Chapter Twenty-Five: The Duel of Spells

Ge Qian controlled the flames as the pill furnace trembled and slowly rotated. He began the process of melting the ingredients, carefully managing the heat, and from time to time, he tossed drops of the water spiritual liquid transformed from the tender sprout in his dantian into the furnace to prevent the loss of water spiritual power.

In one hand, he gripped a spirit stone, drawing spiritual energy from it ceaselessly; otherwise, how could he endure for so long?

The melting process alone took three days. When Ge Qian felt it was about right, he ended the melting phase and began to shape the pills, casting several incantations in succession. The furnace shuddered and spat out ten pills.

Ge Qian furrowed his brow. Three of the pills were crystal clear and exuded a strong, fresh aura of water spiritual energy. According to the pill recipe, these were undoubtedly Water Spirit Pills, but the rest were failed and wasted.

He stored the three Water Spirit Pills and put the failed pills, which were now highly toxic, into the Demon Gourd. Though the pills were ruined, their poison was a great supplement for the Demon Gourd.

Ge Qian had already prepared himself mentally for this and was not troubled. He packed up, put on a fresh set of clothes, crouched low, and surged against the current, leaping into the waterfall curtain. Riding the flow, he burst into the air, flipped nimbly to the ground, and then used the Wind Command to hurry back to the herb garden.

As he sped along, he practiced the three magical techniques and tumbled several times along the way. Upon returning to the garden, he immediately began to harvest spiritual herbs. Thanks to his preparation, he finished quickly.

The little fox stopped him and wrote: This is pilfering from your own post. If Elder Cui discovers this, your life won't be spared, and don’t drag me down with you. I advise you to return the herbs instead.

Ge Qian smiled slightly and said, “Thank you for your concern, but I have no other choice. I must do this. If I succeed this time, the benefits to me will be immense. Elder Cui is in seclusion, attempting to break through the Foundation Establishment bottleneck—it could be five or six years, maybe more than ten. By the time he emerges, my wealth will be abundant and I’ll have replaced the herbs. There’s no need to worry.

To accomplish great things, one must be willing to take risks. Just watch over the garden well; you won’t be forgotten when it comes time for rewards!”

With that, Ge Qian hurried away. The little fox, Mei Die, thought to herself, this boy is both bold and meticulous. He’s already cultivated the Mountain Shifting Technique to the Mortal Shedding stage. How could a supposed good-for-nothing progress so rapidly? Truly, every being has its strengths. The faster you cultivate, the sooner you’ll be stuck at Foundation Establishment’s bottleneck, and then surely you’ll go to Myriad Demon Mountain.

Ge Qian returned to the cave behind the waterfall and immediately resumed refining pills without pause.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, seven days passed. Ge Qian changed his incantation, the furnace shuddered, and ten pills shot out—this time, four of them radiated a tempting water spiritual energy.

Ge Qian nodded in satisfaction—he had made progress, producing one more than before, making seven in all. After setting aside those for Hongmei, he still had two left for himself.

Next, considering that Hongmei had been instructed by Lü Xin to plot against him, he knew a direct confrontation would be unfavorable. After much thought, he decided to play along and bide his time, waiting until his strength increased to take revenge. A gentleman’s revenge is never too late, after all.

When Ge Qian emerged from the waterfall, night had already fallen. He took a detour, hoping for a stroke of luck and to find a few spirit herbs.

Luck was not on his side tonight; half the journey was behind him, and he’d found nothing.

Suddenly, sounds of a magical duel and cheers erupted from the dense forest ahead. Ge Qian was about to take another route when someone barked, “Stop! Where are you going?”

A red-faced cultivator at the fifth level of Qi Condensation blocked his path.

Ge Qian hurriedly cupped his fists and said, “Senior brother, I was out during the day and got lost, so I’m late returning. Might you guide me back?”

“So it’s Ge Qian! I wondered who it was. I actually admire you—knowing the path of cultivation is hopeless, yet you persist. If it were me, I’d have left for the mundane world long ago to enjoy wealth and splendor. Since you’re here, why not join Senior Brother Ma Jun’s side and go cheer for him up ahead?” The red-faced cultivator was named Ma Shu.

Uncertain of the situation, Ge Qian asked for clarification; choosing the wrong side could be fatal. He asked, “Who is dueling Senior Brother Ma?”

Ma Shu replied, “It’s Senior Brother Ma Jun fighting that reckless Feng Lìlín from the Feng family. He dares to steal Ma Jun’s thunder, so of course Ma Jun won’t let him off lightly. This duel will teach him a lesson. We’re all here to support Senior Brother Ma.”

Ge Qian’s eyes flashed with understanding—Ma Jun was the son of Elder Ma, who was a disciple of Patriarch Qingyun. Feng Lìlín, on the other hand, was under Patriarch Lü Sitong, making him Lü Xin’s grandfather’s disciple. That meant they were enemies, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

He said, “I have always admired Senior Brother Ma Jun and am happy to lend my support. How many people are on each side?”

Ma Shu answered, “Feng Lìlín thinks himself strong and came alone. Ma Jun brought the three of us to teach him a lesson and make sure he stays in bed for a few days. You stay here and keep watch—if anyone comes, alert me at once, understood?” With that, Ma Shu dashed into the grove.

Ge Qian agreed enthusiastically, “Don’t worry, senior brother, I’ve got it covered!”

Ma Jun was much favored in the Ma family and, though still young, was already at the sixth level of Qi Condensation with an earth spiritual root. This duel was over a first-rank demon beast they had both killed and neither wished to yield. Knowing he was not an even match, Ma Jun brought his loyal followers for revenge.

Magical duels between cultivators were a rare sight. Ge Qian crept into the woods, hid behind a tree, and activated his Heavenly Eye to observe closely.

Ma Jun, slender with a boyish face, wielded a mid-grade magic weapon, the Earth Spirit Staff, which radiated an earthen glow as he drove it up and down, sweeping and smashing at Feng Lìlín.

Three other cultivators manipulated flying swords, circling and harassing, seizing any chance to strike.

Feng Lìlín’s face was full of confidence. He was short and delicate-looking, controlling two mid-grade fire hook artifacts that radiated intense heat and cast flickering red light as they clashed with their opponents in midair.

Surprisingly, his fire hooks were a rare set, their combined power truly extraordinary. He fought four magic weapons without falling behind. But controlling a set of weapons required tremendous spiritual sense, which most cultivators lacked.

Feng Lìlín laughed loudly, “Ma Jun, you and your lot are nothing but rice buckets. Four of you can’t handle me, and now you have a second-level Qi Condensation weakling lying in wait. Planning to ambush me?”

Ma Shu shouted, “Feng Lìlín’s spiritual sense is indeed strong—he’s even noticed Ge Qian during the fight!”

Ma Jun flew into a rage, “Hit him hard, don’t hold back!”

The others responded with renewed vigor, their magic weapons shining brighter as they pressed their attacks on Feng Lìlín.

Feng Lìlín bellowed, “Good! Let me show you the true power of my Fire Spirit Hooks!” With a shift of his spell, the flames on the hooks flared to seven feet long. His face paled, clearly strained by the technique.

Ge Qian watched the duel intently, memorizing every detail. Magic weapons truly were extraordinary—capable, they said, of killing from a thousand miles away. He resolved to cultivate diligently and strive to command such weapons himself one day.

The outcome soon became clear: Feng Lìlín gained the upper hand. When his fire hooks touched the opponents’ weapons, the others paled, and the glow of their weapons dimmed noticeably—obvious evidence of the spiritual connection between master and artifact.

The story continues in chapter twenty-five of "Mortal’s Road to Immortality."