Chapter 61: The Water Arrow Spell

"It's the Water Arrow Rune!" Mo Ling had not noticed the ancient painting in Ye Mo's hand; her attention was first drawn to the spiritual wooden box.

She opened the box, and upon seeing the two perfectly intact spheres of light inside, she exclaimed with delight, "Brother Ye, now that you've become an immortal cultivator, you can practice this Water Arrow Rune. However, it will probably take some time to master it."

"Mo Ling, I'll start training in the Water Arrow technique right away. The captives' situation may be dire. Go inform Gao Jian and Lin Zhi, have them support the captives on the deck and try to buy us more time!"

Ye Mo nodded, giving his instructions.

"Alright, Brother Ye, you focus on your cultivation here. I'll go join up with Brother Gao and the others." Understanding the urgency, Mo Ling turned and hurried out of the room.

"Wait! Take this iron sword with you," Ye Mo called after her, handing over the weapon.

"Understood." Mo Ling accepted the sword and quickly left.

"The Water Arrow Rune Seal— a low-level water-element technique," Ye Mo murmured as he opened one of the spiritual wooden boxes, carefully examining the azure sphere of light inside.

The orb was crystal clear, its surface covered by nearly a hundred mysterious runes that dazzled Ye Mo's eyes.

"What are these runes? They don't look like any writing I've seen. How am I supposed to train this?" he wondered, staring at the azure sphere, unable to recognize a single symbol or figure out how to proceed. He could only gaze at the glowing sphere in frustration.

Moreover, as far as he knew, cultivating spells required the corresponding spiritual root. "If I don't have a water spiritual root... will I be unable to learn it?"

Recalling the ancient cultivating manual left by Li Zhao, Ye Mo hurriedly flipped through it, searching for the basics of spell cultivation.

Soon, he found a passage explaining how to learn a spell: it was very simple— just touch the rune sphere with one's hand. However, this only worked for immortal cultivators; mere martial artists would elicit no reaction.

"So that's all it takes to practice a spell?" Ye Mo was surprised.

Time was pressing. The longer he lingered here, the more his companions and the other captives on deck would suffer.

Ye Mo placed his finger lightly upon the azure sphere.

With a soft whoosh, the blue orb instantly entered his body, appearing beside his nascent soul in the Mud Pill Palace.

His tiny, bean-sized nascent soul seemed to grow excited at the arrival of the azure sphere. As his divine sense touched the sphere, the runes shifted rapidly, transforming into a water arrow. Some faint connection formed between his nascent soul and the water arrow.

"Does this mean I've succeeded?" he wondered.

Now, beside his nascent soul floated a blue "water arrow," translucent and dim, suspended quietly in the darkness of his sea of consciousness, emitting gentle waves of light.

This faint bluish glow added a further air of mystery to the long-dark Mud Pill Palace.

"Next, I need to try casting this powerful 'Water Arrow Technique.'"

With the slightest movement of his divine sense, Ye Mo felt the mysterious power contained within the little water arrow.

He extended a wisp of spiritual consciousness from his nascent soul, making contact with the rune seal floating quietly in the Mud Pill Palace.

As soon as his divine sense touched the Water Arrow rune, it flared with a gentle radiance.

"It's a bit chilly— is this the power of the water element?" Ye Mo soon felt a stream of cold, damp energy surging in his palm. At the same time, a faint, pure essence was drawn from his meridians.

Casting spells required spiritual power.

Was this pure essence his spiritual power?

Ye Mo pondered.

In less than a single breath, a mist of spiritual water formed in his palm.

Before he could condense it into a water arrow, the mist dissipated chaotically.

"The Water Arrow didn't form! Let's try again."

Unperturbed, Ye Mo split his divine sense once more, focusing on the translucent rune seal.

This time, he drew out five times as much spiritual power as before, and the condensation was clearly much improved.

Above his palm, the outline of a water arrow began to take shape— about an inch long, the shaft still slightly twisted, not very elegant in appearance.

"The arrow's form is taking shape!"

Filled with delight, Ye Mo poured more power into his palm.

The inch-long water arrow rapidly grew, extending to a foot in length in just a few breaths, before it could grow no more.

Only then did Ye Mo stop channeling his power.

"What a potent chill! At this distance, it feels as if my arm's blood is freezing."

He studied the foot-long water arrow hovering above his palm, controlling it with his divine sense.

After a careful inspection, he found nothing special on the arrow's surface.

"Break!"

Ye Mo glanced around the room, then aimed the arrow at a porcelain vase atop a cabinet against the cabin wall.

With a sharp crack, the water arrow shot out, blasting a large hole in the wall several yards away.

