In his infancy, lifting a divine iron mass weighing ten thousand jin was simply terrifying and nearly an impossible feat. Hence, it came to be revered as the “Ultimate Limit!” During ancient times, divine birds and celestial beasts used this standard to measure offspring and foresee their future achievements. Yet not every youngling possessed such tremendous potential. Now Little Rascal accomplished it. He lifted a massive stone weighing ten thousand jin, his body radiating treasured glow beneath the morning glow, shaking the entire vast wilderness. Fierce birds and ferocious beasts fled in fear, unable to find solace. “Wow! I did it.” With a release from Little Rascal’s hands, the boulder tumbled down the falls amidst a thunderous roar, as though a major earthquake had erupted.
At such a tender age, possessing this sheer physical might placed him absolutely above the world’s standards—an extraordinary feat unachievable for most ordinary beings with fragile flesh and bones. Facing the dawn light on a towering stone surrounded by rapid torrents, swirling and roaring like thunderclaps, even the surrounding chaotic mountains quivered. His body shone with an aura of vitality, radiant and inexhaustible vigor coursing within—shattering the 10,000 jin limit and setting a solid foundation.
“I can now study The Original Truth Manual, though maybe enhancing myself further first would benefit me better,” he murmured; although breaking the Ultimate Limit hadn’t ended his aspirations. He kept pushing forward, aiming for higher levels through relentless self-training, demanding perfection by surpassing himself!
Rain or shine, Little Rascal never missed a single day in his routine. Today marks his seventh spring.
“Boom!” Lightning crackled overhead while torrential rain fell ceaselessly, triggering catastrophic floods throughout the wild lands. Though daylight existed above, ominous darkness covered the earth like night—a blackened landscape where fingers vanished before open eyes could perceive them. Blinding streaks momentarily illuminated the land during lightning flashes, exposing nature’s fury. Within these raging elements charged the tiny figure charging against cascading floods bearing immense boulders and deadly currents—the raw strength of humanity defying heavenly might. This wasn’t merely water crashing among rocks; rather, it heralded genuine mountain torrents surging ahead!
Gigantic waves towered high alongside rolling debris, annihilating endless swaths of primeval woodlands—an irresistible cosmic power! Confronting Nature itself made mankind appear trivial, fragile, almost helpless. Swarms of savage beasts escaped desperately fearing death lurking in flooded wastelands—but Little Rascal showed no fear. Pressing ahead boldly into raging deluges, he endured each pounding blow from the heavens’ onslaught, racing deeper into mountain torrents undeterred by its colossal menace!
Mudslides surged along with ruthless boulders tearing violently through terrain—”Roarrr”—nature’s cataclysmic havoc loomed large yet failed to intimidate the brave lad at all! Often blown backwards by powerful torrents, sometimes slamming violently into canyon walls he only steadied himself anew to continue marching defiantly forthright without faltering. No glyph lights dazzled skyward nor treasures glimmered ominously around him—just raw, disciplined bodily training forging resilience amid stormy trials until translucent luminescence enveloped his skin surface. Silently persevering through natural wrath alone.
Once the tempest waned at dusk skies cleared, revealing broken trees strewn across soaked landscapes now transformed into sprawling marshes. Every part of Little Rascal dripped soaked clothing and visible bruises marked his physique externally but astonishingly lacked fractures let alone blood loss—an unmistakable testament towards formidable bodily strength which saw him through unyieldingly. Thus day after day, harnessing nature’s forces for cultivation purposes extended including perilous cliff-jumps or provoking monstrous beast encounters. Returning battered time after time saw golden liquid potions ingested continuously refining his constitution gradually strengthening it beyond previous limits—astonishing village witnesses who couldn’t grasp how someone could evolve so alarmingly swift.
Upon turning seven-and-a-half years old, he temporarily ceased intense training routines—finally both physical prowess and willpower reached incredible heights akin to tempered steel. Approaching his sacred tree guardian standing solemnly near village entrance, Little Rascal raised his gaze upwards:
“O Willow God, I have concluded my preliminary physique cultivation stage.” As he spoke,
“What kind of results do you think you achieved?” enquired the venerable tree.
