Dragon's Descent [Xianxia, Reverse Cultivation]

Water moved in volumes that transformed the familiar stream into something resembling a horizontal waterfall. Trees that had stood for decades vanished beneath the surge, their crowns disappearing as the flood claimed territory that had been dry land moments before.

Riding the wave's crest, the displaced spirits manifested their rage through direct manipulation of water's behavior. The flood's leading edge congealed and split, forming multiple grasping tendrils that extended toward the vulnerable buildings downstream.

Li Feng's wooden sword flashed as he channeled the formation's collective power, tracing swift strokes through space to interpose protective barriers of condensed qi.

"Channel begins!" he announced, his voice carrying over the water's roar. "All participants maintain steady circulation—do not attempt individual techniques!"

The villagers at their assigned positions started their basic qi circulation, their limited but sincere efforts combining into something larger than individual contributions. Xiaolong felt the formation activate—nine streams of amateur cultivation flowing toward Li Feng's position, where his sect training would refine and direct their collective output.

Li Feng's meridians flared as the combined qi flow reached him. His breathing deepened, chest rising and falling in the controlled rhythm required to manage multiple energy streams without allowing them to interfere with each other. Sweat beaded on his forehead despite the day's chill.

The first flood tendril struck the eastern barrier.

Stone and earth construction held against the initial impact, but spiritual energy coursed through the water like lightning seeking ground. The barrier's defensive formations activated, channeling Li Feng's enhanced power to redirect the supernatural assault away from vulnerable structures.

A second tendril followed immediately, this one carrying concentrated spite from one of the displaced spirits. The attack bypassed physical obstacles entirely, targeting the barrier's spiritual foundation through direct energy manipulation.

Li Feng's wooden sword moved in the classical patterns of River Cutting Sword Art, each motion creating ripples in the air that intersected the spirit's assault. Where his technique met the hostile energy, order imposed itself on chaos—the wild attack fragmenting into manageable components that his barriers could absorb and deflect.

But the effort cost him. Blood appeared at the corner of his mouth—internal pressure from forcing damaged pathways to carry excessive spiritual loads.

"His meridians are taking too much strain!" Widow Cai called from her formation position, her own connection to the channeling process giving her insight into Li Feng's condition.

"Hold positions!" Elder Duan commanded. "Breaking formation now would make things worse!"

The third attack came from multiple directions simultaneously.

All three displaced spirits coordinated their assault, having observed Li Feng's defensive patterns and identified vulnerabilities. Water struck the barriers from east, north, and west simultaneously.

Li Feng spun, his sword movements blurring as he attempted to address three simultaneous threats. His technique remained sound, but his execution faltered under the strain. The northern deflection succeeded partially—enough to prevent catastrophic damage but insufficient to fully neutralize the attack.

A section of barrier stone cracked under spiritual pressure, water beginning to seep through gaps that widened as the assault continued.

"Stone's failing!" Wong shouted, his earth-sense detecting structural compromises invisible to normal sight. "Northeast corner's got fractures spreading!"

"Timber's holding," Lingxin reported, "but if the foundation goes, the whole section collapses!"

Li Feng coughed, blood splattering onto the muddy ground. Pain creased his features, but he maintained his dual-handed sword grip despite visible exhaustion.

"Hold positions," he repeated, echoing Elder Duan's command through gritted teeth. "Tighten your circulation—the worst is yet to come."

The formation participants maintained their qi circulation, but Xiaolong observed subtle signs of their own strain. Wong's breathing grew labored as his amateur cultivation reached its limits. Widow Cai's hands shook from the effort required to maintain basic mudras. Even Elder Duan, most experienced among them, showed signs of fatigue after only minutes of sustained channeling.

Xiaolong watched the barriers tremble under each successive impact, her enhanced senses revealing microfractures that spread like spiderwebs through stone and earth. Each blow weakened the defenses further, accelerating an inevitable collapse that would render all their work meaningless.

Her protective instincts screamed at her to act, to assert her own power and resolve their dilemma by force of will. Every second of restraint felt like betrayal of someone who had become precious beyond rational explanation.

But she remembered Li Feng's objections to such direct intervention—how his choice to maintain their cooperative effort carried a profound lesson she could not afford to ignore. His growth, his people's development, their collective strength—all would be undermined by her unilateral intervention.

A more subtle approach was required.

"Breakthrough insight!" she announced loudly, hoping her theatrical timing would disguise the supernatural nature of what she was about to attempt. "The formation can be stabilized through resonance harmony!"

Before anyone could question this convenient revelation, she moved to a position equidistant between Li Feng and the formation participants. She began what she hoped would pass for an advanced cultivation breakthrough—deliberately synchronizing her breathing with Li Feng's rhythm while extending her spiritual awareness toward the formation's energy flows.

The Essence Resonance Technique she improvised drew from dragon methods for coordinating territorial defense among multiple participants. Instead of overwhelming the formation with her true power, she created harmonic frequencies that stabilized the qi circulation between participants and primary channeler.

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The effort demanded more of her than anticipated. Constraining her draconic essence while simultaneously manipulating the formation's energy patterns created internal tensions that manifested as physical pain.

Her bones ached as if her very skeleton was protesting the forced limitation. Pressure built behind her eyes, and she tasted copper as stress hemorrhages began in her sinuses.

Li Feng's eyes widened as the formation's energy flow suddenly smoothed, becoming more manageable despite unchanged volume. The chaotic interference between multiple amateur cultivators resolved into clean streams that his meridians could process without additional strain.

"How..." he began, then abandoned the question as another spirit assault required immediate attention.

His River Cutting Sword Art moved more fluidly now, supported by stable energy flow that no longer threatened to overwhelm his damaged pathways. The technique cut through water-spirit attacks like heated blade through ice, each motion precise and controlled.

