The boy is too despicable! How could he be this way? The members of the Rain Clan were cursing furiously. Truly, he lives up to the title as that peculiar brat hailing from the Void Divine Realm—merely making initial contact revealed exactly how outstanding he really is. Yu Zi Mo was thrown into inner disorder, his body brimming chaotically with Glyphs. Meanwhile, Little Rascal attacked without restraint, unrelenting strikes in golden thunderclaps surging repeatedly forth like ocean waves.
“BOOM!”
The ancient, speckled scroll broke. From it plummeted a snowy and lithe young beauty, causing Yu Zhou’s daughter, a prodigmatic daughter of the Rain Clan, great alarm. Seizing his moment, little Rascal launched a furious assault amid the blinding lightning storms, surrounding the battleground with intense brilliance.
”Assault forward!”
“Join together and slay him!”
Atop lake shores, the prodigies cried aloud, entire bodies radiating Glyphs. In unison they charged forth, to bar the path of little Rascal and prevent any passive watching of Rain Yi Mo’s potential fall.
“Zoooommm!”
How immeasurable the speed of little Rasp! Having breached Rain Clan’s female genius, he advanced relentlessly. In one step, his powerful fist thrust forth in thunderstorm’s force, shattering the last enchantment etched into her being with a resonant burst.
“Phwugh”
A stream oozed out from Rain Yi Mo’s blood-speckles, dripping on her dazzlingly white breast and clear complexion, marking sharply where her irises wove unusual threads into a glowing network over her visage—a web cast toward little rascal as her most desperate strike, her final soul-touched sorcerer’s act. She knew otherwise she accepted futility.
Undisturbed by the electric shroud that engulfed her strike, Little Rascal’s fist glowed, breaking boldly inward like unstoppable destiny, undeniably delivering its terrifying might—though lightning had dimmed, this godly force persisted.
“To seal!”
In radiant voice, Rain Yi Mo roared sacred sounds in resistance. Pale arms crossed, white arms dazzling, exuding crystallize shine to block against the punch’s overwhelming fury right before her form.
“Krrshck!
The moment hands connected; her bones had splintered. A surge of raw energy rippled into her body, shaking her violently and spurting fresh glistening blood from mouth corners, her ears filled with dull roaring; her skeletal structure nearly blew apart altogether.
A divine power impossible resisted. Were it not for the timely transfer of destructive surge into arms and bones—what remained could have been a mangled ruin, unable to oppose in kind.
Speaking solely of corporeal strength—Little Rasped could combat newborn pure-blooded ancient demonic beasts. A simple collision between prodigial human woman and him was naturally dominated, even with equal gifts: bodily frame would not rival him strength upon strength.
Rain Zi Mo was hurled sideways, mouth expelling blood. In those deep and vivacious eyes grew sudden alarm: the brutal force seen just now had last occurred in someone seen earlier—Shi Yi a few years back. Yet she had never considered someone as juvenile as the child before her could wield such power again.
“Sis, wasps-waisted beauty, where d’yer dash?”
Taunted little rascally Little Rascal, eyes blazed defiant light bursting into motion again, flaring golden bone-clippers summoned alongside a golden lion mirror. The finishing blow had drawn nearer.
Yet even amidst collective strikes from rain-drenched genius at lake edges—no effort could slow the unassailable pace forward; fate seemed unalterable before them.
They reeled—haunted and humbled. Hailed themselves the ‘Genes’, pillars poised to rise, bring forth future glory for their bloodline; a combined force of minds like them yet still couldn’t touch this strange youth.
Then…
A terrifying tremor rippled out! An awful energy surged past Little Rascal and the Nine-Headed Lion, Glyphs scattering into blazing sky like erupting volcano, stirring chaos between earth and sky by its grandeur.
“Something is wrong!” The raspy cry slipped from Little Rasp—the energy tremulously palpable, exceeding any challenge he had borne until this time.
Little one rushed forward retracting bone-cut blades urgently against this wave’s threat—he simply couldn’t bear death here, such opposition so dread-inspiring far surpassed their group completely.
“Aaaargh…!”
Howling, Nine-Headed beast rose fur rigid straight up—feeling as though hunted by a primordial monster from ancient times, ready to devour.
