The nine-headed lion roared in absolute fury, his noble bloodline steeped in mystery and ancient glory; how could any dare to make him a steed unless they were incarnations of gods from a distant era! Golden radiance burst forth, staining the entire plain into brilliant gold. It shook its mane, its body pulsating with countless ancient runes. Vigorously, it thrashed about striving to throw off the young human rider.
Yet the Little Rascal clung tightly to its mane, seated as unshakable an immovable peak rooted deep to the beast. “Continue acting up like this, and I really will devour you,” the youth stated earnestly, offering a grave warning.
The lion refused to comply, snaring runes to its being while surging with self-destructive intensity, a do-or-die gambit intended to hurl this defiant youth from atop its back. Mysteriously, once more appeared luminous crystal beads. Brilliantly glowing and like minute worlds shrouded in ethereal mist. they crashed down, trying to suppress “the Little Rascal”. Simultaneously, nine golden fangs shot toward his head like flying swords transformed into razor arcs of deadly intent.
Golden bone scissors trilled lightly in protest, the Sacred Mirror flashed radiance too, clashing furiously against the incoming assault. The little boy’s fury boiled over; holding steadfast the golden mane tightly in hand, with unflinching precision the beast was struck by forceful golden punches. Cascading brilliance like a volcanic burst erupted with raw, wild vitality.
“Roaaaaar…” the golden-lion screamed; the top of its head splashed in blood, nearly shattered.
The lion’s growl rose like the storm: “Mortal youth you dare make me rage!”
The monster’s golden fur spiked menacingly in all directions. A horrifying sight indeed. Yet one of its enormous golden heads swollen, expanding into an immense grinding millstone-sized shape that dazzled with searing light.
“Brother, look out!” one elder from Bǔtiān Sect yelled. Warning he must; the lion was threatening self-sacrificial obliteration! However the Rascal merely hollered, soaring up to leave the Lion’s spine behind—why perish needlessly with this mad feral giant?
To the onlookers’ sheer perplexity came amazement however. The swelled, furious lion head immediately reclosed, shrinking rapidly as if the violent tantrum had ceased. It then surged again, wielding artifacts in pursuit of the boy, trying to finish him midair!
“You vile abornlion,” growled the little demon boy.
In his turn, releasing a thunderous howl, the youth vanished, a maelstrom of seething electricity and dancing auroras. The youth turned his golden hair gleamed brilliantly, a dazzling sun exploding forth as the heavens were split!
He ordered the bone sheARS away, turning them toward slaying the lion, while with his own hands summoned a mighty treasure skill, a mastery over thunderous energy, rushing to intercept the crystal rosary.
“Boom!”, the boy clashed his arcane treasure against nine luminous pearls; radiant beauty that resembled confronting an entire world. Blood now dripped from at the corner his smiling lip. Everyone stared, hearts thunderstruck in shock. Was human physique that resilient? Unfazed the boy had equaled a treasure so brilliant. Match them head to head.
Meanwhile, those gleaming golden shears turned two giant leviathans flying down shrieking dragon and leviathan cries that ripped reality itself. Two of the lion’s side heads got cleanly severed off—blood burst in gouts, heads crashed downward with heavy impact. “Gaaaaaaahh!!!”
In that ear-splitting roar agony rang loud; defiance mingled raw fear. He retracted all treasures and retreated swiftly backward.
Boom, boom; two other golden heads were similarly severed and struck downwards by those scissors flying deadly paths. Another two went with blood geysering, golden heads dropping away in pained horror from the golden lion, shrieks echoing the lion pride.
That creature could never wield treasure skills as powerfully as this miraculous child that defied mortal limitations. For golden shears nor the beads transcended his true being; to challenge them crossed an impossible boundary—no normal being had right to resist artifacts so lofty.
The lion had now summoned back his flying fangs, which re-entered its body while the beads gleamed again around him. The artifacts formed glowing pillars of radiant force beneath it before he streaked rapidly backwards across land in a blur.
“Now, where do you fancy fleeing—abandon my trophies and let me reclaim lion-head steaks back from thee,” shouted the boy as standing resplendently atop ivory boneshine mirror gleaming amidst auroras, chasing behind in rapid flight while holding that golden pair bone clamps.
Confused, many looked upon this spectacle; only Bǔtiān disciples recognized, that these claimed treasures meant golden artifacts that he perceived rightly belonged to him, now stolen from the lion’s possession.
Shocked murmurs swept all present. The conflict found conclusion, the young boy triumphant beyond all expectation—nine-headed lion soundly bested; worse—now facing devour! Among onlookers stood Huǒ-lingtoddler-like prodigy, and other talents in the Human Race shaken. But beings like Silver Vein Giant and Feather-King grew chilled beyond description; this terrifying child beat down lions nine-hearted and now desired to dine; leaving them in dread.
