Chapter 151: Sweeping Away

With a resounding *boom*, a golden wing crashed to the ground, splitting the mountain rocks asunder. It was a half-blooded Roc wing, harder than iron and brimming with boundless divine essence. “Ah—!” The Golden-Winged Roc let out a furious cry. Defeated—and so utterly at that—it plummeted to the earth, splattering pale golden blood that gouged a deep crater into the ground, cracks spreading for dozens, even hundreds of meters.

“Stop the bleeding! Don’t waste it!” The Crimson Bird cried out in distress, lunging forward—for this was a treasure of flesh and blood, a rare medicinal resource. Little Rascal showed no mercy, already diving down atop the crystalline Lion-Dragon Mirror, a broken sword in hand, slashing downward. At this stage of a life-and-death battle, hesitation was impossible.

“No—!” The Roc roared, its golden pupils wide with fury. Little Rascal remained cold, his sword energy surging like a rainbow as it swept forward. The Roc’s body blazed with golden radiance, its feathers gleaming, but its skull split open, and explosive cracks echoed from within—its Glyph Bones were self-destructing!

Little Rascal sighed, filled with regret. He had missed the chance to grasp the supreme treasure technique of the Roc lineage, leaving him helpless.

*Thud!*

The sword energy arced through the air, severing a massive golden head that tumbled away, trailing blood as it crashed to the ground. There was no need to inspect further—the crucial Glyph Bones within the Golden-Winged Roc had shattered.

A half-blooded divine bird had fallen. To the gathered ancient remnant beasts, it felt unreal. How could such a mighty Golden-Winged Roc lose to a mere human child?

*Flee!*

Dozens of ancient remnant beasts turned and bolted, scattering in all directions. That boy was too savage, too unstoppable.

Everything had happened in the blink of an eye. Little Rascal reacted swiftly. After dispatching the Golden Roc, he channeled all his power into the broken sword, slashing toward the fleeing beasts.

The sword erupted with a sea of blade light, overwhelming and unstoppable, cleaving the earth asunder. Stones flew, dust surged into the sky. The sheer force of the strike sent shockwaves through the escaping beasts—two were instantly bisected, while the others staggered but managed to flee.

“Chase them! Let none escape!” Little Rascal bellowed. If word of this got out, trouble would follow—especially since the White Tiger and Golden Roc had formidable backgrounds.

The Nine-Headed Lion, understanding the stakes, roared and gave chase despite its injuries. The Crimson Bird, the Purple Marten, the twin Cyclops brothers, and the Fire Crow all joined the pursuit. Their goal wasn’t necessarily to kill—just to delay until Little Rascal arrived.

Little Rascal, eyes burning with battle fury, quickly caught up to one remnant beast. The broken sword flashed, cleaving it in half before he dashed to reinforce the others.

The battlefield became a cacophony of roars and avian shrieks, blood staining the earth. The battle was fiercer than before—one side desperate to flee, the other determined to stop them at all costs.

Thirteen ancient remnant beasts had been slain—four by Little Rascal, five held back by the Nine-Headed Lion and the others—but four still escaped. Three of them were avian, already soaring into the clouds, nearly impossible to catch.

“None must escape!” The Crimson Bird’s eyes burned red as it abandoned one beast and took to the skies, pursuing a winged foe. Though injured, it was still swift, vanishing into the clouds to silence the escapee before word could spread.

The Nine-Headed Lion and others were too wounded to give chase. The Five-Colored Luan Bird had nearly been torn apart, the Fire Crow nearly incinerated. They could barely hold their ground, let alone kill.

Little Rascal pursued another avian, riding the Golden Bone Scissors with one foot and the Lion-Dragon Mirror with the other. The two treasures merged their brilliance, multiplying his speed severalfold. He burned his essence recklessly, pushing himself to the limit.

For a brief moment, he could maintain this speed—but not for long, lest he exhaust himself to death.

Breaking through the clouds, he finally spotted the fleeing beast and swung his broken sword. The avian shrieked, its feathers igniting as it desperately accelerated, summoning treasures to block, fighting for survival.

If it escaped, it would bring the Roc’s ancestors down upon Little Rascal—ensuring his doom.

But the broken sword erupted, sealing its fate.

A vast wave of sword energy crashed down, not slicing—but crushing. With a thunderous explosion, the beast was obliterated.

Elsewhere, the Crimson Bird howled, wreathed in flames. Its treasure—a black cauldron forged from avian eggshell—radiated countless beams of light, clashing violently with another winged beast.

By the time Little Rascal arrived, the Crimson Bird was plummeting to the ground, howling in pain. “That *hurt*! I’m eating ten beasts to make up for this!”

Its opponent lay dead, but the Crimson Bird itself was barely alive, flapping weakly as it landed.

Little Rascal finished off the remaining beasts the Nine-Headed Lion had stalled, his strikes ruthless and precise. No trace of his usual playfulness remained.

“Damn it, two still got away.” Their expressions darkened. Even with mountains of remnant beast flesh—precious medicinal treasures—before them, there was no joy. The White Tiger and Golden Roc’s lineages were too powerful. If word leaked, disaster loomed.

Suddenly, a shrill avian cry echoed from above, followed by a rain of blood.

“Huh? Why’s that dumb bird back?” Little Rascal blinked in surprise.

The Crimson Bird, Five-Colored Luan, and Fire Crow bristled—they were avian too, and hated the insult.

Little Rascal shot upward on the Golden Bone Scissors, swinging the broken sword. With a *thud*, he decapitated the terrified, hate-filled remnant beast.

