“The Kunpeng… a peerless powerhouse that has fallen through endless ages. What a pity that its supreme divine ability has been lost to time.” The Willow God sighed with emotion. Rooted in the void, its scorched and massive trunk towered into the heavens. A gentle breeze stirred, causing the chaotic mists to swirl as over a dozen emerald-green willow branches swayed lightly, as if returning to the era of creation.
“There should be no mistake. If the Kunpeng Treasure Spell still exists in this world, it must be in that sea.” The Willow God spoke thoughtfully after careful consideration.
“Can I go?” Little Rascal asked eagerly.
“Go. You must fight for it.” The Willow God affirmed.
“Great!” Little Rascal flipped in excitement, overjoyed. He had longed for such a divine ability and was finally about to witness a supreme technique. He recounted every detail of what had just transpired, leaving nothing out for the Willow God to judge—after all, this journey would involve traveling alongside beings from the Primordial Divine Mountain, making it perilous.
“In that realm, you can suppress and kill him.” The Willow God spoke calmly upon learning that the old man had once intended to harm Little Rascal.
The holy terror was stunned. The usually serene and peaceful Willow God could be so domineering—that old man was a supreme powerhouse from the Primordial Divine Mountain, yet the Willow God mentioned him without the slightest ripple of concern.
“Fortunately, he changed his mind,” the Willow God remarked. Had Little Rascal not broken through to the Tenth Heavenly Passage, prompting the old man to reconsider, a bloody battle might have erupted, shocking the world.
The wind blew, mist swirling as the Willow God stood transcendent amidst the vast ruins—its scorched ancient trunk and vibrant, crystalline branches shrouded in mystery.
“Willow God, I’ve opened the Tenth Heavenly Passage. Do I still need the baptism?” Little Rascal asked excitedly, eager to share his joy.
“You are extraordinary, exceeding my expectations.” This was the Willow God’s genuine praise. Originally, it had intended to assist him, but he had broken through on his own—an exceedingly rare feat. Most young prodigies required the protection and guidance of supreme powerhouses during such breakthroughs, given the immense danger.
For a wild child like Little Rascal to forcibly break through in the Void God Realm was nothing short of a miracle.
“Go and agree to his terms. Return soon—after this, I shall prepare your baptism,” the Willow God said.
The holy terror howled with delight, racing back through the golden passage to meet the old man.
“He’s back already!” The crowd gasped in astonishment, seeing the holy terror return so swiftly.
“Returned so soon? It seems you’ve made the right decision,” the old man said with a relieved smile.
“I haven’t agreed yet,” Little Rascal retorted, plopping down on the Flood Dragon’s back.
The unlucky Flood Dragon, a pure-blooded creature, had not only nearly been eaten but was now being used as a chair—leaving the onlookers speechless.
“Do you have any other demands?” the old man asked.
“Help me break the strange runes inside this Flood Dragon,” Little Rascal said.
“Impossible. Those are forbidden runes of its lineage. Even a god couldn’t undo them,” the old man shook his head.
Little Rascal’s hopes of obtaining the Flood Dragon’s technique were dashed.
“That area is too dangerous. I’ll help you open the path, but without any means of self-preservation, how can I dare go?” He feigned distress.
The old man’s smile stiffened—this brat was clearly trying to extort treasures.
“I’m risking my life for you, yet you won’t even ensure my safety? How cold,” Little Rascal sighed.
“What do you want?” the old man asked.
“Your clan’s treasure technique—” Seeing the old man’s darkening expression, he quickly added, “You’d never give it.”
“Only if my clan perishes,” the old man said flatly.
“Fine. Lend me one of those armguards. Just one is enough,” Little Rascal bargained.
“You can’t take it out of the Void God Realm,” the old man scowled.
“I just want to examine it. Not too much to ask, right?” Little Rascal said calmly.
He didn’t trust them—once they set sail and he outlived his usefulness, they might kill him. Though he had informed the Willow God, he still wanted leverage.
“I’ll return the armguard after we come back,” he added.
The old man frowned. If the boy died, the armguard would be lost unless they could extract his soul—but that would be nearly impossible in such a perilous sea.
“Are you planning to kill me once I’ve served my purpose?” Little Rascal teased.
“Even my descendants may not survive. You’re making this difficult,” the old man sighed.
“Then I won’t go. Why throw my life away?” Little Rascal stood firm.
Silence fell as tensions rose.
“Fine. One armguard,” the old man relented, handing over a treasure.
Little Rascal accepted it calmly, though inwardly stirred—the Kunpeng Treasure Spell was truly extraordinary, enough to draw out ancient beasts at any cost.
“Grandfather, we can’t lose this treasure!” the purple-robed girl urged anxiously.
“Stingy, for someone so plump,” Little Rascal muttered.
“Who’s plump?!”
Donning the armguard, he felt his left arm surge with power—as if it could pierce the heavens. But the realm’s suppression quickly reined it in.
Then, his expression turned solemn. Through a private message, he projected images of a man and woman, demanding the old man investigate their whereabouts—his condition for setting sail.
The old man was taken aback—this was troublesome.
Little Rascal’s eyes reddened, his resolve unshaken. The old man eventually conceded.
“Then it’s settled. You’ve reached the pinnacle of the Heavenly Passage Realm and can advance to the next stage anytime. We’ll await you,” the old man said, preparing to leave.
“Old man, stay a while longer. Share some wisdom with this junior,” Little Rascal called out.
“I have matters to attend to,” the old man said stiffly, eager to leave after being humiliated by a child.
“What to do with this dragon? Eat it?” Little Rascal mused, having already sampled its broth—its essence was potent even in the Void God Realm.
“Entrust it to me. You may need each other on the voyage,” the old man suggested.
“It attacked me. If I let it go, everyone will think they can challenge me,” Little Rascal refused.
“This is a descendant of a Primordial Divine Mountain,” the old man warned.
“So beings from the Divine Mountains can do as they please? If it tried to kill me, it should be prepared to be eaten,” Little Rascal retorted.
“What do you want?”
“Ransom it with a divine technique or treasure,” he said matter-of-factly.
The old man’s temple throbbed—this child was truly infuriating.
Two towering golden figures emerged—divine servants of the Primordial Divine Mountain, their bodies covered in radiant fur and dense runes.
“Let bygones be bygones. Our young master will sail with you—consider this a bond of goodwill,” one said.
Little Rascal scoffed. “If everyone tries to kill me and calls it ‘goodwill,’ I might as well end my life now.”
The old man left, confident the boy wouldn’t kill the dragon—but someone would pay dearly.
The golden beasts bowed respectfully as their masters departed.
“Young one, we acknowledge your strength, but the Divine Mountain is not to be trifled with,” one warned.
“Are you threatening me?” Little Rascal stepped forward, golden symbols swirling as he prepared to strike.
The crowd tensed—this savage child feared nothing.
“Very well. We’ll ransom our young master,” the beasts relented.
In the end, Little Rascal obtained an incomplete ancient thunder technique—powerful but flawed.
Back in Stone Village, the great willow glowed with auspicious light, shrouded in chaotic mist.
For half a month, the Willow God had been preparing—solemn and deliberate.
“The world is descending into chaos. I must prepare—not just for your baptism, but for my own transformation,” it explained.
The Kunpeng Treasure Spell was a supreme technique that could awaken unfathomable beings. Even the Willow God sought it to heal its wounds and grow stronger.
With multiple warnings of impending chaos, Little Rascal felt the urgency to grow stronger—fast.
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