Those that recently considered turning this child into a beast companion quelled with horror, as though summoning death itself. They faced one young devil truly!
All pursued. They raced, all desperate for the climax. The golden lion flew chased into a dire situation; its golden escape paths vanished. The monstrous mortal followed, relentlessly.
Despite having a tender visage appearing sweet and pure; within that lion’s perception now loomed only death—the mouth of ancient predator, opening, ravenous, preparing to swallow him whole.
Finally, with no other choices, the desperate fanged king retreated yet again before massive majestic Stone Peaks, entering with headlong urgency into a deep cave on its midway. Half-hidden in the rocky mountainsides, shadows of an unknown darkness yawned in that cave.
“That nine-headed lion has fled into the Spirit Grotto,” roared the horde below shouting.
“No hesitation needed. We must proceed. Should it lay claim over divine fortune, regret would follow too late!” urged Fire Kingdom’s little princess.
Reluctantly the crowd debated—Silver King giant uncertain. Feather Monarch’s followers too, undecided.
“Let’s work united, my allies.” Huǒ Linger proposed boldly. The young beauty’s brows slightly furrowed, her delicate white-faced beauty alight with a touch determination.
All felt this place had once held a fallen god’s death.
The small fry halted his chase before that yawning dark mouth, not entering. The cavern was black and terrifying, filled with the whispers of wailing ghostly lamentations.
This was midnight when stars scattered. A full moon hung glowing silver in skies overhead: the night now draped an obsidian veil, the cavern transformed into ominous dark den—a haunt of dread and nightmares!
“You plan to go alongside, right?” whispered Fire Girl playfully with sidelong gaze.
“If I enter then I capture our lion as riding beast—surely sparking chaos.” Honestly confessed the Rascal.
“That shall disrupt forbidden defenses. Within, together no opposition! Work united. This was the resting ground to primordial divinity’s remnants. And their greatest of legacies await!” she countered sharply.
“Then compensate by offering me another mount, “he demanded, his golden thunder already dismissed while stowing his precious pair tools and relaxing his demeanor back down.
“We got zilch—Nil,” scowled Fire princess fiercely with her own glare.
“Then I refuse,” the youngster declined decisively, giving his usual wide-eyed sincerity. “This place stirs unease. Trust this instinct—I beg you to wait outside.”
I will treat you to roasted, caramel-lion heads, the small child offered charmingly while flashing a golden tooth as if proof this would suffice for her.
“You coward!” scowled the girl. The child had earned a loyal battle-following that she respected greatly, but seeing his refusal left her frustrated helpless—knowing he’d not alter stance for persuasion.
In conclusion then Huǒ Ling spearheaded her party entering the Sacred Hollows, alongside dozen humans. Close following behind came Silver Blood giant allied briefly with Feather Lord and others—though moments earlier these had hesitating feet that faltered, suddenly terrified seeing this devil boy grinding his molars.
Who the true primordial heir was? Who was the greater monster? Why was he so eager to feast on them?
The terror overwhelmed each one. None of them stood any chance before such a youth that shattered the pride of even Nine-hearted Lion—their souls shivered unwilling to share same space.
Buthiian’s several masters stayed guard outside, journeying alongside him with complete faith now.
“You bear injuries brother!” cried one concerned female disciple offering an exquisite potion.
“None, but some meals to recover. Merely coughed forth a slight bit—tiny trickle!” he refused all medical treatment.
All shook silently—more than merely great, Nine-Heads likely ranked within apex of creatures. Severing four with sheer force—an unthinkable, legendary event.
Time for banquet arrived, he joyfully cheered at scent waft in the air.
Four lion’s heads were hauled forward carefully by disciples—the heads oddly exuded sweet fragrance absent of bloody scent, showing how potent their meat’s effect would prove.
Beside the river stood a tall flowing bank, where heads soon skinned, scalded and cleaned before copper cooking-pots rose into readiness to boil forth the meal atop riverbank.
“Master Brother! You’ve truly come fully prepared with every item in mind!” gasped disciples in disbelief.
The boy’s pouch was weighted so heavily—because inside lay hidden a tiny, collapsible bronze vessel as compact as any household tool, carrying with him all the necessities required to survive any quest journey.
“Bronze vessels stew lion best—Iron pots don’t absorb as deeply,” smiled the brat gleefully watching the pot fire roar brighter after an entire hour.
Golden heads now glowed. Tossed rhythmically amidst bubbling water their meat shimmered with rainbow colors; the sweet rich scent drifted, mouthwatering.
“Sister—add these four healing sprouts,” pointing to four plants gleaming with their own rainbow glow collected beside the nearby lake to be stirred within. The bubbling blend now released vibrant colorful light waves.
