Golden strands of hair, stained with blood, drifted down as a small patch of scalp was sliced off, crimson liquid trickling. “You made me bleed!” The golden-haired youth touched his head, veins throbbing faintly on his forehead. In a moment of carelessness, he had allowed someone to close the distance, resulting in this humiliation.
“Boom!” With a flap of his wings, golden lightning surged forth like coiling serpents, arcing toward Shi Hao with terrifying force, the crackling electricity enough to shake one’s soul. He was truly enraged. At merely sixteen years of age, he had already reached the Engravement Realm, his talent monstrous. Initially, he had mocked and toyed with his opponent, intending to slowly break him—only to suffer such a grievous blow.
This was his racial gift—his Wind-Thunder Wings had turned golden, interwoven with lightning, radiating divine might!
“Bang!” Shi Hao sidestepped like a celestial sword cleaving through the void, appearing a hundred zhang away in an instant. The spot where he had stood was swallowed by golden lightning, crackling violently.
“Your life is forfeit!” the golden-haired youth roared, his handsome yet eerie face contorted in fury. Having a piece of his scalp sliced off was an unprecedented disgrace. For a prodigy like him, reputation was everything—such humiliation was unbearable.
A draconic roar echoed as a colossal flood dragon materialized behind him, coiling like a storm cloud. Simultaneously, he drew his bow again, this time channeling immense divine power. His earlier arrogance had cost him dearly, and now he would not hold back.
“Whoosh!” The moment the bowstring released, a dazzling golden arrow shot forth like a ten-zhang-long rainbow, piercing the heavens.
Shi Hao’s body blazed with light as divine essence surged within him, transforming into countless miniature cauldrons that flowed through his flesh, replacing divine radiance and merging into glyphs. He himself seemed to morph into a three-legged, two-eared cauldron, exuding an enigmatic aura of the Dao.
At the same time, he invoked the Black Tortoise Divine Ability—black tidal waves surged as a massive tortoise, formed from cauldron-glyphs, rose to intercept the arrow.
Cauldrons were versatile—offense, defense, ever-changing, embodying the profound mysteries of the heavens. Their complexity lay not in form but in the glyphs they represented, intricate and demanding to craft.
Shi Hao sought both defense and offense, hence shaping his divine essence into cauldrons before reassembling them into glyphs to unleash his techniques.
The Black Tortoise raised its head, summoning black waves to block the arrow—mystical and mighty. Yet, this arrow was the golden youth’s wrathful strike, a devastating Engravement Realm technique. It shattered the dark ocean effortlessly.
Shi Hao’s expression shifted. With a sweep of his hands, the tortoise transformed into a shield covered in glyphs, revealing an ancient symbol—the Black Tortoise Divine Ability.
“Clang!” The golden arrow struck the shield, resonating with a deafening hum. It eroded all resistance, dimming the tortoise’s shell before finally—
“Crack!”
The shield shattered, and the arrow shot straight toward Shi Hao, its divine might undiminished.
Shi Hao’s eyes gleamed with divine essence, his pupils like two miniature cauldrons. He did not resort to other techniques—his body boiled with radiant light, every inch of him seemingly composed of cauldrons.
At this moment, his form blurred as he executed the most primal and unadorned of techniques. His hands moved in harmony with the heavens, resonating with the world itself.
This was not recorded in the Primordial True Solution, nor was it a technique from battle memories—it was something Shi Hao had naturally evolved, unintentionally aligning with the Primordial True Solution’s profundities.
“Slap! Slap! Slap!”
His palms struck like tolling cauldrons, each impact shaking the golden arrow until its light dimmed—and then it exploded!
A golden tempest raged across the sky.
“What?!” The golden-haired youth was stunned. This time, he had held nothing back—yet his most furious strike had still failed.
“Swish!” Shi Hao lunged forward, his body wreathed in glyphs, closing the distance in an instant. He would not allow another arrow to be drawn.
The golden youth’s eyes flashed coldly. He knew he was in trouble, but he was not afraid. With a flap of his wings, he summoned a storm of lightning and dodged aside.
