The mountain stood towering, its ancient trees sparse, with the massive boulder atop its peak being the most striking feature. Divine flames flickered around a seated figure, blurred and indistinct, yet the aura emanating from him suffocated every bird and beast in the mountain range. His pupils were eerily demonic, shimmering with a crimson glow like fire. Though motionless, he exuded an intimidating presence, akin to a demonic deity in deep cultivation.
Soon, several figures arrived, swiftly ascending the peak from the depths of the mountains. Any onlooker would have been stunned by their speed. Each of them radiated overwhelming vitality, surging like an ocean, their power so immense it could suppress even the most gifted prodigies of the land. These were supreme beings of pure blood, possessing unparalleled talents. Yet, upon reaching the summit, they moved with utmost caution, bowing reverently before the boulder.
“How goes the task?” the man seated within the divine flames inquired, his crimson eyes blazing as if they could scorch the heavens and shake the entire region. The youths trembled involuntarily. Even as pure-blooded beings, they couldn’t help but retreat, nearly prostrating themselves again.
One of the youths bowed respectfully and reported, “We have located her. The Lunar Grace Goddess is in the ancestral lands of the Fire Nation, seeking the remnants of the ancient Vermilion Bird’s rebirth.”
“Is that so? I suspect she is destined to fail. Someone must have beaten her to it,” the man on the boulder remarked calmly.
“We have confirmed that the Flower-Guarding Matron accompanies her. That old servant is formidable, at least at the Venerable Realm,” another pure-blooded being added, slightly nervous.
Had anyone witnessed these supremely powerful youths—who could dominate the wilderness and were unmatched among their peers—acting so deferential and fearful before another, they would have been utterly astounded. Each of these youths was a prodigy among pure-blooded beings, hailed as the strongest of their generation in their respective clans. Given time, they would grow into invincible figures, capable of shaping the fate of entire domains with their bloodline power and innate genius.
Yet, here they stood, utterly submissive, not daring the slightest disrespect toward the man before them.
The man on the boulder spoke indifferently, “Just an old woman. There are ways to deal with her.” His voice was calm, devoid of fluctuation, yet it carried a mysterious force that resonated with the heavens, causing the earth to tremble.
“Wouldn’t this provoke the wrath of the Heaven-Mending Sect? It could bring endless trouble,” one youth ventured cautiously.
The others paled, fearing the man’s legendary temper—his will was absolute, his methods ruthless, and none dared defy him.
Yet, the man showed no anger. “This is merely one of the Lunar Grace Goddess’s spiritual avatars. No matter how we treat her, it won’t stir any great upheaval.”
The youths shuddered, well aware of his domineering nature, yet also awed by his unmatched strength and fearlessness. They knew his inclinations—his penchant for pursuing lofty, unattainable women. Two years prior, he had forcibly taken the holy maiden of a great sect, igniting a storm of controversy. Yet, he had emerged unscathed, growing ever stronger through bloodshed.
“My lord, why take such risks for a mere spiritual avatar? The Heaven-Mending Sect may retaliate fiercely for their pride,” one youth pressed cautiously.
“This avatar is different—it is condensed and infused with true spirit, scarcely distinguishable from her true form,” the man replied, his lips curling into a cold, profound smile. His crimson eyes blazed even fiercer, as if they could incinerate the heavens.
“Take it slow. Begin with the avatar, let her true self feel it. I want not just her body, but her heart as well.”
Though his tone was mild, the youths shuddered, not daring to speak further.
“Where is the Gray Flood Dragon? He should have returned by now,” one youth muttered in confusion.
“He is dead,” the man stated coldly.
“What? The Gray Flood Dragon was slain? Did some ancient demon intervene?” they gasped.
The Gray Flood Dragon was no ordinary being—only an elder demon could have bested him. Few among the younger generation could even match him, let alone kill him.
“I sensed his final moment. A youth even younger than him severed his head—truly stronger,” the man said.
“A youth? Which sect’s prodigy could this be?” they murmured, shaken.
Someone so young yet capable of slaying the Gray Flood Dragon must be a monstrous genius from one of the great sects. Such individuals were rare, their identities easily deduced.
“He is a native of the Wilderness Domain,” the man replied coolly.
The youths gasped in disbelief. Could such a figure truly emerge from such a backward land?
