian exchanged a glance.

Then, they both grinned.

“Makes sense! Let’s go brainstorm.”

The three disciples of the Qin Sect turned their backs on the lively brawl and marched out of the hall, heading toward their guest quarters.

Behind them, the crowd continued to cheer and jeer.

But Feng Xi and her companions were no longer spectators. They were plotting. They had to figure out how to steal the spotlight in the upcoming tournament. Even if they couldn’t take the championship, they had to fight in a way that proved the Qin Sect was not to be trifled with.

For Qin Lu’s sake, they could not lose face.