Shi Hao roared, his divine essence shifting once more—this time into countless spears. His aura turned razor-sharp, as if he himself had become a golden war spear, his presence piercing the soul.
“Die!” The golden youth sneered cruelly, unleashing a palm strike formed from glyphs—a golden cloud descending to crush Shi Hao beneath absolute Engravement Realm might.
“Shing!”
Golden spears erupted from Shi Hao’s body, each one stabbing forward with unstoppable force.
“Pop!”
He pierced through the colossal palm, scattering its glyphs, and charged toward his foe.
The golden youth flapped his Wind-Thunder Wings, cold mockery in his eyes as eight massive thunder orbs materialized, ready to detonate.
The onlookers paled—this was the pinnacle of thunder magic. A single orb could obliterate a mountain peak, and now eight were unleashed to annihilate Shi Hao.
Yet—
“Hmm?” The golden youth’s eyes widened.
Shi Hao’s aura shifted again—golden wings with black markings sprouted from his back. With impossible speed, he arced around the thunder orbs, closing in.
“Annihilate!” the golden youth roared.
The eight orbs detonated, upheaving the earth, evaporating even the lava lake below. But Shi Hao had already dodged—using his Kun Peng Wings to appear behind his enemy.
His palm descended like a blade!
“Swish!” The golden youth spun, his face dark. “I forgot to mention—my Wind-Thunder Feather Clan’s flesh is peerless. I was waiting for you.”
Even as he spoke, he had already lunged, certain his opponent could not escape.
This was his trump card. Most assumed his bow and spells meant his body was weak—but in truth, his flesh surpassed even divine artifacts.
“Bang!”
Shi Hao said nothing—only struck.
The golden youth’s instincts screamed danger. He barely dodged, the gale-force wind grazing his face like a blade.
“Die!” Shi Hao pressed the advantage, his relentless assault forcing the golden youth to block with his right fist.
“Crunch!”
Bone shattered. The golden youth’s face twisted in agony—his fist had split open.
How? His opponent was still in the Transformation Realm! Yet in his own domain of physical supremacy, he had been wounded.
The golden youth retreated, but Shi Hao pursued like a shadow. Their clashes were brutal, each strike infused with hidden techniques—golden crows manifesting in the youth’s palms, Kun Peng wings fluttering in Shi Hao’s fingers.
“Rip!”
In a decisive move, Shi Hao tore off the golden youth’s right arm. A scream of agony echoed—this was a crippling blow.
The battle was decided. Though the youth’s retainers fired arrows in desperation, it was too late.
A dozen exchanges later, Shi Hao’s leg swept out—
“Bang!”
The golden youth’s body split apart, his life extinguished.
Shi Hao seized the bow, firing golden arrows in rapid succession. None of the retainers escaped.
“What a terrifying bow,” Shi Hao murmured.
The crowd was stunned. That had been a renowned prodigy from beyond their realm—slain so decisively by this unknown youth!
“Huh? The Wind-Thunder Feather Clan’s aura vanished—killed? Since when did the Fire Nation have such a monster?”
Two figures approached—humanoid, yet not human. One had a row of bone spikes jutting from his back, the other possessed four eyes, both exuding sinister auras.
“Hand over the Wind-Thunder Bow, and you may leave. We’ll pretend we saw nothing,” one said, covetous eyes fixed on the weapon.
“Swish!”
Shi Hao moved—his speed transcendent. He engaged the two Engravement Realm experts with the might of one who had surpassed the Transformation Realm’s limits.
“You dare?!” one bellowed.
The battle was fierce. These were geniuses, after all. A hundred exchanges later, one lay dead. The other fled, only for an arrow to pierce his shoulder, nearly obliterating half his body. Shi Hao closed in—
“Thud.”
A head rolled.
Silence.
Who was this? How had he defeated even foreign prodigies with such ease?
The crowd erupted—but elsewhere, another event of monumental significance was unfolding.
At the ruins of the Sky-Suppressing Sect, space itself trembled, fissures spreading as a pale hand emerged, straining to pry open a passage.
A figure was stepping out from the Ancient Sacred Academy.
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