“Finale nearly done! Keep simmering slightly longer to condense and thicken the sauce—then those heads fully marinate flavor inside.” The lid placed down properly while glowing aromas grew even intoxicating; those simmering golden heads turned into a delectable yellow crisp—succulent flesh softened while radiant blood-essence turned syrup-like within infused through golden meat threads. Though nothing needed further speech, everyone knew—the legendary recipe had brewed now!
Nine-headed lineages’ core essence coiled deep beneath minor frontal appendages—these were more shrine-like than true skulls—their storehouses brimming not just life essence, but divine potency. All that stewed together into alchemical brilliance, one single divine treasure pot of radiant golden nectars, scented and vibrant. Four sprouted treasures thrown into the stew? Enhanced effects beyond reckoning. Golden liquid bubbled like sun nectar, shining radiantly enough to entrance any beholder.
“So aromatic, irresistible!” The child licked lips, drool near escaping eyes wide now gleamed as starry constellations.
“That should do,” stated an elder finally after long preparation watching.
“Let’s feast!” called the youth with delight scooping a golden stewed head straight upwards—his teeth clamped in eagerly tasting flesh that dissolved like clouds melting against his teeth. Cascades of liquid golden nectar spilled outward sparklingly around golden waves, burning aura danced joyfully about as if tiny fireflies flying.
“This’s amazing stuff—this medicinal potency! This is unreal!” His seniors gasped; bodies heating to fire, orifices steamed, eyes flashing with internal light beams—each of them.
“Fast, quickly, the moment waits none—serve immediately, the flavor peaks freshly simmering from pot!”
Delightfully gorging with wild abandon, liquid splatters drenched all around as golden aroma filled nose, mouth—a state where the very marrow softened.
“I’ve heard tales. These lion skulls said among the planet’s ultimate delicacies—and powerful medicine as well.” The girls themselves no longer hesitated and dove with fervor into the feasting fray joining.
No bones remained on gold lion heads; all just melted flesh infused with nectar richly saturated with golden vitality. The five talented individuals partook of one and a half heads along side sipping golden nectar—quickly overwhelmed in satiety unable to continue before sitting cross-legged in lotus postures, runes igniting—entering training mode immediately to assimilate and harness newfound vitality.
The Rascal, meanwhile happily sang away, joyfully devouring his fill without reservation or caution. Golden sauce now stained entire mouth; lips, even tongue—completely engrossed with culinary paradise.
“At last,” sighing deeply and replete at feast end. He’d eaten two heads solo along most pot-remaining nectar laying relaxed on grassy patch alongside riverbank too exhausted to rise.
“Brother don’t slake, swiftly enter meditation, capitalize on this growth leap opportunity now!” the masters urged urgency.
“Rest easy—I absorbed energy directly, strengthened my marrow, reinforced my bone matrix fully within ready for the leap next round—no rush yet. Let me first solidify the foundation. Better cautious than face calamity through recklessness!”
Later in twilight—resplendent rays burst as the Bǔtiān sect’s Five prodigies burst through in radiant succession—one after another spring spritual awakening, exuding vibrant new confidence from each one’s core—the exodus ignited with cheers full of pure bliss and elation at their new heights attained collectively.
“So indebted, dear younger bro,” expressing true gratitude they each voiced.
“Don’t mention it—next we go after other creatures: white dragons, fat-worms of delight—we got plenty good eats waiting in these fields beyond!” he replied nonchalantly. Following this, he collapsed into blissed-out peaceful nap, little boy lips curved in soft dreams.
They exchanged awkward looks. So bloodily savage was he, yet still, so pure cutely angel-faced—an eerie contrast.
The night further aged. From hollows now and again came rolling booming echoes; they went undisturbed, until deep in that hour, a rustling awakened the Rascal’s sharp eyes; each one sprang upright hair bristling with tension.
All round eyes glowing like lantern flared alighting every corner—the eyes gigantic in number.
“Heaven, wolves all round and each larger than elephants,” shrieks from masters rose, their rest shattered by panic.
“This’s an attack plan against the divine hollow—the we’ve got totally surrounded,” scowled Rascal.
Even worse, the wolf wave wasn’t chaotic at all—organized, united and disciplined—a vast force stretching the entire plain into infinity of numbers; these definitely no usual wildlife.
Immense like elephant-sized; others snow pure-white in pelts; some dark jet black and some deep-indigo blue-gray; intelligent cruel glint in each set of wolf eyes gleamed with cunning intent.
“We must withdraw!” he hissed, leading his team in dashing skywards atop towering Stone Peak—yet deliberately eschaved mid-level cavern; instead climbing to high summit overlooking below.
“Their strategy—attack through the cavern. Let’s watch patiently in safe hiding spots. Wait for opening in attack waves—escape stealthily with artifact flying power at best moment opportunistic.