He moved toward a nearby lake shore raising effortlessly alone a stone over ten thousand jin single-handedly shaking entire lakesides—kids, adults even mystical creatures present were stunned into silent disbelief. How could human flesh muster such superhuman power hitherto unfathomable? He then repeated with another hand radiating divine brilliance emitted purely from inner essence symbolizing ultimate mastery level achievement leaving even the aged willow speechless for a long moment. “Quick, put it down child lest your frame suffer strain,” worried voices shouted anxiously nearby. That very rock once immovable, serving drying meats/skins, stood now mystifyingly within the tiny grasp of youth’s palm sending shockwaves of awe.
“You demonstrated perfect control lifting eighteen thousand catties with singular arms—a commendable effort beyond my expectations,” transmitted voice resonated from the willow impressed indeed. It added: Even mythical infants as mighty as golden winged eagles or true demons seldom equaled if ever exceeded this accomplishment—an unimaginable achievement given human’s innate frailty contrasting starkly to brute bestial strengths. Yet here this youthful prodigy surpassed norms astoundingly reaffirming his boundless latent potential beyond original estimation.
“How’d You Do That?” Curious kids surrounded him inspecting puny limbs incredulously asking collectively: “That was practically an entire stone hill! Your strength alone must scare those ancient relics hiding deep within mountains—surpassing capabilities exhibited amongst ancestral species offsprings far behind.”
Equally flabbergasted elders gathered whispering amazement at prodigy status already attained—utterly incredible for one barely past baby steps into maturity! One adult joked:
“Little Buddy—we’re modest really—catch us a lion-cub pet when grown enough alright? Maybe guard our courtyard someday!” Another interjected loudly challenging request:
“You call that modest?! Asking straightaway top-tier monster breeds—you surely want more than mere guard dogs…how about purebred treasure beast cub instead?” Third teased back defensively:
“Tch! Treasures aren’t lesser than lions mind—both elite species!” Jests and laughter rippled around as elders bantered merrily urging upon him eventual heroism: Once strong enough don’t forget roots bring real authentic ancient fierce creature infant to defend Stone Village eternally. After lively conversations dispersed…
Looking up again, he questioned softly: “Can I truly begin mastering *The Original True Treatise* Willow God? I’ve grown much lately physically matured somewhat but still remain youthful heart—wide eyed bright gaze fixed intently.” The reply arrived decisive: “You may!” Affirmative consent sounded firm because Little Rascal surpassed prerequisites—his indomitable spirit hardened throughout eighteen grueling months of punishing elemental exposure forging unbreakable resolve.
“But…what exactly constitutes the Original True Treatise?” Inquiring humbly he retrieved smooth glowing bone slates earnestness brimming behind wide eyes thirsting for understanding eagerly absorbing wisdom offered.
“Persevere independently—discover answers methodically step-by-step,” cautioned Willow gently, explaining cautiously further: “This bone text possesses universe-shattering secrets invaluable hence guarded carefully—entrusted sparingly.”
Resolving firmly nodding agreement set new course: thereafter Little Rascal became enthralled studying seated meditating, pacing pondering dreams furrowed brows constantly immersed deciphering cryptic scriptures etched densely across pristine tablets chronicling origins glyph dynamics unveiling profound ancestral truths concerning blessings/curse mechanics among mythological beings.
Tracing cosmological mysteries inclusively catalogued multidimensional phenomena albeit lacking detailed spellwork instruction left gaping omission frustrating seeker yearning concrete techniques. Undeterred however, obsession persisted feverishly engrossed pouring insights risking nosebleeds injuries occasionally despite improvements notable over elder predecessors’. Graphic combat illustrations accompanied theory sessions vivid depicting battles unfolding—like Azure-Feather Hawk dueling deity figures bloodily realistic war scenarios frozen in artistry echoing palpably through eras evoking ancient atmosphere. Not just one illustration existed either—all meticulously inscribed within crystalline tablet space capturing scores of such intricate depictions encapsulating martial application analysis revolving solely rune manipulations void any specific incantation details.
So enraptured remained his soul fixated utterly immersed inside these revelations’ overwhelming depths forever changing trajectory destiny awaited ahead.
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