**”Crack!”**
The great fissure spread like the earth itself was splitting apart. The entire Sky Mending Pavilion shattered into fragments, a sight so terrifying it sent chills down the spine! From high above, one could see black crevices crisscrossing the ground like a spider’s web, with one area even collapsing into a dark abyss.
Little Rascal clenched his fists, then leaped swiftly into the air. A pair of golden divine wings unfurled behind him, and though he didn’t soar into the heavens, his feet barely touched the ground as he dashed toward the dwelling of the Sacred Guardian.
Chaos engulfed the Sky Mending Pavilion. Eight or nine spiritual mountains plunged into the abyss, black fissures spreading like veins, causing ancient structures to crumble and cracks to appear across sacred peaks. Panic surged through the crowd—everyone sensed that the tremors originated from the old vine. Something earth-shattering must have happened.
Little Rascal moved with incredible speed. Each time his toes touched the ground, he propelled himself forward like the wind, his Roc wings humming with thunderous resonance, cloaking his body in radiant golden light. Along the way, he saw ancient palaces collapse into ruins, walls shattered, rubble strewn everywhere. Even the mighty formations had failed to protect these grand halls. Under the inexplicable wrath of the heavens, even the mighty Sky Mending Pavilion had been reduced to scorched earth—now nothing more than a relic.
Fortunately, this devastation was limited to certain areas. Many spiritual peaks remained untouched, their palaces still glowing, a testament to the sect’s former glory.
**”Sacred Guardian!”**
Soon, Little Rascal breached the forbidden zone and laid eyes on the ancient courtyard. His jaw dropped—he could hardly believe what he saw.
The old vine was gone. In its place stood an enormous tree, its canopy blotting out the sky, shrouded in a mist of primordial chaos. Rubbing his eyes, he stared in awe. The towering tree bore emerald leaves shimmering with divine light, its presence evoking the dawn of creation itself.
**”It’s still… the Sacred Guardian!”** He was dumbfounded.
The gourd vine had transformed—its roots had thickened into a colossal trunk that pierced the heavens, its massive leaves rustling as they radiated iridescent light. Mist of chaos billowed from it, an otherworldly spectacle.
**”What is that?”** Little Rascal’s heart pounded.
The vine pulsed with radiant energy, its tendrils branching like emerald spears—one of which had impaled a monstrous figure, blood dripping in a gruesome cascade. The blood was extraordinary, shimmering with five-colored divine light, exuding an aura so terrifying it made even distant onlookers tremble, compelling them to prostrate in reverence.
The sheer power of this being was unimaginable.
Little Rascal shifted positions, trying to glimpse the creature’s true form. At first, he thought it was a demonic bird—its vast, pristine wings stained with five-colored blood. But then he saw legs, powerful and humanoid.
**”A humanoid creature!”**
He moved again, finally getting a clear view. The being stood dozens of zhang tall, his body wreathed in holy radiance. He had the form of a man, yet bore massive, snow-white wings. His face was strikingly handsome, a third eye embedded in his forehead, flickering with thunderous light.
He wasn’t dead yet. His golden hair blazed like molten gold, and between the strands protruded a pair of dragon horns, violet and wreathed in mist, covered in dense runes.
**”What kind of being is this? He’s unbelievably strong!”**
The creature’s chest had been pierced, yet he still fought, his third eye unleashing a tempest of lightning toward the divine vine. But then—a green gourd swayed on the vine, resonating with the Dao, swallowing the thunderous onslaught.
Little Rascal was stunned. **”What level of power is this? Who dares challenge the Sacred Guardian?”**
The battle was nearing its end. Despite the humanoid creature’s overwhelming aura, he was no match for the vine.
**”Pfft!”**
The green gourd trembled, releasing ripples of Dao essence that shattered the thunder, cracking the third eye. Blood sprayed.
**”So strong!”** Little Rascal gasped. The ripples seemed gentle, yet they obliterated the creature’s divine eye before slicing toward his dragon horns.
The being thrashed violently, his horns blazing with violet light. A dragon’s roar erupted as a colossal purple dragon manifested, attempting to sever the vine.
But the gourd shook harder. A beam of chaos struck the horns—**”Crack!”**—shattering them into dust.
At the same time, the emerald vine surged upward, piercing the creature’s skull.
The battle was over.
The sky was still filled with dense runes, as if the gods themselves had been chanting, fading only as the conflict concluded.
Little Rascal was awestruck. He hadn’t witnessed the earlier clash, but the aftermath alone spoke volumes.
Above, the humanoid creature burned, his body dissolving into primal essence, absorbed by the vine. Even his five-colored blood was devoured, nourishing the Sacred Guardian.
The vine shrank, reverting to its original form.
Meanwhile, the earth mended itself. The fallen spiritual mountains rose anew, the ruined palaces reassembled—as if time itself had reversed.
Little Rascal stood frozen, mouth agape.
**”Was this really a dying, withered vine?”**
He had always thought the gourd vine was peaceful. Yet it had just slaughtered an unimaginable entity.
**”I am dying,”** the old vine suddenly spoke, its voice weary.
**”Elder, I think you can live at least another thousand years,”** Little Rascal whispered, still shaken by its might.
**”Outward strength, inner decay. My time is near.”**
The Pavilion Master and elders arrived, grief-stricken. If the Sacred Guardian perished, could the Sky Mending Pavilion endure?
**”Are you evacuating?”** the vine asked.
**”We have begun,”** the Pavilion Master replied solemnly.
**”Hurry. My time is short.”**
One elder pleaded, **”Please, leave behind your divine seed. One day, our sect will rise again—and so will you.”**
The vine rustled. **”You mean this?”**
A green gourd glowed amidst swirling chaos.
**”In a thousand years, another vine may grow… but it will not be me.”**
Silence fell.
The elders wept. The Sacred Guardian had protected them since antiquity, yet now it faced its end with serene acceptance.
**”If not for the ancient war, the Sacred Guardian would have lived much longer,”** the Pavilion Master muttered, fists clenched in helpless frustration.
—
Far beyond, a monstrous avian blotted out the sky, its wings spanning thousands of miles, eyes like blood moons in the darkness.
**”The divine seed will be mine.”**
Elsewhere, a figure bathed in divine light mused, **”Centuries ago, they said it was dying—yet it slew a supreme being. Now, they claim it has been reborn. Another fool paid the price.”**
The figure vanished upon a golden path.
Other mysterious presences also withdrew, no longer lingering.
—
In the days that followed, the Sky Mending Pavilion buzzed with excitement. Disciples celebrated, believing their Sacred Guardian had been reborn stronger than ever.
But the elders remained grim, burdened by unspoken dread.
Little Rascal, however, immersed himself completely in cultivation.
After a month of relentless study, he finally mastered the Kunpeng Bone, comprehending every nuance of its transformations.
As he meditated in the sacred land, a miraculous phenomenon unfolded behind him—an endless ocean, waves crashing against the heavens. A colossal egg, black and gold, floated amidst the tides before cracking open.
**”Boom!”**
A gargantuan fish emerged, stirring the seas. Then—it transformed.
The fish became a Roc, soaring ninety thousand miles into the sky, its power enough to refine all creation, to split heaven and earth!
This was no mere illusion. Behind Little Rascal, it was as if a real world existed—an ocean without end, a Kunpeng whose wings eclipsed the firmament.
**”Success!”**
He had taken the first step in reviving the lost art of one of the Ten Supreme Beasts of antiquity. Though the path ahead was long, the seed had been planted.
And with his talent, it would one day bloom into a peerless divine technique.
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