With no option left it spat from within—a string made golden trinkets—a necklace—defensively warding that terrifying heavenly might; if not, both it and lad might liquefy.
“My god…” Murmured Little Rasp; whole self quivered hair raised erect all over—suddenly turning: an even more fearful quaver surged another place nearby—it crashed down instantly, endless Glyphs racing straight upon them in violent torrents.
An enormous overwhelming strain—if engaged recklessly, perhaps both dashed beyond repair.
“Blast! Still another?—How many martial titans do we face now?!”
Cried dread filled lion—it utterly paralyzed fearing they had wandered into the jaws of infernal doom.
From directions North, South, East, and West each rose spectral silhouettes—one each! All four blocked their routes with collective assaults surrounding and cutting Little Rascal and golden-maned Lion from all exits in an iron snare.
In united action they summoned mighty ripples from forward outstretched hands, like torrents bursting from four oceans flooding—manifest Glyph-wavelengths crashing over their position threatening annihilation.
“How can one be so dreadfully formidable??” Narrowed Little Rascal eyes with dread feeling calamity approaching closely!
Drawing together both treasures available, boy strained every resource to deflect danger.
Golden Clippers vibrated—like twin intertwined dragons carving out hazy killing rays aimed squarely back towards East-aligned figure.
Pristine mirror’s gleam spitting lightning bold and loud crackling into skies, blasting toward northern adversary.
Nine-Headed Lion snarled too. Facing sure danger he threw up his voice to thunder sky above. Nine fangs shot gleaming golden from maw—assailing the Western person, as radiant chain-bone trinket shot south to suppress that enemy.
Thankfully, both shared combined possession four sacred weapons — all deriving from venerable, ancient breeds now extinct.
Without the primal glyph weapons, perhaps their forms by now already reduced by Glyph power to crimson mush, helpless and torn endlessly.
“Does NOT seem right… How can these formidable young prodigials just gather in fours so unrealistically? It isn’t plausible…”
The Nine-headed one low growl murmured disquiet into tension.
To achieve heights young as they do now—renknown would thunder worldwide for such rarity. To have four arise at once—combined! That reality seems but an illusion or delusion…
“What identities do yours belong too?”
Little rascal demanded fiercely as he shouted questionings.
At lake sides, Yu Clan’s elite rejoiced wildly sensing victory’s turning tides—the hidden mountain’s reinforcements dispatched themselves! The lad might have been invinci—no… not now…
Zooooommmm!”
No words from East—but actions spoke louder! A tremendous palm burst radiant beams as thunderous echo heralded that immense hand transforming into river torrents crashing toward them!
Man’s hair raised on beast-man’s skin… this is sheer undiluted Water-force, shaping a divine river from singular palm, certainly a power unknown to average genius children!
Little rasp opened his surprised widened eyes—he spied creased skin clearly on the palm before the magic Glyph changed. That aging could certainly NOT belong on youth of teenage!
Impossible! Banshan held prohibitions forbidding elders entry! “How can you trespass?!” he cried loudly questioning again. Mirror summoned again—released lightning beam defiance.
“Could these be Seal-Binders?”
Exclaimed Roar—golden beast lion now showed anxiety in eyes! Forth they rode not youthful warriors—but revered ancients!
“Sealbinders!”
Exclamation escaped boy startled again.
The Lion answered, stating,
“This is how Banshan’s grandest boon works; during every release some attempt entry via massive cost. Using supreme effort binding their power; their body youthfully reborn; their physical vigor returned. Yet to accomplish requires terrible effort.
Even after such efforts still comes heavy burdens—detection could attract catastrophic consequences. Remember Banshan though termed “a range”; is in truth a Small World realm. Ancients and Heroes cried blood and sacrificed long ago—resultantly this micro cosmos self-defends like organism, actively repulses intruders of overwhelming mightiness.”
In these passing millenia it’s shown rejection power directly tied youth, and strength—yet again, time after time; some still strive to pass even if they’re aged far beyond the bounds searching after grand boons like Sacred Herbs, Divine Remains, or Sage’s Inherited Doctrines etc…
But at terrible prices, too. Discovery within this realm leads unfailingly to annihilation; turning trespassers to ashes in calamities.
