Chapter 79: Fierce Marauders

There is a legend upon this land—that once, a peerless supreme being left behind his legacy here, buried within an ancient cave abode, inscribed with his teachings. Countless seekers throughout the ages have come searching, yet none have succeeded. Until one day, thunder descended from the Nine Heavens, shattering a mountain range and revealing a corner of that cave abode.

*”We were fortunate, yet also unfortunate.”*

The words of Shi Yun Feng, the village chief, carried both sorrow and the weight of time. His old comrades had all perished, leaving him alone with endless pain in his heart.

*”We joined a sect together, cultivating bone scriptures. For a youth from a humble village, my talent was decent—I reached the Cave Heaven Realm. When the heavenly thunder struck, I happened to be on a trial with my brothers, and we saw that cave abode.”*

But disaster followed. They unearthed many bone scriptures, yet could not breach the true gate of the cave abode, unable to enter its core. News leaked, and they faced relentless pursuit. Forces from all sides moved to seize those scriptures.

*”They didn’t know—those scriptures, though precious, were not the true legacy of the cave abode. Hunted endlessly, we fled deep into the Great Wasteland, with no escape above or below.”*

Shi Yun Feng’s voice was bleak. One by one, his brothers fell. After untold suffering, only he and one other escaped. Later, when they returned to seek the ruins, they found it as if *”the stars had shifted”—*as though ten thousand years had passed, leaving nothing behind.

*”It must have been the bone scriptures’ mystical power, sinking that divine trove into the earth, drifting to an unknown place.”*

Yet even then, the pursuit never ceased. A band of ruthless marauders appeared, terrifyingly strong, with a sacrificial spirit in their ranks, forcing them into a long, desperate flight.

*”Later… many things happened. Only after years did we escape, returning to Stone Village, wounded.”*

In the end, only Shi Yun Feng survived. The other man died soon after returning. The chief did not elaborate on the past, but it was clear—there were hidden truths, many stories. To evade such relentless hunters for years, he was no ordinary man.

A pity, then, that Shi Yun Feng—once a prodigy—had his cultivation shattered, his body left in worsening condition.

*”We were struck by a strange mist before that cave abode, our bodies wounded. Then came the pursuit, worsening the injury. For years, I couldn’t freely wield the bone scriptures’ power.”*

He spoke simply, but one could imagine the dangers he had faced—dangers he now dismissed in a few words.

*”The strongest faction back then commanded dozens of marauder bands, all searching for that supreme treasure. I feel they’ve returned… never having given up.”*

The villagers were stunned. This was the first time their chief had spoken of the past, however briefly. The tension of those days, the deadly calamity—it was palpable.

*”I believe that supreme treasure still lies in this region. Even if it sank and drifted, it couldn’t have gone far.”*

The land for a hundred thousand miles had once been bathed in blood by four great beings. Now, it was barren, lifeless—a near-impossible place to search.

Yet the marauders had returned. It meant they might have found something.

*”Prepare for the worst!”* Shi Yun Feng commanded. With the Willow God slumbering, they could only rely on themselves.

*”A pity the Azure-Scaled Eagle and her brood—Zi Yun, Da Peng, Xiao Qing—are away training. They’d have been formidable allies,”* Little Rascal lamented.

The situation worsened. Days later, Pi Hou and Hu Zi returned with grim news: another village, six hundred miles away, had been slaughtered.

*”We found one survivor… but he only lasted half an hour.”*

*”He said they only demanded primal bone treasures and rare metals—nothing about the land or mountains,”* the children reported.

The chief frowned. *”Was I wrong? Are these not the same marauders? Yet those men also sought Black Gold.”*

Half a month later, dust rose on the horizon. A band of riders on fierce beasts charged toward Stone Village.

*”To arms!”*

The villagers tensed. Shi Lin Hu, Shi Fei Jiao, and others nocked their dragon-horn bows, standing firm at the village entrance, ready to defend to the death.

The marauders exuded killing intent, their eyes cruel. At their head, a scar-faced man sneered:

*”You country bumpkins dare resist? A single charge will bury you all.”*

They numbered only a hundred, but each was battle-hardened—especially their leaders, who wielded powerful bone scripture techniques.

Then—**BOOM!**

The earth trembled. A colossal figure emerged—a golden pangolin, dozens of meters long, its eyes like lanterns, radiating slaughterous aura.

A **Sacrificial Spirit.**

Hopelessness gripped the villagers. This was no ordinary guardian—it moved freely, its scales tinged with bloodlight, a devourer of other spirits.

*”Feel your weakness now? Ants daring to challenge a True Hou!”* a marauder mocked.

*”Drop your pitiful bows. Obey, and you live.”*

*”What do you want?”* an elder quavered.

*”Silence, old fool!”* A whip lashed out, flinging the elder back in a spray of blood.

*”Third Elder!”* The villagers surged forward, eyes burning.

*”Halt!”* The chief restrained them.

*”He’ll live. A lesson only,”* the marauder laughed. *”We’re not unreasonable. Meet our demands, and you’ll be spared.”*

*”You have twenty days. Deliver five hundred pounds of Black Gold. Fail, and we slaughter every last one of you.”*

The golden pangolin roared, shaking the mountains, its golden mist swirling ominously.

The villagers stood frozen, hearts heavy. The gap was insurmountable.

*”Remember—twenty days. Or extinction.”*

With a final crack of the whip, blood streaked Shi Lin Hu and Shi Fei Jiao’s faces. The marauders departed, laughter ringing.

*”Chief, why stop us?!”* Shi Lin Hu’s voice was raw.

*”Because we’d die for nothing!”* the chief snapped. *”None of us wield high-level bone scriptures. We can’t unleash the Ancestral Artifact’s true power!”*

*”Then what after twenty days?”*

*”By then, I’ll be ready. I’ll take the artifact and fight—to the death.”*

The men paled. *”No! Your wounds—you can’t risk it!”*

*”They’re too strong. But prepared… I might stand a chance.”*

Tears welled in the men’s eyes. They understood—he was shielding them, ready to die alone.

*”Chief Grandpa…”* The children wept.

Then—

*”Let me face them.”*

Little Rascal stepped forward, eyes blazing with resolve.

*”No! Even if you break through to the Cave Heaven Realm, the gap is too vast—especially against that spirit!”* the chief rebuked.

*”I wanted to fight today. But they gave us twenty days. That’s enough. I’ll reach the level needed to stop them.”*

His voice was iron. Unshakable.