Chapter 176: Forging Alliances

The gentle breeze naturally recognized him—the silver-robed youth was the top genius of their generation, renowned far and wide, with many senior disciples sighing in admiration. Yet, no one understood why he had come here.

“With horns of prominence, the first prodigy—he once stayed in our genius camp, incredibly formidable, with astonishing potential,” someone remarked.

Upon hearing this, Xiao Tian’s lips twitched uncontrollably. He loathed such praise. He had indeed been selected for the genius camp before being swiftly taken away by an ancient monster, so he naturally knew Qing Feng.

Little Rascal grinned wryly. *Why bring up old grievances?* He hadn’t expected to meet again so soon. But he felt no fear, standing his ground with righteous confidence. “Brother, what wisdom do you have to share, blocking my path like this?”

Xiao Tian’s face darkened. He had every reason to believe that the so-called “kindred spirit” in Hundred Broken Mountains was none other than this brat—the one who had ambushed him not once, but multiple times! The more he thought about it, the more certain he became. His teeth clenched, veins bulging on his forehead, he nearly lunged forward to start a full-blown battle.

“You’re that holy terror from the Void God Realm! You ambushed me in the second battlefield, and in Hundred Broken Mountains, we searched for the Taiyi True Water together—wasn’t that you?” He demanded a direct answer.

“How heartbreaking. To see you grit your teeth at me, after all the kindness I’ve shown you,” Little Rascal sighed, shaking his head.

“So it really is… you?!” The silver-robed youth nearly jumped out of his skin, as if someone had stepped on his tail. The humiliation was unbearable—he could practically taste blood in his mouth. After suffering repeated ambushes, he had been stewing in frustration, only to later regard the holy terror as a comrade in Hundred Broken Mountains. His face darkened to an unprecedented degree.

“You’ve gone too far! I’ll fight you to the death!” he roared, silver radiance erupting from his body as he charged like a white dragon, unleashing his strongest attack.

Without hesitation, Little Rascal plucked the Divine Striking Stone from his hair and hurled it. Though its trajectory was erratic, it struck Xiao Tian square on the forehead with a resounding *clang!*

“Ahhh! It hurts! It hurts so much!” The stone wailed, rolling around on the ground dramatically.

Qing Feng gaped in shock. *Since when could stones talk—and scream in pain?!*

Meanwhile, Xiao Tian staggered back, clutching his forehead in agony. He wanted to howl in pain too, but the absurdity of the stone’s theatrics left him dumbfounded. *Who’s actually in pain here?!*

“It hurts! It hurts!” The stone continued its exaggerated performance.

After a dazed moment, Xiao Tian finally snapped back to reality. Touching the rapidly swelling lump on his head, he erupted in fury. *Damn it all!* Another “prominent horn” had sprouted!

“Ahhh! I’ll kill you!” The silver-robed youth lunged again, silver runes blazing as a ferocious silver Bixian materialized.

“I really don’t want to beat you up,” Little Rascal said, though his actions spoke otherwise—darting forward, shattering the silver Bixian, and swiftly retrieving the Divine Striking Stone.

“But I *do* want to thrash you!” Xiao Tian, hailed as the top genius of this generation in the Sky Mending Pavilion, was formidable. His outburst drew a crowd of young onlookers among the bamboo grove.

“Die!” Xiao Tian bellowed, his body engulfed in silver runes that transformed into pristine feathers. He soared into the air like a winged beast, raining down radiant techniques like a storm of light.

Little Rascal responded with brutal simplicity—he threw the Divine Striking Stone again. Same spot, same force. Another *thud*, and Xiao Tian was back on the ground, clutching his head and howling.

The legendary Divine Striking Stone never missed its mark—hence its reputation as a supreme treasure.

“Ow! Are you done yet?! Why hit me again?! It hurts!” The stone rolled around, stealing the show with its theatrics. The crowd was speechless, while Xiao Tian crouched on the ground, panting, tears nearly welling up. The pain was unbearable.

The worst part? The stone was clearly unharmed, yet it always screamed first, making it awkward for him to voice his own agony.

“I… I’ll…” The silver-robed youth’s lump had now morphed into a full-blown horn, larger and taller than before.

But before he could finish his threat, Little Rascal cut him off. “You should be thanking me. Why fight me?”

“Thank you?! You’re a villain through and through!” Xiao Tian snarled, though he had to control his expression to avoid aggravating his wound.

Little Rascal smirked. “Think about it—if someone else had knocked you out twice, would you still be alive? Would they have returned the Sky Mending Stone? Would they have shared the Taiyi True Water with you in Hundred Broken Mountains? More likely, they’d have killed you outright.”

Xiao Tian deflated. He knew it was true—had it been anyone else, they wouldn’t have spared him. His emotions were a tangled mess.