Everywhere roamed those mutant wolves. Numbers beyond estimation. In darkness lurkers of more danger possibly lurking. The mighty treasure-using pack Alpha wolves, or even King—these not moments to fight way through.
How anticipated came the haunting distant howl—a silver-furred beast now standing at east—towering over a mountain at twenty odd meters height howled rhythmically, bathed in treasures’ brilliant luminescent glows—leading his swarm of pack howled their battle-churned war cry straight towards divine cavern entrance.
Further from north emerged a towering red-furred monolith of wolf-flesh standing meters, a red-crowned colossus with single horn, flaming with red auras—terribly terrifying.
All corners cried howl after howl; dozens of beastly king packs surfaced. Every wolf leader skilled at treasure-rites. They charged into that cursed dark hole of the spiritual void!
Howled, and rushed—how many more wolves charged into abyssal depths. Stone Peak transformed into black bottomless void swallowing everything with soundless silence—void even deeper than deepest pit.
And amidst all, the King Beasts too took action entering that hollow void.
Then came dawn with mountain shaking, an internal uprising threatening to rip Stone Peak apart. A shattering, a break—the whole structure trembled as if crumbling apart.
“Roarrrrr—”
The Silver-Blooded Behemoth leapt into escape—a battered frame—bloodied wounds criss crosses all; clamped onto the body still remained clinging to death’s jaws. The corpses of wolves still attached tightly.
“This place is not divine—it’s a devil’s abyss,” wheezed painfully; near fallen in the dirt.
Like a flicker, out sprang Feather Monarch—his rainbow wings torn nearly beyond flesh. Bloodied, half dying amidst dripping crimson.
His own entourage barely survived; most fallen forever forgotten at death’s maw.
Huǒ Linger followed—also splashed with blood, hers unknown to the observer whose, but a cadre swarmed round the young girl wrapped in deep shadowed cloaks, each cloaked protector blooded as they defended tightly.
Behind them a ragged troop of Human Kind elite burst forth wounded—each stumbled in steps so unstable they could almost be considered ghosts limping.
“Place of resting Wargods—this sacrilege feeding soil of beasts—a hellish den of death! NOT what once deemed a divine hollow.”
Out emerged the Golden lion—its frame bleeding from head to toe as if from all its previous wounds re-opended.
“What was gained there?” Giant enquired of Huǒ L.
One of the cloak-shield followers held forth something golden—radiated brilliance through worn folds that escaped conceal and drew immediate gasping eyes: an animal skin pack that leaked with shimmering glint that no eyes could ignore.
“Only an egg.” Spoke young flame girl softly, calm.
“That may contain…Wolf-deity’s youngling? Impossible,” gasped Feather Monarch in stunned horror at the idea.
Both Nine-Faced Lion and silver warrior echoed deep realization; for inscriptions inside that very grotto chamber mentioned this very truth. WolfGod bore young in golden eggs.
Do wolves lay such egg indeed?” the small Rascal, perched on summit cliff, whispered curiously into brother ear.
“Not typically.”
“My dear Sister! Then you surely stole FALSE egg—non-genuine! Allow I feast delicious egg,” cheerfully chirped he, before racing headfirst down stone peaks to meet the surging horde that surged ahead of them like living floodwaters.
Raging Alpha pack erupted forth. A rain of spells—waves of ancient runes—flooded that battlefield.
The hooded follower trembled, severely hurt already; leather case he held snapped open violently; the palm-enlarged golden eggs tumbled out.
Together leapt from all ranks: Nine-headed beast, Feather Emperor, Giant Silven-Blood—joined in full desperate attempt to claim this mysterious artifact.
Huǒ Linger’s human allies cried their warnings; charging forth together likewise in attempt of rescue against overwhelming encroach.
Tens of almighty werewolf monarchs roared; summoned a tidal onslaught; their millions surged behind—flooding the battlefield in endless black sea, seeking final annihilation, all aiming at that precious glistered orb.
In the midst of this, golden artifact struck flying—tumbled end over end.
At the perfect instant of its rolling path came the flying silhouette. The boy-child leaping high to catch, arms wide with uncontained elation—the joy lit upon young face gleaming like celestial dawn at dawn:
“All! Let’s depart for breakfast—Let’s cook and then, consume! Tasty!”
“We forbid!!” a collective cry surged.
“No time!” the brat exulted gleeful in his treasure catch; huggings the precious orb he dashed downward, leaping into the storm of wolves; a flash then vanished entirely in a trailless rush—gone.
“Aaahh…Noooooo!!”
A cry arose from behind; their very souls howled in agony. A frenzy erupted—chases followed—no cost would hold restraint.
They would pursue, they could not permit devouring the Egg!
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