In the distance, several figures appeared—Princess Huo Ling, cradling the young deity, with cloaked figures surrounding her. They had driven the fleeing ancient avian descendant back.

“Thanks, Junior Sister!” Little Rascal landed, grinning as he clasped his hands in salute.

“Did… you kill all these remnant beasts?” Huo Ling’s beautiful eyes widened in disbelief as she approached. She and her guardians had watched from afar, obscured by the mist.

“Me? I’m not that brutal. I rarely kill!” Little Rascal denied immediately, turning to the Nine-Headed Lion and Crimson Bird. “See these savages? Covered in blood—*they* did it.”

The Nine-Headed Lion, Fire Crow, and Cyclops warriors rolled their eyes in unison. *Who’s the savage here? You did most of the killing!*

Huo Ling wasn’t fooled. Her shock deepened when she saw the White Tiger and Golden Roc among the slain.

*He killed a Golden-Winged Roc?!*

One of the cloaked figures dipped a finger in the pale golden blood, examining it closely before gasping. “This is at least a half-blooded divine bird—limitless potential, nearly unmatched in combat.”

Huo Ling, fifteen or sixteen, her flawless face glowing with youth, stared at Little Rascal with awe.

Little Rascal scratched his head sheepishly. “I know I’m dashing, but no need to stare. If you just stick to your diet, you might get close to my level.” His eyes wandered suggestively.

Huo Ling’s admiration evaporated instantly. “Die! Die, you little terror!”

The cloaked observers remained silent, their minds reeling. This boy had slain so many remnant beasts—including a half-blooded Roc. It was terrifying, soul-shaking.

“He’s so young, yet his potential is boundless.”

“Likely comparable to the Human Emperor in his youth. Truly fearsome.”

Their conclusions left them uneasy, staring at the bloodstained child with mixed awe and wariness.

“Ugh, one beast still escaped. Big trouble.” Little Rascal sighed.

“Now you’re scared? Should’ve thought before causing chaos!” Huo Ling gloated, her curvaceous figure swaying.

“They wanted to eat the Crimson Bird and my little brother! I had to fight, even if it brings calamity!” Little Rascal declared fiercely.

The Nine-Headed Lion was deeply moved, nearly roaring in agreement. The Fire Crow and Cyclops warriors also felt gratitude—without Little Rascal, they’d be dead.

Only the Crimson Bird scoffed. It knew the brat too well. Even without provocation, he’d have devoured the White Tiger and the rest.

“Stupid bird, why the eye-roll?” Little Rascal snatched its black cauldron and *clanged* it onto its head.

“I’ll fight you!” The Crimson Bird hopped madly, rubbing the lump on its skull.

“Keep whining, and I’ll eat *you*.” Little Rascal flashed his gleaming white fangs.

The Crimson Bird wilted. The kid *was* that ruthless—he’d eaten the Nine-Headed Lion, Five-Colored Luan, and even itself before.

“Junior Sister, your father’s the Human Emperor, right? Peerless in power, unrivaled in this land?” Little Rascal asked suddenly.

“So what?” Huo Ling eyed him suspiciously.

“If I became his sworn brother, no one would dare mess with me, right?”

Huo Ling’s delicate brows shot up. *This brat wants to be my uncle?!*

“Don’t get the wrong idea. He’s too old for me to swear brotherhood with,” Little Rascal clarified hastily.

“Too *old*?!” Huo Ling fumed.

Little Rascal grinned innocently. “Old folks love reminiscing. Doesn’t he want a youthful confidant? Someone as heroic as me is rare, you know.”

Huo Ling nearly laughed in exasperation. “You want my father’s protection after causing trouble? You’re delusional! A tiny brat like you, thinking you can be his peer?”

“Why not? Plenty of genius girls have godfathers centuries old. Maybe we’d hit it off!”

“Get lost!” Normally graceful and refined, Huo Ling nearly lunged at him, claws out.

Just then, the young wolf in her arms whimpered, sniffing toward a direction.

Little Rascal smacked his forehead. “Forget the Human Emperor! I don’t need him!” Snatching the young deity, he ordered, “Help me find that last escapee!”

The young deity, having observed everything, pointed silently.

Little Rascal’s smile vanished. Sword in hand, he shot off like lightning, the others following grimly.

They raced across the land, mountains blurring past. Guided by the young deity’s nose, they halted a hundred li away. Little Rascal swung his sword, splitting a stone mountain apart.

“Roar—!” A beast surged out, fear and hatred in its eyes. It hadn’t escaped after all.

In the end, not a single remnant beast—Golden-Winged Roc, White Tiger, or otherwise—survived.

“Now I can relax. Princess Huo Ling, Nine-Headed Lion, and I were ambushed, but after a bloody battle, we triumphed!” Little Rascal pumped his fist.

“I didn’t help. It was all you,” Huo Ling said quickly.

“Wasn’t it you who slaughtered them all?” The Nine-Headed Lion and others frowned.

“Enough talk! Look at this feast—makes my mouth water. Let’s eat!” Little Rascal cheered.

Huo Ling stayed silent, but her guardians murmured, “A half-blooded Golden-Winged Roc is a priceless treasure. Even if the Roc clan learns of this later, it’s worth it.”

She nodded. The divine bird’s blood was invaluable. She knew ancient recipes to maximize its medicinal effects—better than letting these gluttons waste it.

“This place is quiet. Let’s cook here.”

Together, they found a clear spring, skinning and cleaning the beasts. They would feast on ancient remnant flesh, using its divine essence to strengthen themselves.