“Force me to use my Treasure Spell?” Jiao Peng muttered with a blood-flushed, nearly contorted face. Being constantly suppressed had driven him into an unbearable rage. Proud and untamed by nature, he was hailed as a genius from a prestigious clan, renowned across fifty thousand miles—yet here he stood, humiliated by a mere village boy. This was an insult beyond endurance.
Shi Hao had no more words for him. The only language left was battle.
“Jiao Peng, can you even handle this? Getting thrown around and now throwing a tantrum?” Zi Shan Kun strode forward, his mocking tone laced with a cold glint in his eyes as he fixed them on Little Rascal. The destruction of his treasured bow still gnawed at him, and he was ready to strike at any moment.
“You think you can take on all three of us? Such arrogance!” Lei Mingyuan smirked from the side, his voice icy. “A strong body means nothing in this world. Treasure Spells reign supreme. Without divine techniques, how far can mere flesh take you?”
Little Rascal remained silent, observing them before shifting his gaze to the gathered experts. Addressing the elder from Cloud Sky Palace, he said, “Grandfather, please witness and judge. Let’s see who truly stands above.”
The crowd murmured in surprise—this little one was sharp. Recognizing the hostility among the experts, he sought sanctuary with the only elder who showed him kindness, the one holding a snow-white feather.
“Hum!” This time, it was Little Rascal who struck first, lunging straight at Zi Shan Kun, his palm radiating an ethereal glow, like divine jade.
“Perfect! Let me test your raw strength!” Zi Shan Kun, ever the proud genius, sidestepped to evade the brunt of Shi Hao’s strike. Waiting for the moment his opponent’s momentum waned, he countered with a fierce palm strike of his own.
But Little Rascal fought without set patterns. Raised in the wilderness, his movements were primal—simple, direct, and deadly. As his attack faltered, he suddenly crouched, his right leg snapping up like a scorpion’s tail—swift and vicious!
Zi Shan Kun barely dodged, the kick grazing his chest. Had it landed, his skull would have shattered. Their palms clashed—
**Boom!** The impact resembled a charging rhinoceros smashing into stone. Dust and debris erupted as Zi Shan Kun was sent flying, his hand throbbing as if fractured. If not for the luminous bone ring on his thumb dispersing the force, his hand would’ve been crushed.
Meanwhile, Little Rascal was already in motion, darting toward Lei Mingyuan. A single punch—brutal and unadorned—sent him flying despite his desperate guard.
“Wow, even a porcelain doll can be this fierce when angry,” whispered the twin sisters watching the battle, their identical faces alight with awe.
Lei Mingyuan, seeing his peers tossed aside, refused to engage physically. Dark lightning crackled around him as a rune materialized in his palm, unleashing a torrent of black lightning at Shi Hao.
Unfazed, Little Rascal’s right arm shimmered with radiant sigils, dissolving the incoming attack. With a sweeping kick, he launched a massive grindstone at Lei Mingyuan. Though shattered midair, the distraction allowed Shi Hao to close the gap—his descending kick sent Lei Mingyuan reeling, blood spewing from his mouth.
“The runes of Lord Thunder’s force-redirection technique saved him! Otherwise, those arms would’ve snapped!” someone gasped.
Within moments, Little Rascal had overwhelmed three geniuses, leaving their clans fuming. How could a backwater village produce such a prodigy?
Humiliation burned in Jiao Peng, Zi Shan Kun, and Lei Mingyuan alike. Being kicked around was a disgrace they couldn’t stomach.
“Hum!” Jiao Peng struck with his true Treasure Spell. An ancient, luminous character blazed in his palm, manifesting a colossal gray flood dragon—ancient and ferocious—lunging at Shi Hao.
Calmly, Shi Hao traced a crescent moon in the air. Silver radiance cascaded, forming a barrier.
**Boom!** Moon and dragon collided, shaking the earth. The gray beast thrashed, its scales gleaming with primal might, while the moon pulsed with surging energy. Suddenly, a deafening shriek split the air—a monstrous avian shadow erupted from the lunar disk, its wings blotting out the sky.
“A primordial demonic bird! Is it the Heaven-Swallowing Sparrow or the Azure Sky Roc? What terrifying power!” The spectators from Golden Wolf Tribe and Luo Fu Great Marsh recoiled.
Though incomplete, the sheer aura of this technique hinted at its devastating potential—a treasure even great clans would covet.
Realization struck: this power stemmed from the three mutated Azure-Scaled Eagles.
“An ancestral reawakening! Fragments of a supreme primordial mark have resurfaced!” someone exclaimed.
The demonic bird—whether sparrow or roc—plunged, its talons seizing the flood dragon. With a brutal wrench, the beast shattered into dissipating light.
Since his baptism, Little Rascal’s mastery of this technique had deepened, now overwhelming Jiao Peng effortlessly.
Seizing the moment, Zi Shan Kun and Lei Mingyuan attacked anew.
**Whoosh!** The demonic bird’s wings spread, stirring cyclones as it dive-bombed Zi Shan Kun.
Zi Shan Kun roared, his body erupting in violet flames. A purple sun materialized, birthing a flaming kirin that charged skyward.
**Boom!** The collision lit the battlefield in blinding radiance. The kirin shrieked, fleeing—only for the bird’s talons to impale its skull. The kirin exploded into pure energy.
Zi Shan Kun recoiled, hastily weaving defenses.
Meanwhile, the demonic bird surged toward Lei Mingyuan as Shi Hao himself blurred into motion, closing on the staggered Jiao Peng. A silver moon hung above, raining down countless beams.
“Ah!” Jiao Pan screamed, panic contorting his face. The moonbeams pierced his protections, and Shi Hao’s kick sent him tumbling, blood gushing from his nose and mouth.
Landing lightly, Shi Hao snatched a several-hundred-pound millstone and swung—
**Whack!**
“Aaagh—!” Jiao Peng’s wails echoed as the stone mashed his face, shattering teeth. Blood and broken molars sprayed from his lips, his cries raw with agony.
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