"What power!" Ye Mo gasped.

So this was the might of an immortal cultivator— even the most basic spell could attack at range and cause tremendous destruction.

His aim, however, was far from precise; he missed the porcelain vase and struck the wall instead.

With his spirits lifted, Ye Mo continued practicing the Water Arrow Technique.

...

Second deck corridor of the ship.

After leaving the room, Mo Ling immediately gathered their companions who had escaped the island together.

"Brother Gao, Brother Lin, Ye Mo wants us to support the other warriors and reduce their casualties!" she said quickly.

Gao Jian, at the ninth level of body refinement, was a formidable force— second only to Ye Mo, before Ye Mo had broken through to the Qi Condensation stage. Among their group, only Ye Mo surpassed him.

Lin Zhi, too, held an important position among them.

Though Mo Ling was a princess of Donglai, it was not inappropriate for her to address these men as brothers.

"Has Brother Ye already found the Water Arrow rune? Why didn't he come with you to join us?" Wang Hu asked eagerly.

Ye Mo was the backbone of their group, both in strength and in spirit. Without him, their combat power would be greatly diminished.

"Brother Ye has found the rune, but it takes time to master even the basics of an immortal art. Our task now is to stabilize the situation and buy time. During this period, we must not allow Brother Ye to be disturbed," Mo Ling replied.

"In that case, let's go!" the group agreed.

Gao Jian, Lin Zhi, Li Ruofeng, and over twenty other martial artists dashed through the second deck corridor toward the deck above.

By now, hundreds of captives on the deck were being massacred by well-armed pirates. Some of the more timid captives were fleeing in panic, heading back down to the second deck.

"Quick, retreat!" a crowd of ragged martial artists came rushing down, nearly colliding with Mo Ling, Gao Jian, and their group.

They carried with them an unconscious, grievously wounded captive, their faces heavy with sorrow.

"This is bad— things up on deck must be dire," Gao Jian muttered, striding forward to check the injured man's breath.

A half-foot-long gash across the captive's chest caught his attention, the sight shocking.

"If that wound had been just an inch higher, he would already be dead," Gao Jian thought grimly.

Was this luck, or misfortune?

It only meant more suffering for the poor captive— the ultimate outcome was unlikely to change.

Healing such a wound required at least a mid-grade medicinal herb, but at the moment, they didn't even have the lowest-grade supplies.

"He's alive, but with such a severe injury, he won't regain consciousness any time soon. Without treatment, it's unlikely he'll survive on this ship," Gao Jian said, frowning. He gave the captive a once-over, feeling a pang of pity for the man.

To die with none of one's kin at one's side...

They were now near the deck, where the sounds of fierce fighting echoed from the hatchway above.

"My leg!"

"Run!"

"They're fighting up there— it's pure chaos!"

"Find an empty cabin and tend to the wounded. Patch them up quickly— we have to get back up there!" Gao Jian instructed the other captives.

From time to time, other captives fled down from the deck, desperately squeezing through the narrow second-deck corridor, nearly blocking it entirely.

Gao Jian seized a lightly injured young captive and demanded, "How's the situation above?"

"Get back to the hold, quick! Those pirates are too strong— any one of them can take on several of our brothers at once!" the young man replied, still shaken, though he could tell from Gao Jian's bearing that this must be a skilled fighter.

The man seemed to recall something particularly harrowing and continued, "We rushed the deck, thinking we could take out that murderous, scar-faced Captain Feng and avenge our fallen brothers. We clashed with the pirates, but we were unarmed, and our skills have grown rusty after so long imprisoned."

Though terrified, the martial artist was talkative, recounting the events in a rush, his parched lips trembling.

"And then?" the others pressed, realizing he was hoping for water, but none of them had any— they themselves had just come from the cells.

After glancing around in vain for a drink, the man swallowed dryly and continued his tale.

"Despite our lack of weapons or power, we had numbers and thought we could overwhelm them. But the result was a massacre.

"Those pirates are just too strong. Only five of their experts came out, formed up, and charged right into our midst. In less than ten breaths, a dozen of us were dead, many more wounded— and the five of them retreated in a flash, not so much as scratched."

The young man's body trembled as he spoke, the memory still vivid and terrifying.

"Those five must be late-stage body refinement fighters, able to project their internal energy as protective force or sword energy. Up against a group of ill-equipped, weakened captives, it's a one-sided slaughter," Gao Jian concluded instantly.

He, too, was a peak expert at the ninth level of body refinement, well aware of the lethality of projected sword energy against unarmored novices.

"Come— let's fight our way through!"