History has only seen handful survive—depart safely—many as 90 percent of aging gatecrashers would fail.
Now, rain-family’s desperation demanded four such aged experts—all high clan elders. It’s done risking all—because if they used too-much might here; once sensed four would perish undoubtedly.
The thought struck little rasping youth—flitting images flashed: Fire nation’s crown princess’s cloaked figures, masked visage… suddenly enlightenment came—Likely more hidden Sealbinders, because how else did those individuals locate an egg within an enshrined shrine?
It required might and daring at cost’s extremis… no wonder they managed!
“We fight, they though stronger, are hemmed by limits on total might! Forced restrained to certain maximum thresholds—they cannot release full powers freely.”
Rumbled beast.
“Let Us Crush Together!” Rasp roars again defiantly, launching himself to do just exactly as said—whole being Glyph ablaze, both weapons flaming with divine energies once again. Roark, golden-furred comrade also followed. He lunged from his companion into near erect stature—summoned treasures, risking all; clashing fiercely with quadruple ancient titans together.
The battlefield flared incandescent brightness engulfing everything! Nearby Great Lake roared, waters steaming upwards merging towards elders. Absorbed as power source. Ancient Glyphs flared all the more furiously than before.
Darting mad charge—intent on complete destruction. Rascal lunging east while golden-beast beside him—howling wildly with a tone solemn and grave.
“We rather shatter than live dishonorably!”
Twin forces surged in tandem.
The four mighty figures reacted startled—these pair unleashed ultimate secret techniques reviving ancient treasured artifacts, exhalation chilling blood; demanding they prepare with utmost vigilance.
To the quartets—this two-man, mounted beast was clearly resolved—readying for suicidal assault: All prepared fully, preparing counterstriking.
In the instant two foes unleashed radiance brilliant enough—suddenly they shot upwards, switching direction. Both carried aloft on treasured items soaring into heights faster than thought.
Shi Haoran soared on radiant mirrored craft into high skies above. Seeing nine-headed lion doing the same path behind—
“Little brother, what kind of friend are you that you’d ditch me and make off running!”
“The hell? You’re the one running too!”
Sneering Nine-Head glanced sideways back, none of his past fiery intent reflected in current behavior at his tail’s end. He turned and positioned his rear end facing Shihao:
“Good luck meeting me next… this lifetime will have to do.”
With an iridesless rattle from a string of bones; in blinked flash the beast vanished over horizon like vapor.
Inflamed, the sealed old ones had blocked escape from four earth’s direction; though controlling heaven entirely wasn’t truly achievable. Now with assistance of magical equipment—they escaped upward!
With united decision these four boarded furs of divine beast mounts. Or activated ancient bones for flight: chasing skyward relentlessly thereafter chasing down the pair above.
Shihao scratched puzzled scalp—made little more effort—and ran pursuing his friend’s fleeing form: catching up, gaining slightly until surpassing his mount and running head.
“Eh?”
Nine head stared astonished—before fur again bristled with dread, he gazed sideways back. The old quartet chased wildly behind.
“I’m gonna be eaten alive! You guys ain’t playin’ fair—you’re targetin’ that other guy! Don’t pull me into this, okay?”
He nearly cried out loud.
“My Little buddy; good times and hardships we share: shoulder to shoulder against all gold! Brotherly heart beats together.”
The youth spoke resolute, voice firm beyond doubt.
“I wouldn’t run ahead of you but now you left me exposed to all this wind… acting as your bodyguard meat shield while they hurl death on my tail,” wailed the beast.
Despite inexperience in facing four titans’ pursuit both youth and beast still had the temerity to resist. Now chased without ground beneath escape or sky without enemies—fugitive flight had become their only survival.
Fleeing and fighting—they left a trail soaked crimson.
All had suffered grievous wounds.
”AAAaaaarrrrrrggghh…!”
Roared lion in rage—the right chest riddled bullets from an onslaught of rain. Holes purred blood like sieves, front and back pierced: golden hide stained crimson, drenched through.
He staggered skybound like plummeting fire burning to embers; the very trinket beneath waned dark and failing: near falling.
Flight and combat stretched far too long… holding out even until now, remarkable as it may be…
Shihao similarly hurt. A storm of rain had swept across—crimes of heavenly power crushed him down. Gouts foaming from his mouth as spatter.
