Little Rascal’s little eyes lit up as he listened, filled with delight. Deep inside, he was in conflict—should he consume that silvery living creature or not? Finally, a complete and fulfilling answer had arisen.
“You all wish to exchange something with me?” The black-robed figure emerged slowly from the palanquin, his cloak enveloping his frame completely, while his rasped, low voice echoed. “Hold on—first, we have to confirm if it really is from the Lingzù (Spirit Race).” Several elder apprentices from the Bǔtiān Sect shifted uneasily, sharing a knowing glance among them.
They were visibly affected for Lingzù was an ancient, near-extinct species, exceedingly rare and notoriously fearsome. The silver creature slain by the youngest apprentice should carry royal blood, as its skin suggested.
“It truly is a Lingzù,” one replied at length before stating, “And yes, we agree to the trade, willingly.” Their black hood shrouded figure was surprisingly straightforward, and with little hesitation made direct their intentions.
At these implications, even prodigies could not hide their astonishment. It’s been whispered amongst sages: those who possessed rare Ling’spirit could aid any who dared drink in its essence towards higher enlightenment—an almost mystical miracle.
“A Lingzù?” confirmed the cloaked being retreating to report by the palanquin. “Fine—we’ll trade: the Zǐyún Heart.” As an exquisitely refined, crisp as jade beads tumbling onto a jade dish. Yet all 40 gifted prodigies stood agape. The Zǐyún was also an ancient treasure and by no lesser regard an item of rarity—an herb of great strength when it came to advancing power levels within practice arts.
A suggestion by those beside the cart urged caution:
“The ZǐYúnxīn, Princess, isn’t just scarce; it is a force more dominant than the herb in question,” one warned, urging her third thought in the matter.
“And with it—considering the difficulties—obtaining the spirit’s blood becomes a rarity even within such rare stock, not hereditarily passed as lineage blood,” cautioned another with final appeal. Yet seated within the crimson-aura lustrant of a royal carriage came her quiet resolute reply—it was clear in the noble girl’s mind that a rare elixir of spiritual nature such as this would out value much.
Then the mist-shrouded robed being came forward holding a jade furnace no large than one squared foot, offering no word. Little Rascal stepped up, needing a thorough inspection—the treasure within the jar being of immense worth demanded nothing less.
Joining him from behind were three male senior apprentices and two female peers from Bǔtiān Sect, also coming up front to observe with wide eyes drawn by his example.
The furnace lid cracked opened releasing an ambient fragrance. From within the haze came out a glowing, purple orb—large like a head—glistening like polished luster and emanating waves of lavender mist in aromatic pulses, all while shimmering a soft lavender glow.
That heart—a relic of a fierce, old-world beast—looked far more precious as a huge lustrous diamond instead of a bloody heart.
“A real treasure! So rare to behold!” whispered the observing apprentices, eyes widened, for moments ago they’d helped fight the fearsome ancient beast themselves. While having ‘Marten’ in its name, it resembled something wholly different. Only the head matched that of purple marten in appearance—every other element mimicked those of predatory raptors: fierce wing beats, skies torn. Indeed, that beast alone almost crushed their might. Only thanks to overwhelming numbers and the final efforts from the Princess, daughter of the emperor, their fate was sealed victorious, not in tragedy.
Indeed it was more powerful than the silver being they’d captured—and now its victory fell prey to collective strength. That, and this, was the reason they loathed giving the artifact up—the young royal wielded significant strength, with many owing favors or sworn loyalties—some from her recruitment.
Their grumbles were in vain however—the royal maiden was not budging, and neither would they escape her decree.
“Great!” The youngest was visibly excited; this purple glowing mass exhaled clouds thick around it not with blood, but aroma—a clear, clean scent fitting its noble designation as a heart-shaped cloud.
But before they could finish the process… one of those lingering near the palanquin, still watching the treasure with covetous eyes dared object with growing fervor. The others followed in silent accord. Despite protests, though—it fell upon deaf ears.
