The sun dipped into the west, casting a red glow across the hills, bathing the land in a crimson halo. The fading sunlight spread serenity and peace. As they neared Shi Village, this area lacked the savage beasts that prowled deeper inside the mountains, thus maintaining a sense of tranquility at the outer edge of the wilderness. “Finally close to home,” Little Rascal sighed with relief. However, just then—”Bang!”—the Azure-Scaled Eagle plummeted downward, its wings breaking off tall trees as it flew. Slowly exhausting its last strength, dark blood trickled endlessly from its wounds.
“Auntie, hold on! We’re almost there!” Shi Hao cheered for the eagle while holding on tightly.
A long cry echoed as the beast finally lost all its power, dropping swiftly through the sky, causing leaves to scatter wildly. Many ancient trees collapsed upon impact, but fortune had it that the eagle glided instead of falling straight down; otherwise, death or severe injury would have surely come.
“Boom!”
The treasured Lion-Dragon body held by the eagle hit the ground first, cracking massive stones around the forest. Then followed the heavy frame of the eagle, landing amidst bushes and plants. Carrying a bright red horn, Little Rascal rolled downward with ease. Light-footed and quick-witted, he dropped the several-metre-long horn at the proper time and avoided personal harm.
“Auntie, are you okay?” Shi Hao quickly scrambled up to rush over toward the eagle.
The descendant of an ancient evil avian was in terrible condition—inky-black blood oozed from wounds along with a putrid smell, weakening it entirely, making even rising difficult.
The eagle shrieked into the sky powerfully and sharply. The metallic-sounding scream shook Little Rascal’s eardrums painfully—he hurriedly covered his ears while surrounding foliage swirled chaotically.
“Yes, Auntie! If it hurts, cry loudly—it will help! This place isn’t too far away from our village. Brother Peng, Xiao Qing, and others must hear us! They’ll fetch the chief to rescue us,” said Little Rascal while scurrying over to the scarlet horn nearby. He sliced off a large portion covered in flesh and presented it to the eagle’s beak, explaining, “I heard a magical unicorn horn could detoxify, and this is a precious blood-tipped horn belonging to ancient lineage—a bull’s—but might help a little.”
He fed it into the beak carefully and shut it.
Only now did the fierce bird show softened eyes filled with gentle regard—akin to looking at their own offspring, revealing immense intelligence behind its ancient evil-avian bloodline.
“Hold on tight, Grand Chief Uncle will come any moment,” reassured Little Rascal, yet the passing moments brought forth roars from afar.
Worrying deeply, Little Rascal questioned inwardly whether Shi villagers heard the eagle’s distress calls. Should he return early, if any predator arrives under the weakened state of the eagle—the situation would certainly prove fatal.
Even if unheard directly, Little Rascal consoled himself with thoughts of Grand Chief sending aid eventually: “Be patient, everything gets better soon.” His tender child voice encouraged.
Low animal growls approached; rustling grew louder beyond distant shadows—the setting sun disappeared, bringing deep darkness upon this gloomy, eerie woodland.
“Eat some more treasure blood, Auntie.”
He reached once again for the flame-bull monster’s meat chunk to offer ahead.
Suddenly, a chill shot through every hair on his body. Instantaneously dodging sideways—a cold iron arrow zipped past his throat before embedding solidly into a rock behind him—clanging noisily.
At last, the dreadful piercing sound of the arrow arrived. Exceeding speed of sound, its force was terrifying—if delayed slightly earlier, his neck would’ve pierced through.
Another flash—a second arrow streaked forward; Little Rascal avoided once more. But a splatter of red appeared—the meat prepared for feeding the eagle pierced through instantly.
“A waste, really—feeding an almost-dead feral raptor… why not preserve it for us?” boomed a rough male tone.
“It’s YOU?!” Little Rascal exploded with fury recognizing the Bandit clan. Their archer leader loomed at 2.3–2.4m height, muscled heavily, with bulging veins like snakes beneath his skin.
Twenty plus figures emerged shadowy from all sides—all wielded strong bows, aiming deadly arrows squarely on him.
Fuming, Little Rascal glared wide-eyed: “Our village spared you last time, your clan vowed with life-oath. Now, yet you attempt my end?”
“A lovely little kid indeed—does a life oath outweigh a rare Lion-Dragon sacred body, or maybe surpass the value of a rare crimson horn from an ancient species?” replied a middle-aged Bandit cynically.
