Everyone was struck dumb, unable to speak. This was too astounding. “Ahhh…!” Jiao Peng’s arm gently trembled, as if he had collided with the fierce beast Ha, as if every bone was now broken. Never, in all his imaginings or experience, had he ever believed that this boy- whose chin still bore remnants of milky residue – could very nearly swing him down into the dirt. All watched in astonishment: Is this really just another ordinary village hidden in the wilderness? It might very nearly confirm what legends whisper: an ancestral reclusive household, left untouched from antiquity! Many felt fear creep in: if these rumors held weight, the implications were staggering. These isolated clans reside far removed in the deep, remote mountain wilds – and though their numbers are small, every individual counts as a terrifying power.
The pair of fairy-like girls approached, eyes agleam, smiling as their elegant and smooth foreheads glowed with signs of innate intelligence. One of them inquired cheerily, “Dear Little One, how old are you?”
“I’m nearly 4 now,” the adorable toddler responded earnestly in clear speech, wiping away the milky trace upon his lips as he replied—in a vain attempt to conceal it.
What?! So, truly a baby barely past three, and not even four yet? Such an unbelievable phenomenon unsettled all spectators, leaving the crowd collectively speechless and gasping.
Jiao Peng’s gaze flashed with a bestial light; a maleficence thick upon his countenance – if he could unleash the ultimate ancestral treasure Art here itself to crush the young one into the soil, it would be worth the gamble.
“Come on!” Rather than evoking his clan’s supreme power, he used the natural brute force of his body, roaring through the air and making nearby giant trees tremble and shed their leaves in a frantic cascade. Much like a huge demonic creature bursting from the primordial mountains – a fierce gale rising with this being as he hurled towards little Shi Haoran himself!
“Why on EARTH are you acting in this manner?” A baffled Shi Haoran asked his wide and bright eyes filled with innocence, confronting this onrushing menace with no more than extended arms for resistance.
“BOOM!”
Onlookers could now discern the truth—what they witnessed was no deception through techniques nor spellwork but actual force unleashed in sheer bodily might alone. So mighty was that physical propulsion and so violent, that it created a trembling reverberation through the land itself, forcing Jiao Peng back with such sudden violence it was astonishing!
The genius youth from Lake Lucaofu tumbled backwards repeatedly, each step cracking deep crevasse-fissures in earth beneath, while agonizing tremors raced up and down his wounded and shaking arm, his stifled outcry expressing his pain clearly enough. “In… incredible!” Gritting painfully as he murmured his disbelief—could there ever be such mortification in losing to one not even weaning fully?
“Hahaha!” Thunder Boy, nearing six, delighted openly, convulsing with laughter like his insides were turning in amusement. Except him— none among the others shared laughter on face. If Jie is truly a prodigy among his kind, what label would they apply now for this infant unweaned and yet?
Such potential this kid shows!” one spoke low with awe and realization, whispering, “Perhaps on some Great Battlefield of Species’ Ultimate Showdown he’d prove a contender indeed.”
The gathered kids shiver anew; if one’s destiny already ties itself onto the battlefields of horrors, who then dares claim the future unwritten?
Cough!” the venerable uncle of Elder Zishan Zishou, named Zishan Shou, who had both the gravitas and seniority, coughed politely and with great tenderness approached little Shi Haoran asking cordially:
“Child, tell us kindly how your quaint dwelling bears a name?”
“Stone Village!” The child sang brightly in answer.
“Were it possible to trouble you briefly allow rest amidst your homes? Perhaps partake gently a drink?”
Just then, the man from Lake Luzheng detained Jiaopeng forcibly while many clan experts drew close, wanting to solve this peculiar mystery once and for all.
“Aawww…how CUTE indeed!” The two ethereal girls, by now cuddling and fawning over Shihaoran with maternal instinct. He wiggled in protest saying:
“What exactly are you ladies about?”
Would you show us to your village?” they asked gently enough.
At that very moment, adults from the village appeared emerging out amidst the wooded hill slope towards them.
At length several influential representatives of Clans like Stone Family itself alongside Zishan, Luzheng, and others made their entry into Stone Settlement. Every nook examined, particularly their aged willow tree under great attention.
Yet the black scorched bark revealed no stir – neither did the very tree acknowledge their secret inquiries whispered in thought directed through psychic projection at it.
As their tour continued through village alleys, they grew suspicious indeed: ordinary stone houses constructed over neatly laid bluish-paved strewing pathways seemed altogether unremarkable or peculiar—indistinguishable in features from every mundane rural cluster.
Oh, but those large cauldron-shaped pots seem particularly ancient judging from the intricate carvings of birds and beasts upon them; must’ve witnessed centuries themselves!” remarked Elder Zishan’s wise, elder cousin, whose noble ancestry offered great insight to antiquities.
Others joined now to regard with deep appreciation each ancient cauldron’s natural, yet ancient elegance and aura.
“Seem rather no ordinary cooking pots to me; tell us truly their purpose in daily tasks?” The elderman from Lake Luzheng enquired. Jia Chang’s voice laced with wonder asked that.
“Oh,” answered Ermeng cheerily, while grabbing one of several metallic kiln-cookers weighing close to thousands of catties, easily hoisted above his head in demonstration.
Such acts sparked a palpable thrill among their gathered watchers — while such feats would scarcely merit admiration back home for those raised from noble lineages; they seemed extraordinary in context here amid this hitherto humble village. More so when viewing the gathered youths present—none appearing remotely weak or ordinary. This only fueled speculation once again that perhaps this entire Stone village was one truly ancient recluse clan, veiled by mystery.
Er Meng’s inherent physical strength was such he could practically handle those pots without effort but having further strengthened that prowess tenfold upon imbibing some of those divine lion’s life-blood, thus this was trivial at point indeed.