“Princess Junior Apprentice…” Little Rassel cried to princess within crimson light, “I belong to the Bǔtiān Sect. Won’t you come and meet your elder brother apprentice?”
Murmur of disbelief rippled across fellow gifted observers; how bold this mere child spoke! In fact, how many even dared speak to the emperor’s daughter directly—even those from sects stood at polite distance, respecting and wary in every breath they drew.
Even amongst those five talents from the Holy Territory, this unrefined tone surprised them; they too merely glimpsed the back of Princess during training. And only now did they stand alongside their princess once face-to-face.
Crimson lights shimmered as silks parted with graceful motion revealing a girl in late teen spring of youth’s bloom—not full grown, yet she rivaled many in height beyond that.
A luminous forehead, oval, porcelain skin like polished alabaster. Her almond shape eyes clear, bright beyond brilliance. Her movements were effortless—a swaying elegance in the curves of her form and in turn drawing eyes with her beauty beyond what other young women could match. Her steps—like those danced by the finest courtesan—svelte waist, smooth, slender form moved like soft silk waves.
“You…” A smile broke gently, as she arched one elegant brow. “Young brat, did you just refer to me as something… sweet?” A playful tease danced her words across the young male. “So young yet so cheeky,” she teased, her expression full of mirth—playfulness in every movement while Little Rascal remained defiant. “I entered the Academy before you, naturally making me big brother apprentice! Now, come greet me.”
A hush enveloped; they couldn’t believe his words. Was this little one dauntless or just foolhardily arrogant—addressing none other than princess in such an unrefined manner?
Yet the Emperor’s most favored daughter blinked slowly, her gaze locking onto the smaller boy—shock rippling across her expression. “Could it possibly be… him?” Her eyes studied Little Raskal’s dirtied face, as others did, curious to confirm for themselves the truth.
Indeed, he’d earned a mighty reputation in past battle—he’d faced the silvery being and the glory of the moment left him soiled and stained—soot mingled with blood.
“Brat in the Hollows!” One of them finally cried aloud having placed a name upon the boy’s face.
The crowd gasped collectively, realization dawning upon the gathered masses.
“It is really him! After all this time—found at last!” The cry rose into a roar from dozens of figures—advancing quickly with fervid intentions to capture him. “You’re just a brat! All your family’s brats!” Little Raskal’s voice, a sharp retort, was edged fiercely as his gaze darted. “And mind yourselves! Stay back—unless you wish swallowed whole by shadowed jaws!”
His notoriety preceded him—those of the Hollows had dreamed of capturing him; the urge to retaliate, to strike, rippled into every gathered warrior of that elite crowd—muscles braced. Even the most beloved of Imperial Line—Princess herself grinned at the chance, curling delicate white fingers into tiny fists. A glint of thrill sparked across her features.
“You shouldn’t go about calling elders in such a brash fashion, young junior sister… it leaves an ugly image.”
As they advanced with forceful intent—”Capture him now!”—the Princess gave clear, shrill decree.
They surged together—mass movement with single focus.
But he had other designs—”I’ll remember that!” he shot back then bolted instantly through dense thickets of undergrowth, his figure nothing more than blurred streak. For he desired only to escape—his heart’s mission still ahead:
To attain higher realms.
He clutched the Zǐyūn heart tightly within his hands. Its energies called him forward—and in delay, unrest lingered. To ascend meant to amplify his strength tenfold! They could shout—”Capture him alive.” They might race after—”Ride out for the mischievous boy.”
Alas his flight would outpace wind itself as he dove into forests untracked… disappearing before any eye could seize him again…
But the boy had left one more echo on them all from a high mountain range beyond chase:
“Junior Apprentices and Masters… keep close to your little sister princess. Gotta dash now.” His cry echoed far, leaving stunned hunters breathless, realizing speed such as theirs seemed but footrace in mud compared to what was just seen.