“Ssiiiii!!” Radiant silver light burst forth. No longer answering, Little Rascal spread both arms, creating a moonlight-circle shining vividly. Silver brilliance flowed as if the celestial god-moon literally descended to Earth. With lunar energy, he charged fearlessly against them when reasoning failed—preparing to battle fiercely.
Though still just a youth, countless tales warned him about ferocious brutality confronting beasts within the wild lands.
Now treating such attackers exactly like beasts, abandoning all pretense to humanity—they were no different than enemies seeking his life. His mission? Protect Auntie Azure-Fang.
For him, these people never showed true goodness compared to the so-called “evil” eagle who meant no harm—thus deserved no mercy anymore.
“Swish, Swish…” Iron-tipped death flew thick as rain—a dense barrage where each projectile carried over half a ton-force. Terribly deadly—one headshot killed easily, even monstrous strength wouldn’t survive such volleys.
So mercilessly many targeted one tiny child. Absolutely pitiless, grinning coldly—no remorse.
“Crack!”
Moonlight rotated, deflecting multiple arrows, the shafts snapped resisting the strike. Even steel yielded here broken.
“Don’t soften, it’s only a boy—but he possesses strong magic artifacts. Combine forces—kill him fast!” bellowed a giant thug.
“WoooOOO…”
The silver moon whirred through woods, cutting into midair screams as a loud howl answered—it severed shoulder and arm from the very man who shouted.
Blood sprayed; he screamed agonized collapsing.
“What powerful young brat! Retreat, prepare metal lances!”
Roared their hunting chieftain ordering immediate dispersal backward, using even heavier weaponry.
“Whooaa…”
Steel-tipped lances gleamed sinisterly slicing the skies. Each measuring two meters long and tens of jin’s weight—not short of impaling a fire rhino alive!
“Clank, Clank…”
Darting actively, Little Rascal blocked repeatedly using moonlight, splitting lance after relentless spear—sparks flew, sounds rang sharp. Peril escalated.
“KILL!”
Shi Hao’s eyes flared angrily. Though inherently good-hearted, cowardice wasn’t part of his spirit. Threatened this way—self-defense became essential duty.
“BuzzzZ!!!”
His silver moon shimmered violently as full-speed motion combined attack-defence. Dodging incoming lances, he dashed dozens of meters forward, throwing it fiercely. Brilliant lights cut through space; multiple screams sounded ahead. Between five and six lost arms, high arcs of blood spraying immediately.
Several spears skimmed his body narrowly, ripping clothes but no flesh. He ignored the near misses, focusing solely, unleashing his second lunar phase—glowing brighter as depicted tree symbols lit from its disk—scattering more radiant illumination.
“Puffhh!!!”
Flung over ten meters—cutting almost bisecting enemies guarding their leader, inflicting critical damage to all standing in front. Worst hit: the bandit leader whose abdominal gut slashed open, innards dangerously escaping next second.
“RUN!!!” cried the leader issuing command desperately. Bloodless face soaked in sweat despite orders given urgently.
They rallied wounded comrades, fled rapidly scattering amid the trees.
“This pup has something special—freaky power! Yet messages left already—Chief awaits not far. Surely arriving shortly!”
“Are you okay, Auntie Qing?”
Back racing anxiously, tears nearly spilled noticing a few embedded arrowheads plus a single spear lodged firmly inside wounds upon the eagle. Tender feelings overwhelmed him.
But kind eyes gazed lovingly back as she shook gently, remaining peaceful without crying out.
“Auntie… am I useless? Back then, hesitating even in crisis—I only wounded their shoulders & hands…”
Crying self-blaming as he wept.
Yet truly only a boy remained—who though clever and insightful beyond years still struggled to bring killing resolve like mature adults—though actions hurt, his soul trembled during conflict.
However, their injured foes stood defeated fully—no longer threats. Most suffered lifelong handicaps now, having lost parts of limbs.
Over ten miles afar, Bandits gathered quickly approaching direction, carrying wounded men upon makeshift stretchers occupied partly by an ill-faded looking teenager.
Coldly watching, fingers toying casually over teeth-beads necklace. An elder spoke softly,
“Surprisingly impressive! Already injuring our numerous kinsmen—worry less—‘Sacred Spirit’ provided divine tools this round—see what havoc he makes!”
“The Lion-Dragon Treasure lies there. ‘Sacred Spirit’ personally comes,” another added solemnly.
Simultaneously, merely miles off, entire Shi Village mobilized in tiger-like manner rushing into forest heading directly where Little Rascal lay hidden. Racing foremost—three young birds (Xiao Zi Yun, Da Peng & Xiao Qing) soared ahead frantically, beating wings with intense urgency.
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