The White Tiger moved with blinding speed, like a streak of white light darting across the battlefield, stirring up a fierce gale that sent boulders weighing hundreds or even thousands of pounds flying through the swirling dust. It clashed repeatedly with Little Rascal, tiger claws meeting fists in a cacophony of metallic clashes, while glowing runes danced around them. The surrounding massive rocks were lifted into the air, only to be hurled aside by the shockwaves of their collisions.
“Roar!” The White Tiger unleashed a deafening roar, spewing forth a radiant light resembling a vast silver river, its killing intent overwhelming. Little Rascal’s entire body shone as he blocked the attack, but the mountain behind him crumbled and exploded into dust with a thunderous boom.
“Boom!” A massive white paw slammed down, missing Little Rascal but shattering the earth beneath, cleaving open a deep, terrifying chasm. The White Tiger was relentless, its entire body a weapon. Even when turning away, a single flick of its snow-white tail could pulverize a boulder weighing over a hundred thousand pounds.
“This big cat is insane! Such terrifying power!” The onlookers—whether the Crimson Bird, the Fire Crow, or the Nine-Headed Lion—were all stunned by its ferocity.
Little Rascal raised his palms in defense, unleashing a storm of lightning that surged toward the White Tiger. His blood boiled with battle fervor.
“Awooo—!” The White Tiger roared again, spewing forth a wave of silver runes that gleamed like metal, clashing with the lightning in midair. The collision erupted in blinding radiance, accompanied by the sound of clashing metal, as all the lightning was diverted into the earth.
Legend had it that in ancient times, the White Tiger ruled the west, embodying the Metal element and presiding over slaughter—its power was the most ruthless and fearsome. Now, its metallic breath seemed to confirm this, neutralizing the lightning and dispersing the storm.
“Fresh and powerful prey—I like you more and more,” the White Tiger snarled, its eyes icy as it leaped forward again. Its body was peerlessly strong, its cultivation level rivaling that of a Sealed One, making it overwhelmingly dominant. It charged at Little Rascal with the most brutal and unstoppable killing techniques.
“Bang!” Little Rascal punched back, the impact sending shockwaves through both their bodies. Runes surged like meteors, turning the battlefield into a scene of volcanic eruption, the ground trembling violently.
Both the White Tiger and Little Rascal staggered back before unleashing their divine techniques once more, locking in fierce combat.
“Roar—!” The White Tiger bellowed, and behind it, twenty-eight gleaming silver spears materialized, radiating overwhelming killing intent. Each spear was formed from its fangs, towering like pillars of heaven—massive, cold, and terrifying.
“Kill!” The White Tiger roared, lunging forward. The twenty-eight spears instantly turned their points toward Little Rascal, surrounding the beast as they thrust forward in unison.
This assault was horrifying. The White Tiger’s power matched that of a Sealed One, and now it wielded such formidable weapons—who in this ancient realm could withstand it?
Little Rascal’s expression darkened. He summoned the Lion-Dragon Mirror and then unleashed the Dragon-Serpent Scissors, their radiant brilliance clashing fiercely with the spears. At the same time, he was engulfed in lightning, pushing his limits to engage the White Tiger in a life-or-death duel.
“Boom!” Runes blazed, their light like countless comets streaking across the sky, burying the battlefield in divine energy. Shockwaves shattered mountains and split boulders, filling the air with terror.
“Clang! Clang!” The golden bone scissors and Lion-Dragon Mirror clashed repeatedly with the spears, lightning intertwining. The fang weapons of this ancient descendant were indestructible, their killing intent capable of grinding even iron to dust.
Yet Little Rascal stood firm, his body unbroken as he fought back with his own techniques.
“Die!” The White Tiger snarled, its eyes cold. It spat out a beam of white light, intensifying the twenty-eight spears, which pierced through clouds and runes alike, aiming straight for Little Rascal’s body.
The battle reached its climax. Little Rascal felt the pressure—these spears were too powerful, and there were too many of them to handle.