Not long after a hidden grotto roared with sounds like rolling thunder. Purple haze and clouds rose from its opening as vibrant waves of auspicious light flickered outward:
“Roooaaaar—!”
The lowest growl rose into the air. In the cavernous heart of volcano’s maw, “magma streams” rushed out—a fiery river of energy that coursed through Little Raskal’s form, pouring through every artery.
Shuddering, the mountain cracked wide—and through this widening gulf stepped forth tiny but fearsome. A purpling glow enwrapped the child—releasing terrifying, awe-striking energies.
Beast spirits nearby stampeded in dread—trees uprooted in wild panic—the woods shuddered. Not until the auric clouds dissipated could his true features emerge. Little Raskal danced with joy: another transcendence, not long after last ascent! Breaking through with such rapidity—he had not required even a mere lunar cycle between each new gateway opening.
While other disciples might stretch for year after unending year to gain one single spiritual aperture—Little Raskal had surpassed in a blink! His growth if known would be a terror even to sages across lands.
His might exploded outward—the ground erupted! A gust, like wind from soaring eagle wings, erupted. Rising high into sky—as he leaped with might—his figure cutting across air itself! Soaring, crossing high land, a silhouette flying like phoenix rising on thermals.
“Hmm… looks like he remained nearby for breakthrough.” Watching below was valley where the Princess’ carriage stood, surrounded by many others—murmurs now excited. One of two horned creatures—a humanoid back with dual wings of avian form—eyed the arrival and gasped. “You again! The Nine Heads Lion King wants you as one of his battle pets.” He fumbled in pouch drawing parchment to prove identity—shouting, surprised that this child appeared before them. “Where exactly do they search? Get this brat to come forth.” The figure called angrily.
Yet he received none other than an even angrier Little Raskal—storming forward with clenched fist. As usual, his answer needed neither long sentence nor polite gesture. A mere flash was enough, as radiant symbols of Glyph magic erupted. Chants rose, golden bolts danced through his fingertips—as he struck one palm forward!
The air exploded—a wave, a roar, an immense burst of electricity, lightning crashing and thundering into wing-backed human—scorch and tumble through air.
“Who dares kill one of King Feathered’s people?” Other beings of different clans screamed—ready with fury, eyes filled with intent to kill…
“The reason I hold such contempt for their Feathered Majesty,” Little Raskal retorted without pause, fingers spread wide. Lightning arced wide—sizzling with fury—as each thunderous lash shot across distance—impaling all opposing figures one by one. Their life extinguished—turning to dust of ash under raw power. In awe the group of human disciples watched, shocked—what was this monster boy doing! Killing powerful elites—effortless?
“You are incredible—why not join forces with our alliance then,” cried the noble princess excited—her heart racing as well—yet suppressing deep urges, for the little rascal, although tempting to strike upon his bare rear—deserved restraint of impulse.
“Our team—already formed of powerful warriors such as Nine-Faced Golden King, Royal Blood Giant, Wingless King—has planned expedition to seize a divine treasure hidden within Heaven Vault.” She continued coaxiously.
“Does the ugly malformed lion lead their force?”
“Aye. He shall attend in this endeavor.” The noble daughter smiled and gracefully stepped forward; the beauty of her body in every curve was dazzling.
“Then I’m in.” His small hand closed with determination.
“Now… no need becoming all vicious—he’s our temporary ally.” As a teasing remark escaped princess’ lips, “If you must be bad, be a bad puppy—unless you prefer spankings?” she teased.
With a sudden CRACK—the boy slapped his palm playfully across her rear with no trace of caution before his wide eyes twinkled with mischief.
Her eyes—shocked. A beat of silence.
Then fire ignited upon her cheeks—cheeks blazed crimson—she gasped.
“You dared…” she murmured—disbelief giving way to simmering rage while her pearl-like teeth exposed, gritting between lips as red as ripe hibiscus flowers. Her figure trembled—glyphs erupting from her very pores and surrounding her like dancing celestial threads against a backdrop darkened skies.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage