Bei Feng had barely begun to rise when Shi Hao flew toward him like a young Peng bird mid-air, and then landed a heavy foot strike upon his chestplate, eyes ablaze with a penetrating glance down at him. With a “Boom!” the surrounding mountain terrain quivered, and this mighty youth named Bei Feng fell prone once more without a chance to rise. None harbored any doubts about the tremendous force behind Shi Hao’s kick. The onlookers from Bei Village were stunned; they held such deep reverence for Bei Feng who was gifted beyond measure, thus none expected defeat—at the hands of a small fry no less. With the snap of tension rising, archers from Bei Village bent their bows back aiming death at Shi Hao for rescue purposes; incensed, Shi Fei Jiao and gang drew their massive bows, ready to ignite a chaotic fight scene.
Suddenly, the air sizzled like fire crackling as Shi Hao gripped Bei Feng with an iron grasp by the collar and heaved him upright as a living shield shielding his form directly, confronting his aggressors’ arrows’ wrath. Anger raged in Bei Feng whose normally calm disposition cracked under pressure today—a deeply humiliating day being subdued and held fast by some little brash upstart; death held less dread than this unbearable indignation, he struggled intensely throwing strikes toward his pint-sized attacker.
Though young Shi’s combat experience lacked maturity, dexterity served him as radiant empyrean symbols whirled upon one outstretched palm meeting one incoming fist dead on. With an audible slap, his opponent was sent reeling with force; a gasp for air as blood gushed from his mouth—strikes losing their strength. Not wasting time, Shi Hao dragged Bei Feng whose torso hung drooping from his clutches while springing into motion back across the battlefield toward Shi Lin Hu’s direction; though Bei stood nearly full-bodied taller than young masterlet he resembled now but a ragged piece of discarded meat dragged along ground’s sharp bramble and rocks leaving him tattered hair flailing wildly against the sharp mountain stones contrasting starkly with images once handsome and icy—a far cry now from his cold elite aura of yesteryear.
Still meters afar young master Shi launched Bei Feng who hurtled through air and smacked hard near where Shi Lin Hu gathered sending him skimming across rugged terrain as blood dripped anew, eyes now smoldered with hatred. With fire igniting every nerve end Shi Fei Jiao bellowed forth regardless—”Whelp! Daring to growl and bite huh—you think?” Before foot found ground once more, CRUNCH—an additional four ribs or so joined prior injuries beneath his soles beneath thunderous crackles.
Though power matched, defeat already cast Bei Feng to shackled helplessness making resistance moot. The agony soaked him like monsoon rains, he gritted teeth hard stifling anguished groans. Nearby came Shi Lin Hu’s admonition “Shi Hao—you erred through lenicity in the fight’s ebb! Opportunities abounded to strike heavy, yet you hesitated! After seizing your foe further you struck with mercy rather than might—too soft-hearted!”
At the reprimand young masterlet fidgeted in bashfulness starkly unlike his earlier battle-ready feral self as it marked his very first such skirmishing urgency ignited after watching almost-fatal shots nearly claim his kinsmen at cold-blooded attackers’ bows—an impulsion propelling him into the fray wholeheartedly.
“Please! Dear friends from Shi Village!” The voices of mediators from Bei village cried urgently beseeching halt—”Let mercy grace him! Discuss and debate perhaps?” Indeed, should the life prematurely drain out this promising genius, repercussions upon his entire tribe loom colossal.
“How ‘please’ did you phrase before seizing hard-won hunts! Murder attempts upon my kin—how dared silence your mouths cry ‘reason’ when unleashing merciless bolts?!” Retorted Shi Lin Hu thunderously. A moment later Shi Fei Jiao stamped once again with another crack—an armbone now succumbed beneath relentless trouncing. Distression etched deep but no cry passed his lips.
“Please! Stay your rage! All fault lies at our feet, can’t penance make things right?” Desperate words fell from the lips of an elder villager, but his words bore no weight. Even their leader bellowed frantic for talks instead of carnage—a hulking being towering two point three-four meters, imposing in his stature now stripped entirely of bravado’s earlier intensity.
“Talk of what kind? Before hands speak we pound!” roared out Er Meng’s sire who carried his village’s mounting anguishes too, and these simmering emotions couldn’t resolve by mere conversation so lightly dismissed.
A deafening boom resounded. This patriarch unleashed one giant palm swung outward crashing hard against Bei Feng’s face ripping the surface raw and split while his helpless body spun through air for meters propelled like a rag doll launched afar under sheer forceful impact. “Pup—you dare glare sharp-eyed at us yet? The deathly volleys which riddled my kin—how savagely each bolt pierced vital organs! Your arrogance’s gone cold now! Step up oncemore if you will!” Another strike erupted—”Boomed!”
Fate tossed Bei Feng tumbling until his body came crashing at Shi Lin Hu’s feet, who responded not a heartbeat late—giving an almighty heave kicking the hapless prey afar. Even as a strong boy might Bei Feng not withstand crushing pressure: multiple ribs surrendered to violence of impacts and with blood spilling freely and sweat pouring freely from agony-ravaged temples, all pride now dissolved into silence.
Once haughtily towering, cruel, and dictatorial, Bei had now sunk pitilessly into captivity, his glory lost—body dazed and shattered beneath endless barrage of merciless punishment, the cold cruel mask now torn apart revealing vulnerability’s stark visage.
Yet further the Shi Clan bore relentless spirits. Enraged at the audacity shown but hours ago, they surged forward with fists raining one blow at each step.
Wilderness dwellers possessed strong frames, built to endure brutal conditions and survive harshness—it only took a mere moment of unrelenting abuse before Bei Feng nearly neared destruction’s edge, bones shattered at alarming counts. His frame, once proud and unyieldingly upright now hung limp as though drained completely. “Stop!” Desperation gripped onlookers, for archers from Bei prepared to unleash salvos that threatened escalation once Bei’s life teetered on verge of loss—nay, they dared not dream again at a gifted seed growing.
Yet voices silenced as the decree rang forth “Stay put all—retire to sidelines we’re yet to vent fully, discussions await only once we calm ourselves fully.”
Thus spake Shi Fei Jiao, amidst the throng’s continuous kicks and slaps that battered Bei Feng’s form beyond recognition—an image marred entirely from former icy-cruel self into pitiable, bruised ruin.
At such point young children sprang forward to vent as well—and none so enthusiastically than the rascal who delightedly barked insults “You attempted taking Papa’s life? Let see who stands higher now as my small hero bested thou!”
Indeed! Shi Hao—barely thrice spun suns past infancy compared to this older thud with years beyond reckoning—you were vanquished outright by he! Their collective voices berating amidst blows rained down with righteous fury!
Eventually swarmed young Master Hao became himself the focus of attention. None within Shi Clan anticipated he would single-handedly subdue youth rivaling Shi Lin Hu’s strength—a feat deserving of all their admiration freely poured forth.
Meanwhile desperation etched lines of concern through Bei clan members. The genius approached the brink of disablement or mutilation akin almost to a dying beast’s pitiable whimper. “Let peace reign,” they begged.
“Halt your fury! Can we resolve peace through parley!” Pleaded they, though the very air carried their helplessness.
“To parley let’s then begin at this vantage!” declared Shi Lin Hu plonking unapologetically fullweight astride Bei Feng’s battered trunk. The sight writhing like a human chair for such a powerful being caused a pained clench deep with the opposing party’s observers. This towering hulken nearly nigh twenty-five feet! Crush down his seated might upon even a bull’s with no quarter! Yet humility must be swallowed—they could only speak soft-words lest anger escalate.
“As kin living amidst The Wilderness then naturally let tolerance bind us—grant mercy upon youthful brashness shown.” Entreated this eloquent hunter seeking to soften hardened hearts.
Spitting with disdain Shi Fei Jiao erupted “Words flow smooth—yet where lay humility before hand? What drove arrows against my brethren?”
With a wave Shi Lin Hu bared his frustration “Cease droning sweet nothings—we weary of rhetoric speak terms instead of what payment do you offer us.”
Silence followed—each Bei Villager hesitated until at length their chieftain spoke: “We humbly offer atonement alongside gifting every hunt secured unto your arms!”
Eyes rolled at arrogance thinly veiled Er Meng’s father spoke sarcastically “Are these trophies not OUR by right already considering the harm inflicted? Some apologies—cheap indeed!”
Another compromise surfaced: “In reparation we withdraw permanently from this forest expanse renouncing all hunting claim to you, forever refraining trespass hereafter! That offer—should appease?” they beseeched earnestly.
But all it earned was jeers as harsh tones rained down hard “Empty words, none here detect sincerity worth considering.”
Then final decree came firm from lips of Shi Lin Hu cutting off debate: “Enough! Spare that wretch if weapons relinquish in full. All conditions agreed upon already; every weapon laid low at our altars, then bear this boy homewards. Else abandon hope of seeing either!”
The outcry from Bei Village was furious: “Impossible!” After all, weapons held lifelines here within savage lands, where ore’s scarcity made forging difficult; arms held near-sacredness. Lives bound to their edge and strength.
But then silence fell as negotiations soured; a final desperate voice rang forth. From the elders’ ranks one figure surged and screamed in desperate tones. Reluctant agreement finally crystallized: pile upon pile iron missiles rolled forth toward encircling clans: lances of iron, great recurve bows of dragon-bone sinew, and sharp cleavers forged for the wilderness. Even as their spirits cried out—yet they understood the truth, even with weapons lost they still held ember of renewal. But if this gift’s light extinguished, who would save the tribe?
But destiny’s wheel turned by the actions of one child—through that sudden burst of valor changing course from inevitable bloodletting—thus many warriors were spared from certain doom.
With riches heavy laden upon backs the company marched home joyously celebrating in victory. Though the village knew a period of quietude beyond these walls lay mountains writhing restlessly in unrest echoing roars terrifying enough that lands trembled and stones rolled in cascading slides from heights.
At last, grave news swept through. A messenger arrived before elder Shi Yun Feng and stated gravely, “Elder—within mountain’s fickle embrace, the terrible lion-shaped beast roams restlessly, nearing life’s inevitable twilight. Each day brings forth fresh anguish howls.”
That monstrous beast—verily the last living descendant of an era when creatures mighty held domain—within this wilderness, such beasts reigned untouchables. Were its corpse ours—if from it we draw forth true-blood and inscribe sacred glyphs insculpturing ancestral wisdom, the fortune awaiting would rival opening the fabled divine vault of ancient treasures!
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