"She's doing something!" Wong called, his earth-sense detecting the subtle harmonies Xiaolong was weaving through the formation's structure. "The energy's flowing clean now!"

"Whatever she's doing, it's working!" Widow Cai added, relief evident in her voice as the dangerous fluctuations in Li Feng's circulation stabilized.

But Xiaolong paid the price for her intervention. Blood ran from her nose as internal pressure mounted. Her human form was not designed to channel draconic techniques, even constrained ones. Each moment of maintaining the resonance harmony stressed her reverse cultivation to its limits.

The displaced spirits paused their assault, apparently confused by the sudden improvement in defensive capabilities. Their rage remained undiminished, but the tactical situation had shifted enough to warrant reassessment.

Into this momentary lull, Grandmother Willow-Stream manifested directly above her awakened shrine.

The local water guardian rose from the glowing pools like mist given form and purpose. Her presence immediately dominated the spiritual landscape, ancient authority asserting itself over the newer arrivals who had invaded her territory without proper introductions.

"Young waters," she addressed the displaced spirits, her voice carrying undertones that made the flood surge pause in its advance. "You bring storm and fury to places that have known peace. What drives you from your proper domains?"

The three spirits responded simultaneously, their combined voice creating harmonics that spoke of territorial violation and forced exile. Their words overlapped and interfered, but the essential meaning came through clearly.

"The Jade Serpent wakes!" they cried in unison. "The Jade Serpent claims waters that have flowed free since the first rains fell! We are driven from homes held since the mountains learned their names!"

"Ancient coils crush the northern streams!" added the first spirit, its voice like rapids over stone. "Sacred pools boil beneath scaled flesh!"

"Territorial boundaries mean nothing to one who remembers when these valleys were ocean floor!" wailed the second, its tone carrying the desperation of the permanently displaced.

"We seek new waters, new domains!" declared the third. "These mortals build barriers where none should stand!"

Grandmother Willow-Stream's expression shifted to something approaching sympathy. "Ah. The old powers stir again. This explains much about recent disturbances." Her form solidified, taking on more human appearance as the gravity of the situation demanded clearer communication.

She turned her attention to Li Feng, who maintained his defensive stance despite the temporary cease in hostilities. Blood continued to stain his lips, and his breathing remained labored despite the formation's improved stability. "Young protector, these spirits seek not conquest but refuge. Their anger comes from displacement, not malice."

"Can they be reasoned with?" Li Feng asked, lowering his sword slightly but maintaining ready position. "This village has coexisted with local water spirits for generations."

"Coexistence requires negotiation," the local guardian replied carefully. "But these are not local spirits—they are refugees from territories conquered by one whose power dwarfs even ancient claims."

"We held the Serpent's Gorge for eight hundred years!" the first displaced spirit protested. "Carved channels through living rock! Nurtured streams that fed ten thousand li of farmland!"

"The Crystal Falls were ours from the first ice age!" added the second. "Our essence shaped every droplet, every pool, every cascade!"

"Gone!" wailed the third. "All gone! Crushed beneath coils that span valley to valley!"

Grandmother Willow-Stream raised a translucent hand for silence. "I understand your loss, young ones. But claiming territory through force creates only more displacement, more suffering."

"Then what would you have us do?" demanded the first spirit. "Fade to nothing? Accept exile without domain? We are water spirits—we require waters to sustain our existence!"

Li Feng stepped forward, his diplomat's instincts engaging despite his exhaustion. "This region could potentially accommodate additional spirits," he said carefully. "But integration would require agreements that protect both existing inhabitants and new arrivals."

"Integration!" scoffed the second spirit. "Mortals speak of integration while building barriers to contain our essence!"

"Barriers to protect the village," Li Feng corrected. "Not to contain spirits. There's a difference."

"Is there?" asked the third spirit, its voice carrying centuries of bitter experience with human encroachment on spiritual territories.

Xiaolong watched this exchange while struggling to maintain the resonance harmony. Blood continued to flow from her nose, and pressure built behind her eyes until her vision blurred at the edges. But she held on, determined to support Li Feng's efforts to achieve a diplomatic solution.

"Young protector speaks truth," Grandmother Willow-Stream confirmed. "These barriers redirect water flow rather than imprisoning it. The design shows respect for natural patterns."

"Pretty words," the first spirit replied skeptically. "But what assurance do we have? What prevents these mortals from expanding their barriers until no free water remains?"

As if summoned by the question, a distant rumble echoed from the northern valleys. The Jade Serpent's spiritual pressure reached even this distance, a cosmic presence that made the displaced spirits straighten with recognition rather than cower in terror.

"The Serpent stirs," said the first spirit, its voice carrying resignation rather than panic. "It consolidates the northern watersheds, claiming territories that have flowed free since the first rains."

"How much time do we have?" Li Feng asked, lowering his sword but maintaining ready stance.

"Days, perhaps a week," the second spirit replied. "The Serpent moves deliberately, consuming territories rather than simply conquering them. Each domain it claims strengthens its reach."

"We cannot return," declared the third spirit. "Our former homes exist now only in its coils. We require new waters, new domains."

Grandmother Willow-Stream nodded slowly. "Then we must find arrangements that serve all parties. Young protector, these spirits seek not conquest but refuge. Their anger comes from displacement, not malice toward your people."

Li Feng wiped blood from his lips, his breathing still labored despite the formation's improved stability. "Can they be reasoned with?"

"We can hear reason," the first spirit replied, its tone shifting from hostility toward cautious interest. "If terms prove fair and territories prove genuine."

"Then we negotiate quickly," Li Feng said, straightening despite visible exhaustion. "And prepare for larger challenges."