But his physical resilience—like divine rank beast newborns: he’d withstood it when another would crumble to meat pile.
Gggrrrooooaaarrr! Roared Nine-headed again—driven into corner, his entire self bathed crimson: golden mane matted wet into dark crimson pastes, plastered against head.
Flight route left crimson smears behind them.
Through fleeing, endless fight—until at last…
“Go now!”
He shouted at his steed. He stood to stall the pursuers: offering last line defense, path clear for friend.
Shocked—dumbfounded: never anticipating such grace even this final stand moment:
“Why won’t you flee?”
The lion finally asked bewildered in confusion over action opposing expectations.
“They came here looking for me—get going!”
Shihao answered resolutively glowing fully with resolve in critical moment.
Complicated emotions rose—his expression subtly shifted, in youth’s unexpected bravery there arose a wholly different face beyond playful or taunting:
“Okay—see yer when I see yer. If yer survives I tell the King uncle not hold grudges. Erase past debts.”
Rumbled the Lion softly.
“Little bro! I’m hurt, honestly. Never thought ye actually held grudges!”
Anger tingled youth’s voice, wounded pride in his reply though.
Maybe with shame, deep within lion’s chest—the fact rasping boy stalled four titans, sacrificing self for life’s chance: made a mark.
“I await your survival.”
He said.
“Alright then. When we both make it—YOU will treat ME to stewed meatballs!”
With boy’s hearty cackle the beast exploded into golden blinding radiance—whipped away instantly; disappearing beyond the edge where land meets horizon.
Shihao spat crimson droplets off his lips, all traces of laughter now gone his form turned arctic.
Facing coldly his fours fearsome opposition he clenched fist and thunderbolts encircled his form ominously.
“Mark my words: this violence may well bring retribution upon you. This Small World certainly will awaken a sense to sense such disturbances!”
“Not to worry. Capturing you is not beyond caution.”
The leader’s voice replied cold-heartedly as lips curled into a cruel smile devoid of any empathy.
“A moment ago,” Spoke an old scholar suddenly; trying to hold back the intensity in chest. “You observed the way his eyebrows flare up when he frowns… doesn’t it remind you someone from long time ago?”
At his words astonish rippled across three other beings—the collective turned gaze to youth again.
No longer disguising forms; now four of them fully unveiled—drawing mist of rain back: revealing truths hidden. Revealed: two bearded men, two old ones, eyes all glowed intensely as glowing lamps.
One middleaged swordsman inhaled sharply:
“Could he truly indeed, that same extraordinary lad from that long-ago past? That one whom everyone talked in awe as the fierce young warrior—Shi Zi Lin?”
In disbelieving disbelief he stared at small youth—the angry countenance, so strikingly similar…
“You all noticed, just how unnatural his corporeal resilience seems? A touch weaker perhaps than Shi Yi’s famed powers from mere years back… simply incredible!”
Said another Elder.
“Aren’t—you truly—The Mischief-child of those yore days?”
Growled one Rain elders’ icy voice: dark mood cloaking his words.
Their tones revealed no shame for past actions—nary one apology given—nor a sense of regret in cutting roots short—to extinguish any future threat that might rise, cruel and unrepentant their present mood stood.
Within little boy raged inferno within heart: yearning vengeance immediately to slay every enemy present—fists raised, flashes of electric light bursting into chaotic cloud engulf surrounding the battlefield around himself like coming storm.
“Why the prolonged silence?”
The four could not perceive the lad’s real face, so knew naught his expression’s details.
Then yet another stepped forward—one bearded middle-aged:
“Yon-days—the day my great-uncle—our Clan’s supreme leader—led our armies from the Imperial City chasing all the way into Western borderlands… There a battle where we fought, my ancestor loosing upon Shi Zi Lin a bone-arrow pierce to both lungs narrowly missing his fatal beating heart.”
He introduced himself to his audience—self proclaimed as Rain Kun. Among Yu Clan was famed and greatly revered warrior of repute.
At this time—he released streams brilliant of sacred rays from two glaring eyes fixating intensely; seeking penetration through that dazzling lightning screen—attempting discerning his young foe’s expression.
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