“Thud!” A massive spear struck the ground beside him, its force so immense it pierced the earth before shattering it. Each spear was as thick as a pillar—this wasn’t just a stab, but a crushing blow that would turn flesh into pulp.
“Boom!” All twenty-eight spears descended at once. Little Rascal barely dodged, but the ground beneath him exploded, creating twenty-eight massive craters. The shockwaves sent him flying, and the killing intent seeped into his body, drawing blood from his lips.
This was rare—Little Rascal, who had swept through countless geniuses with ease, was finally wounded. He wiped the blood away, his eyes blazing with even fiercer determination.
Though his opponent was of a higher realm, Little Rascal’s combat prowess was heaven-defying. Unafraid, he sent the golden bone scissors streaking upward, breaking free from his side to attack the White Tiger.
At the same time, the Lion-Dragon Mirror rose, unleashing dozens of thunderbolts that enveloped the White Tiger.
“Hum!” Silver light flashed as the White Tiger’s body was suddenly clad in radiant battle armor, its runes blocking the scissors and mirror.
“White Tiger Battle Armor!” someone gasped. Crafted from the hide of an ancient beast, its defenses were near-impenetrable. No wonder the White Tiger was so confident—it wielded multiple terrifying treasures, making it nearly invincible among its peers.
“Clang!” The Dragon-Serpent Scissors flared, finally breaking through the white light and slicing a gash in the armor. Blood dripped.
“What powerful scissors!” Everyone was shocked. To damage the White Tiger’s armor—this golden bone weapon must have an extraordinary origin. Even the distant golden giant bird watched intently.
“Roar—!” The White Tiger raged, its aura intensifying. The twenty-eight spears below glowed, their killing intent surging toward Little Rascal.
“Not good!” Little Rascal realized the spears weren’t thrusting forward—they remained embedded in the ground, but their runes formed a deadly formation meant to trap and kill him.
A vast white light surged like an ocean, drowning the area instantly. Little Rascal coughed blood as dozens of waves of runes struck him, each carrying profound laws and power.
“Come!” Little Rascal shouted, raising his hand. The Lion-Dragon Mirror descended from the sky into his grasp, and thunder erupted instantly.
Meanwhile, the golden scissors struck again, slicing deeper into the White Tiger’s armor. Blood sprayed—another wound.
“You’ve angered me!” The White Tiger had intended to crush its opponent with sheer power, shattering his will. Yet despite its higher realm, it couldn’t suppress him and was instead grievously wounded.
It could endure no more. With a roar, it spat out a hazy glow, radiant with auspicious energy—a beast-skin pouch, its ultimate treasure, meant to capture Little Rascal’s weapons and seal him inside for execution.
Loosening the golden cord, the pouch’s mouth opened, releasing countless beams of light that enveloped everything below, ready to swallow it all.
“Not good!” Little Rascal paled. He had seen the might of the Cosmic Pouch before. Fearing his golden scissors would be taken, he recalled them in a flash, letting them hover by his side.
Clad in its armor, the White Tiger hovered above a mountain peak, its voice icy. “Do you know how insignificant you are? I could have killed you instantly, but I gave you a chance. Now, I’ll end this waste of time!”
It opened the Cosmic Pouch, unleashing its ultimate attack. A terrifying ripple spread as the pouch’s radiant mouth began devouring everything—boulders flew up, and even Little Rascal struggled to stay grounded.
“Big cat, you’re digging your own grave!” Little Rascal sneered. With a sharp “clang,” he drew the broken sword from his back, pointing it skyward. A single motion sent a devastating sword aura soaring.
“Boom!” The Cosmic Pouch’s radiance was blocked, failing to pull Little Rascal in.
“That rotten sword?” The White Tiger was stunned. It had seen the sword when it was unearthed, rusted and nearly decayed—how could it possess such power?
Little Rascal had hesitated to use it, not wanting to alert the golden giant bird too soon. But with the Cosmic Pouch in play, he had no choice.
