Chapter 33: The Prodigy

With a swing of his arms, eight thousand jin of divine strength—this was just a child, not yet four years old. The people of Stone Village had never heard of such a thing, let alone seen it. They were all dumbfounded, their mouths agape.

A group of villagers shrieked in amazement and rushed forward, lifting the Little Rascal high into the air, then pinching and prodding him all over. “Are you sure you’re not some young beast in human form?” they marveled.

“What are you made of, Little Rascal?” Er Meng’s father, a burly man with a wide, bloodthirsty grin and gleaming white teeth, stared at him with bulging eyes as he squeezed and poked. The other strongmen acted the same, rough and unrestrained. Then, a swarm of children came running, yelling excitedly as they groped and pinched him before finally letting him go.

Little Rascal stood there, his body glowing with purity, his divine aura internalized. His long, silky black hair cascaded down his shoulders, his large eyes sparkling with vitality, brimming with boundless energy.

“The heavens truly favor our clan, sending us such a child!” muttered an elder, trembling with emotion, his lips quivering.

“Child, do you feel any discomfort?” Shi Yunfeng asked, worried that something might have gone wrong during his transformation.

Little Rascal’s voice was sweet and earnest. “No, I feel wonderful—full of energy and strength that I can’t seem to exhaust!”

The old clan leader burst into laughter, his tension melting away as he inspected him from all angles. It was as if he had shed ten years, the wrinkles on his face softening.

Then, Little Rascal lifted the eight-thousand-jin Jiao-Weng Cauldron again and walked a full circle around the clearing. Despite its immense weight, he didn’t even breathe heavily—his divine strength was truly awe-inspiring!

When he set the cauldron down, the earth trembled violently, shaking the ground and startling the villagers.

“With strength like this, forging weapons for you in the future will be a challenge,” one elder chuckled, though his proud grin suggested he wasn’t complaining in the least.

“Bring out the clan’s strongest bow! Let’s see if Little Rascal can draw it!” Shi Linhu grinned broadly.

The massive rhino-horn bow was far too large for him. Though he managed to draw it, his arms were too short to fully bend it.

“Lucky for us your arms are short—otherwise, you’d have snapped this treasure bow in half!” Shi Linhu wiped sweat from his brow as the villagers erupted in laughter.

Their warmth and sincerity shone through, their emotions unrestrained yet comforting.

“Little Rascal, come to Auntie’s house for roast meat today!”

“Boy, you’re nearly four now—it’s time to think about betrothal! What about Uncle Linhu’s Tiger Girl?”

“We’re talking about weapons, and you’re discussing marriage?”

The villagers were overjoyed. With a child like this, once he grew up, he would surely shake the world and protect their land, leading Stone Village to unprecedented glory.

“Little Rascal, though your baptism was successful and your strength has surged, you mustn’t grow arrogant. Remember, there are countless terrifyingly strong beings in this world,” the old clan leader warned solemnly.

“I know, Grandfather!” Little Rascal nodded seriously.

Still uneasy, Shi Yunfeng pressed further. “Legend says that in ancient times, a Sacred Ape wielded an iron staff weighing one hundred and eight thousand jin—without even relying on its strongest divine technique, just pure physical might!”

The children gawked, and the adults gasped in shock. The sheer terror of such power—wielding weapons was a far cry from merely lifting heavy objects. What kind of monstrous strength would that require?

Then, the villagers urged Shi Hao to leap, curious how high he could jump. The result stunned them all. With a mighty bound, he soared over thirty meters into the air before plummeting back down, landing like a spear, his feet embedding deep into the hard ground and cracking the earth.

“By the heavens! Next time we hunt in the mountains, you’re coming along. With your strength, you could take down giant beasts single-handedly!”

Little Rascal’s body had been completely reborn—his organs crystalline, bones translucent, every inch of flesh infused with divine runes, merging with his very essence. Within each fiber of his being, tiny points of light flickered like deities, the embodiment of divine runes, endlessly refining the essence of heaven and earth and drawing it into his body.

“Chirp! Chirp!”

Three young birds pushed through the crowd, their scales glimmering, wings flapping, their big eyes bright as if they could speak. Their strength was immense, shoving the other children aside.

“Da Peng! Qing! Zi Yun!” Little Rascal cried out, running toward them.

The birds chirped excitedly, nuzzling his arms affectionately in clear joy. For over half a month, they had been guarding their mother in a cave behind the village, only occasionally venturing out to play with him.