“All in all, I’ve done you a tremendous favor. You owe me *two* lives,” Little Rascal said cheerfully.

At first, Xiao Tian seemed to relent, but as the words sank in, his teeth clenched again. “By that logic, should I be grateful to every villain who doesn’t kill me?”

“Big Brother is a good person! He never bullies anyone!” Qing Feng protested indignantly.

Xiao Tian stared at the boy’s earnest, innocent expression and felt utterly defeated. *If that holy terror is a ‘good person,’ then there are no villains left in this world.*

“Qing Feng understands me best,” Little Rascal preened, thoroughly pleased with himself.

“Show’s over. Nothing to see here,” Er Meng declared, shooing the crowd away.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in crimson, the onlookers dispersed, wary of the ghostly presence rumored to haunt Little Rascal.

“Come on, I’ll treat you to some wine—authentic Monkey Wine, priceless and rare,” Little Rascal said, clapping Xiao Tian on the shoulder.

Still fuming, Xiao Tian couldn’t shake his resentment. “Can we have a proper fight? No tricks, no stones—just pure skill. Otherwise, I won’t accept defeat!”

“Fine. I’ll grant your wish. Let me show you what a true, peerless champion looks like!” Little Rascal declared, beckoning him with a smirk.

Even Qing Feng blushed. *Why does Big Brother have to be so insufferable sometimes?*

With a *whoosh*, the silver-robed youth charged, runes intertwining as he unleashed his full power, determined to crush Little Rascal.

But his hopes were dashed. Not only was Little Rascal’s physique unparalleled, but his cultivation realm also surpassed Xiao Tian’s—having opened the legendary *ninth* heavenly passage, a feat rarely seen in human history!

*Thud! Thud! Thud!*

Xiao Tian was battered senseless. No matter how hard he fought, he was no match. Soon, not just his forehead but his ears, chin, and even his eyes bore the marks of battle—swollen like a deity from the Western Paradise’s stone carvings.

In the end, he surrendered. What choice did he have? If this continued, he’d resemble a vengeful spirit more than a human.

“Let’s go drink,” Little Rascal said as the evening breeze rustled through the bamboo.

They found a clearing, set up a bronze cauldron, and began stewing golden roc meat. Multiple bonfires crackled, roasting the flesh of ancient direbeasts.

“These… these are all direbeasts?!” Qing Feng’s eyes nearly popped out of his head.

Soon, the aroma of sizzling meat filled the air, the golden roc flesh glowing like a treasure herb.

“Eat up, Qing Feng. You’re too frail. Your rune mastery is excellent, but your body needs strengthening,” Little Rascal urged, piling his plate with roc meat.

“It’s delicious!” Qing Feng devoured the meat with gusto, his body soon radiating light.

“Whoa! I feel like I’m floating!” He panicked, his body surging with energy.

“Take it easy. Bring the rest back and eat it gradually. This meat’s potency is too strong for you all at once,” Little Rascal advised, recognizing the signs of an impending breakthrough.

Xiao Tian, initially sulking, couldn’t resist the feast. His eyes locked onto the spread of direbeast delicacies.

“Join us,” Little Rascal offered.

“He should be polite. I doubt there’s enough,” Er Meng muttered, though the real bottomless pit was the golden furball—devouring meat at an alarming rate.

Eventually, Xiao Tian caved, savoring every bite, nearly swallowing his tongue.

Suddenly, the furball stopped eating, sniffed the air, and lunged for Little Rascal’s wine cup. The liquid shimmered under the moonlight, its fragrance intoxicating.

“Don’t grab! There’s enough for everyone!”

“Monkey Wine?!” Xiao Tian’s eyes widened, all grievances forgotten.

Under the moon, they drank the divine liquor, their bodies light as if ready to ascend. Xiao Tian suppressed the urge to break through—he wasn’t prepared yet.

Qing Feng, however, erupted with energy, his runes resonating as he unlocked his *second* heavenly passage.

Er Meng babbled drunkenly in bird language, while the golden furball wobbled around the fire, practicing drunken monkey fist—nearly tumbling into the flames.

By midnight, all were sprawled out, dead drunk. Only the Divine Striking Stone remained awake—and miserable, as the furball clung to it, gnashing its teeth in its sleep.

In the dead of night, Little Rascal awoke. The fire still burned, but a chill crept over him. A shadowy figure emerged—an old man with disheveled hair, an ancient sword embedded in his skull, caressing a broken blade with sorrow.

“Ancient times… you’ve buried too much. Time flows like water, never to return,” the old man lamented.

Little Rascal felt a dark energy dissipate from his forehead—the curse was finally lifted.

“Elder, since I’ve retrieved this sword, how about teaching me one or two supreme techniques?” he asked shamelessly, though he *had* rendered a great service.