“Clang! Clang!” The twenty-eight spears trembled, ready to impale Little Rascal as the Cosmic Pouch flared again. The White Tiger poured its full power into this final strike.
Little Rascal’s eyes turned cold. Swinging the broken sword, he unleashed a tsunami of sword energy. The twenty-eight spears were all severed in an instant.
“Ah! My heart aches!” Amid the crowd’s shock, this pained cry rang out—but it wasn’t from the White Tiger.
Little Rascal clutched his chest in despair. He hadn’t expected the rusted sword to be so devastating—he had hoped to claim the spears for himself!
The White Tiger nearly vomited blood. Those were its treasures, painstakingly collected and rarely used—yet this human brat had the nerve to mourn their loss?!
Little Rascal was genuinely distraught. In his eyes, those spears were already his—only for the sword to ruin them all. What a waste!
And he hadn’t even fully activated the broken sword. The artifacts of ancient sages were truly terrifying!
“The Cosmic Pouch is mine!” Little Rascal muttered, his eyes gleaming as he stared at the ultimate prize. This time, he wouldn’t let it slip away.
Riding the Lion-Dragon Mirror, he shot toward the mountain peak on a bolt of lightning.
“Die!” The White Tiger roared, enraged beyond reason. Its treasures destroyed, this human brat still dared to provoke it? Unforgivable!
“It’s me who’ll kill you!” Little Rascal retorted, slashing with the broken sword—but deliberately avoiding the pouch, aiming straight for the White Tiger.
“You seek death!” The White Tiger’s eyes darkened. To ignore its treasure and attack directly—this was suicide.
Its body erupted with light as it spat out a treasure seal, hurling it downward.
The onlookers gasped. This White Tiger’s background was clearly extraordinary—how else could it possess so many treasures when others struggled to obtain even one?
“Clang!” Little Rascal’s sword cleaved the seal in two, reducing it to a burst of light.
“Ah! My heart! Couldn’t you warn me before using your treasures?!” Little Rascal wailed, genuinely aggrieved. Another potential spoil, gone!
“Guh—!” The White Tiger finally spat blood, its heart and stomach aching from fury. Years of nurturing and refining its treasures—gone in an instant!
The battle’s outcome was decided. Little Rascal dodged the Cosmic Pouch, shattered its radiance, and swung the broken sword diagonally.
“Thud!” The White Tiger shrieked as a hind leg was severed.
“Big Red, catch it! Don’t waste it!” Little Rascal called out. This was legendary White Tiger meat—a supreme tonic!
Carefully controlling the sword, he avoided destroying the beast entirely and struck again.
Despite its resistance, the White Tiger was no match. With a sickening “thud,” it was bisected at the waist, its lower half crashing to the ground in a fountain of blood.
At the same time, Little Rascal seized the Cosmic Pouch. Deprived of the White Tiger’s power, its runes dimmed as he snatched it up.
“Such a fine treasure!” Little Rascal beamed, his eyes curving into crescents as he admired his prize. “With this, I can pack up all the ancient descendants in the Hundred Broken Mountains!”
His eyes sparkled as he wiped away drool.
The Crimson Bird, Nine-Headed Lion, Purple Marten, and Fire Crow, who had been cheering, immediately fell silent at his expression.
“Roar…” The White Tiger, in its final moments, could never have imagined this outcome.
“Hum!” A golden light suddenly blazed across the sky, illuminating the darkened world with divine radiance. An overwhelming pressure descended, making the very mountains tremble.
The golden giant bird had finally moved. Soaring into the heavens, it loomed like a golden deity, its gaze sweeping over all below.
“You—kill him!” It commanded the dozen ancient descendants nearby.
“But… that broken sword…” they stammered, terrified.
“Fear not. If he dares use it, I’ll seize it. Now, slay him!” the golden bird declared coldly, its golden body radiating boundless light, majestic as a divine king surveying mortals.
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