Yet of course, the watching clan champions assumed otherwise — that all kids present shared that abnormality of physique as natural. They’d long believed that only rare gems like Zishan Kun or Jioapeng existed even among their clans — never in dreams supposes entire communities brimming with such youthful prodigies!
“Good sir, sir” questioned the ever-blundering but innocent lad innocently. “Might that winged jialong of yours belong for cooking meat? Or perhaps for your blood-purifying rituals?
“Ahhh…” His own father slapped him atop the head exasperatingly replying firmly, “Foolish pup! Sayings nothing you understand yet, don’t babblle away without due thought.”
“A domesticated wingdragon of that power isn’t just food nor easily come by. It takes generations raising tamed ones, carefully, so they breed many, ensuring enough sustenance for many a future generation— whether to feast on meat or extract vital blood for power, the cycle sustains prosperity!”
The Luzhao folk felt discomfort in this; thinking they would soon obtain insightful words from such robust and rugged-looking man but only received that primitive babble. Could it be true that all in this village possess some twisted madness otherwise foreign elsewhere?
But this is no swine of the trees or oxen covered in dirt, no common creature, but rather one terrifyingly potent demonic beast of fearsome magnitude — whom among them even contemplate using so lightly for food, risking their blood’s waste?
With sharp gazes fixed and suspicion high, onlookers eyed Er’ meng’s dad thoroughly—was he perhaps hiding some deeper essence through deliberate aura concealment techniques even now?
“This batch of vases are heavily immersed in terrifying killing energies; just recently stained with ancient species’ blood not much past its spillage,” observed Thunder’s Marquel Heir’s fourth son, known as Leyunkun, a young man of muscular frame and majestic composure. His eyes gliding across each of the giant cauldrons revealed his astonishingly sharp insight. The rest followed, eyes closed, deeply meditating, but as perception sharpened, all snapped open once more, astonished anew.
“A monstrous King-level beast has died in this village!”
“Could you have cooked down even an ancient species?”
Earlier humiliated boy Jiaopeng couldn’t suppress an excited accusation in hope others may confirm it.
“You folks truly rattled, huh?”
Young Snotty intervened, angered slightly on his own innocent childish impulse:
“Hunting for monsters—what exactly type?” Zihshan Kun interdicted curiously. “Tell us the exact variety.”
“An immortal winged cub-beast (Suanni), one ferociously mighty!”
At once younger Snotty faced reprimand: “Boy foolish! Foolish words!”
But of coarse, too late, it flew forth into general knowledge. Only did little Snotty remember later what clan leaders had warned—speak openly not on the subjects of ancient relics unless wishing chaos to visit their home.
“Oh drat! Forgot…” the boy whined in whispering dismay, “Grandchief commanded silence to avoid overexciting outsiders with unnecessary details”.
However, amidst gathered martial masters and clan champions, this very denial and the boy’s casual mention only reinforced this as an ancient hidden bloodline household too fearsome, too cautious — as though even eating such mighty mythical life forms casually were second nature for their culture.
“What… You’re sure that’s real?”
Staring wide-eyed and awed as never having heard the like previously, Jiaopeng momentarily forgetting his arrogant self reverted entirely into curious toddler once again:
Because among great ancestral clans, rare as mythical Suanni are considered; they treated like sacred substances. Practically every scrap—bone fragments or sinew strands—are distilled meticulously, not recklessly discarded for meals, unlike what described casually in such blunt words.
The assembled elites lost for adequate words now: what boundless treasures lay here within these ancient walls—enables such audacity? To feast on the very divine carcass of sacred creature so openly…
At that very moment no amount of experience or knowledge could explain away the implications. To every single clan chieftain watching or listening closely, it was as though they were viewing from within the shadows of true power’s abode—an unspeakably formidable Hidden Family, whose presence could not be trifled with, nor overlooked without serious peril.
“We desire a meeting,” spoke Zishanshou with imperial grace and regal composure, a resplendent purple robe swirling around golden hair-piece atop his flowing aura – carefully modulated yet radiating unshakeable presence.
“Seeking to greet your Village Elder himself?”
“That chief has secluded himself in retreat, won’t resume presence for considerable length of time,” answered Er Meng again, his sincerity undoubted, truthfulness unquestionable.
“Fool! Too many words today!” With large fan-of-hand, once more father smacked the poor boy.
“But why shouldn’t?” The kid frowned—why scold when I simply relayed facts untaught yet not hidden from the masses?
Indeed, ever since he imbibed Suanni Blood, elder had secluded himself meditating within stone altar for better purification from past dormant ailments.
Glances were shared between Zishanshou, Jiao Chang, and their allies; expressions subtly changed – understanding the deeper meaning implied within the younger boy’s answer: surely such an elder with such incredible might must necessarily enter profound isolation for great periods, a common necessity of sages possessing extraordinary power.
In ending all their sights fixed again, now upon the ancient Willow. Could an abode so veiled in strangeness and secrets be home also to a mysterious, transcendent tree? Perhaps…
“Pray… what role fulfills this plant amidst your homes?” respectfully posed Thunder’s young heir.
“Ah,” said Pi’ huo, “We simply refer usually ‘Guardian Spirit’, sometimes call ‘Willow Sage.'”
To all warriors and masters, those few child words now spoke truer than any scripture.
WHOA, the WILLOW sage?!
Gasps rose instantly; the group nearly flew back from their spots in shock — so startled indeed even venerables as Zishandou nearly took an involuntary hop.
Mystery and might, a cryptic village housing an awe-inspiring guardian spirit – one which bore such formidable title and myth—left one utterly and completely dumfounded.
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