“We’ve only just arrived in this domain, focused solely on the Lunar Grace Goddess. It seems we must invest effort in understanding this land,” one youth mused.
“Go and find him. I wish to bring him under my command,” the man ordered.
“Rest assured, my lord, we will capture him!” one declared thunderously, his horns trembling with terrifying energy.
“Do not act recklessly. You may surpass the Gray Flood Dragon, but victory is not assured. I will not tolerate further losses among my followers,” the man warned.
“He is that strong?” they murmured, unsettled.
“Report his whereabouts to me if you find him.”
The youths departed like bolts of wind and thunder, their passage shattering vegetation and shaking mountains. As pure-blooded beings of high cultivation, they could roam the wilderness unhindered.
Soon after, the divine flames atop the boulder extinguished, revealing a figure standing tall. Surprisingly, he appeared no older than seventeen or eighteen, yet his aura was overwhelming, as if he could swallow mountains and rivers whole.
Thousands of miles away, Shi Hao descended from the sky. Blood stained the earth as the headless corpse of the Gray Flood Dragon—dozens of meters long—crashed down, crushing ancient trees and shattering rocks. Even in death, the pure-blooded creature’s body was formidable.
Shi Hao winced at the wasted blood—each drop was a treasure. Thankfully, he had acted swiftly, preventing further loss.
“Kill him!” The remaining creatures roared, three charging forth to avenge the Gray Flood Dragon while four others fled.
Shi Hao drew his bow, the string taut as a full moon. A golden streak shot forth, piercing one escapee through the heart. The force was precise—enough to kill but not destroy the body, leaving behind a massive beast’s corpse.
A second arrow followed, exploding another creature’s skull, revealing a colossal tiger’s remains.
“Fight to the death!” The remaining fugitives turned back, joining the initial trio in a desperate assault.
The outcome was inevitable. Even the mighty Gray Flood Dragon—a peerless pure-blooded being—had fallen to Shi Hao after a hundred and twenty exchanges. These lesser foes stood no chance.
Soon, all were captured. Shi Hao interrogated them, learning of their origins. His heart skipped a beat—their leader, the Gray Flood Dragon, served an even greater “lord,” a being so powerful he could shock even young deities.
“So strong? It seems there are formidable beings beyond this domain. The Lunar Grace Goddess and the Demoness aren’t the only ones. I’m not invincible—there are rivals in this world,” Shi Hao mused, his humility laced with self-praise.
Unfortunately, the captives knew little of this “lord,” too fearful to even speak his name.
Once satisfied, Shi Hao granted them a swift end, his blade reducing them to lifeless beasts and birds.
Such was the cruel law of the wilderness—survival of the fittest, drenched in blood and strife. From an innocent child, Shi Hao had adapted to this harsh reality. To falter was to be left behind.
His spirits were high. A pure-blooded Gray Flood Dragon and a host of noble beasts—this was a grand haul, sure to delight his village.
Eagerly, he yearned to return home, to bask in warmth and respite from the brutal outside world.
Retrieving his spatial pouch, he stored his spoils. Then, reconsidering, he muttered, “Best not ride a beast. The western border is restless—they seek the Supreme Treasure Vault. Flying might invite another arrow.”
Instead, he affixed a yellowed talisman to his body—a Shrinking Earth Charm acquired at the imperial auction.
Instantly, his speed skyrocketed. Combined with his Peng Movement Technique, he became a blur, streaking through mountain ranges like lightning toward the wilderness’s heart.
The effect was staggering. The Peng Technique, renowned as the world’s swiftest, amplified by the talisman’s power, allowed him to traverse vast distances in moments.
His clothes, unable to withstand the friction, burned away—leaving him bare.
In the wilderness, atop an ancient tree, a nine-colored parrot blinked in disbelief.
“Someone’s running naked!” it squawked, shaking the land with its cry.
Shi Hao cursed inwardly. Damned bird!
Indeed, he was naked, but at such speed, only a rare creature like that parrot could spot him. His face burned, but the thick-skinned “Bear Child” pressed on unabashed.
Only upon glimpsing Stone Village—its towering willow tree cascading with emerald tendrils—did he pause to don fresh garments.
“Stone Village, I’m back! Here, under the Willow Deity’s protection, I’ll prepare—my true spirit shall venture into the Void God Realm for battle!”
Fists clenched, Shi Hao’s resolve burned brighter than ever.
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