“Is Aunt Azure-Scaled Eagle alright now? With Grandfather’s medicine and the Netherfire Bull-Demon’s horn essence, she should be fully healed, right?” Little Rascal asked with concern. He had been undergoing his baptism and hadn’t been able to check on her.

“When we butchered the Sacred Jiao’s remains, we sent her portions of its flesh. She must be refining the essence right now,” the clan leader replied.

Without the Azure-Scaled Eagle’s life-and-death struggle in the mountains, they would never have secured the Sacred Jiao’s body. Stone Village hadn’t forgotten her sacrifice and had nursed her back from the brink of death.

At first, she had been too weak—even the Netherfire Bull-Demon’s horn essence for detoxification had nearly been too much. Only now, as she recovered, had the village been able to send her the Sacred Jiao’s blood and meat.

“With the Sacred Jiao’s essence in her, she might gain tremendous benefits,” Little Rascal mused.

A piercing screech split the sky, sharp as thunder, shaking eardrums. A massive raptor, its body wreathed in azure radiance, rose from behind the village, circling once before vanishing into the distant mountains.

“Is she leaving?” Little Rascal waved vigorously. “Goodbye, Aunt Azure-Scaled Eagle!”

A distant cry answered him as the bird disappeared into the clouds.

“She may be seeking seclusion to break through,” Shi Yunfeng said gravely.

“Break through?!”

The villagers exchanged stunned glances. If the Azure-Scaled Eagle grew even stronger, she would surpass even the Savage Wolf of Wolf Village. Joy soon followed—she was their ally, her strength a boon to Stone Village.

“You’ve all grown bigger!” Little Rascal laughed.

The young birds were now three meters long, their scales gleaming with newfound luster. Feasting on the Sacred Jiao’s flesh had greatly enhanced their intelligence and vitality.

“Grandfather, when do we get baptized?” The children stared eagerly, their fear of pain forgotten after witnessing Little Rascal’s transformation.

“We begin now—but you can’t handle the undiluted potion. It must be weakened!” Shi Yunfeng declared.

Thus, Stone Village bustled once more. Cauldrons boiled as the Sacred Jiao’s blood was carefully portioned, benefiting the entire clan.

That day, the village echoed with cries of agony as the children endured the searing pain. Even some adults partook, though sparingly—most couldn’t withstand the raw potency.

Two days later, peace returned. The remaining essence was sealed for gradual refinement, ensuring not a drop was wasted.

Finally, Shi Yunfeng presented a palm-sized, lustrous white bone—the Sacred Jiao’s forehead bone, bearing its primal runes. The village’s strongest men had labored for days to extract it.

“Little Rascal, for the next few days, focus solely on memorizing these runes,” the clan leader intoned gravely. “Once their vitality fades, the patterns will vanish, leaving only an artifact, not the divine technique.”

Unlike Wolf Village’s Beast-Tooth Necklace, where the runes had fused irreversibly, this bone still held its secrets.

Little Rascal nodded solemnly. For the entire day, he didn’t move, studying the bone’s ever-shifting runes with unwavering focus.

By midnight, he had committed the intricate patterns to memory.

“Grandfather, I’ve memorized it—but the Sacred Jiao’s technique is too complex. I don’t understand it yet,” he admitted.

Shi Yunfeng chuckled. “No one could grasp it instantly. Even reproducing a fraction of its might takes time. For now, master the Netherfire Bull-Demon’s technique. Greed leads to indigestion.”

“I understand, Grandfather!”

Two days later, groups of powerful figures arrived at the mountains.

Riders on silver-horned steeds, noble youths gliding on enormous skeletal beasts, and even figures astride flood dragons cutting through the air.

“Grandfather, look! This village’s totem is strange—a lightning-scorched willow with just one tender sprout!”

A snow-white feather, five meters long, shimmered with sacred light, bearing an old man, two youths, and two stunningly beautiful girls with otherworldly grace.

“What an odd totem. To survive such devastation and sprout anew—that shoot must be an extraordinary treasure!”

A child no older than five leaped down from his flood dragon, still a dozen meters in the air.

“What kind of village is this? How can they have such a totem?”

Another youth from a different clan gaped at the charred willow.

“There’s something mysterious here. Reborn from ruin—that single sprout must be priceless!”

“You all think you can take it from me? Let’s see who’s the true prodigy!” sneered the child who had jumped down.

“Fine! Then let’s duel—but only if the wager is precious blood capable of rebirth!”

The adults watched with keen interest, some even offering treasures to spur the competition.

“Fight! Let’s see who among you will dominate these lands in twenty years!”

“But don’t go killing their totem!”

The voices belonged to renowned powerhouses, their presence alone enough to shake the earth.