The vast Cang Mang Mountains were no longer at peace; mighty beings appeared like emerging from concealment. Some sought the guardian spirit of Shi Clan’s village, others craved after the treasures hidden in the wild expanse. In throngs they flocked, the lone hill-town overflowed like high tide. Clan patriarchs, although present, refrained from rash action, for the tree felt inexplicably arcane—an intangible depth stirred in their hearts as though the roots extended beyond time into the abyss of infinity.
Throughout the last few days, countless powerhouses advanced deep into these perilous highlands, hoping to decipher the identity of this sacred relic that even lured battle between ancient remnants—conflicts spanning two harrowing years, without victor or retreat.
A band of elite warriors, hailing from several different tribes, had formed an exceptionally formidable coalition. Now, they tore through the outer perimeter, slaying fierce creatures with relentless momentum while advancing into deeper regions.
“Can you believe what exactly lies hidden as treasure in this valley?” One among them asked as they marched further. “Two full years passed, and still no hands claim the prize. It might actually be no inert relic, perhaps something living?”
“Aye.” another contemplated aloud. “Could easily be a holy herb, capable even of levitation.”
Their voices murmured, but never lost their vigilance—each soul held secret aspirations, not for the relic itself alone. To find even an uncommon medicinal herb in exchange for so daunting a passage could already bring reward worthy of praise.
Of course—there lingered greater dreams.
If they chanced upon corpses of these warring primal entities, relics lost among time’s folds, then the very essence of their journey would change. No prize was beyond imagination—for within even a carcass from an ancient lineage resided inestimable wealth.
But then… from within the wilderness, deep beneath emerald woods, came a terrible sound.
“O-o-o-a-a—!”—like mountains breaking open in anguish it bellowed, rocking hills and precipitating boulder upon boulder from the peaks, uprooting countless ancient oaks, as if a mountain flood had torn free—devastating lands as thundering chaos.
“We’ve barely entered the woods,” one man exclaimed in alarm “and already, what beast has let out such a roar to rend heaven?” Others paled beside him as storm-winds raged from deep within the forest.
A vile scent, thickly oppressive like rot incarnadine with decay burst toward them with the might of a typhoon’s gust, mingling foulness with a presence so malevolently dire, the world grew cold in its wake.
“Rogue Beast! Defensive Stances!” someone roared at the forefront.
From out of the trees galloped what appeared to be an enormous golden-furred bear-like beast—ten meters tall, upright, legs pounding through soil. A horn the length of spears erupted from atop its eyes.
“Ffft!”
Though of vast frame, the creature bounded as if it soared on winds of void, swift like lightning. Before most could blink, one among the group collapsed under the weight the paw’s strike. Reduced instantly to paste like crushed fruit—blood, bone, and viscera exploded in an instant. Life snuffed out before it even knew terror.
A warrior reacted—invoking treasures mid-scream—glyphs ignited to life like fire raining in arcs toward the beast.
“Fwoosh—!”
Yet the beast bore neither aggression nor desire for fight and instead soared overhead—a mighty bound launched it skyward, at least thirty meters above their heads, instantly vanishing beyond their view as if fleeing something far more fearsome still.
“It’s worse than we thought!” Someone shrieked, terror mounting at realization beyond reckoning. “A Beast Maelstrom! Flee for your lives!”
Indeed, as if validating the cry—a thundering horde stampeded in from afar, surging like a river unleashed from flood plains.
A tidal surge of primal beings—hordes black upon black, mass unmeasured, trampling every shrub and vine as ground quivered underfoot, forest canopy crumbled like eggshells. Even elder woods snapped like twigs beneath thundering hoofs.
The adventurers were frozen—not of steel or magic but flesh. Even mightiest Clans risked peril in such a maelstrom. Death stood nigh.
“Oaagh—!”
From further within Cang Mang’s embrace resounded another cry—rocks burst mid-air like exploding stars as mountains quivered from the aftershocks.
And upon high floated something truly ancient in darkness beyond light.
Demon Ape—an ancient blood line from the most brutal epochs of myth now emerged from shadow. Entire body swathed like abyss-fire—a massive pair of devil-like bat wings spread like shadowing wings eclipsing the light of heaven while standing amid the heavens itself.
But what chilled blood ran cold within veins was the sight—it bore but one arm! Crimson fury lit its gaze—a tyrant, broken yet burning with might and rage.
This wizened death was already aware of intruders now upon its hunting path.
Before men could comprehend their doom—they fell.
In but a blink—the leader’s legs stalled in mid-stance—the last moment in mortal memory before his skull exploded. Blood geysered in a crimson pillar—helmet shattered, scattered.
From nowhere—beastly jaws devoured his thoughts, slurping the mind directly from inside his head.
Without hesitation—it spun—moved again—another already doomed in mortal eyes.
With mere fingers it crushed.
“Fhap!”
A single flick—brain spilled like water as blackness surged. Blood spatters, teeth flew—red licked lips and laughter echoed behind.
Before death could be acknowledged, terror had already reigned absolute.
“Scream!” Men yelled from souls paralyzed—none anticipated death at entry gate alone—residing so near yet so impossibly far from safety.
Their struggle futile—Demon Ape flickered among trees, vanishing then appearing across distances like shadows in wind—leaving trails like phantasm of death—each strike bringing fresh death. No blade or charm resisted it.
All—none escaped death.
The only way these warriors would part from this place—was death itself.
Had those from Stone Village bore witness—they would’ve known immediately the beast’s mark: it was none other than he who once challenged the Holy Lion in a battle now whispered through winds. But now—his terror greater far!
The exodus of raging beasts destroyed entire groves in wake of their departure—a wave unleashed—crashing upon the mountain’s periphery like tsunami breaching walls once sacred.
The event shocked neighboring towns, stirred hearts of wandering elites who’d traversed countless miles. Their assumption: a calamity brewed within the highlands beyond ordinary reason.
Above them—the very heavens themselves blackened.
Countless malevolently winged fiends poured from their forest refuges like scattered crows. They screamed—beating wings until sky itself trembled—each beast knew something mortal minds dared only guess—the hour of reckoning neared…
From atop an overlooking cliff, the Golden-Wolf Clan Chieftain stood—brow furrowed at the sight. Beside him—their Holy Canine—golden pelts shimmering in light, head raised—tracking far lands.
“Such a horde never anticipated…” He mused aloud as chaos loomed. “In wild, arid lands such as this—an anomaly we could never foresee…”
The howls grew silent. Only his breath remained amid the storm.
“Aye…” He murmured—then widened in surprise, “Wait—an ancient bloodline beast leads this beast migration?! Such raw might… Could it be bound under someone’s command?” He shuddered realizing. The thought struck awe within the heart. For a being capable of enslaving a Primord’s spawn—it must dwell at terrifying tier of divinity itself.
Dawning revelation: The mountain stirred from divine slumber—the era-shaking item was to awaken!
Far distant yet—powerhouses Lord Lei, Liao Fu himself—began sensing the tectonic ripples, though their expressions remained grim—aware, too late—that the destined treasure was not for hands as mortal might ever grasp.
After near two whole periods passed—the maelstrom ceased. Thousands fled and dissipated into far wildwood, scattering into all corners of earth. But all they witnessed was merely the first—initial tide… a minor ripple within greater tempest. More yet would arrive—a new deluge… greater beasts, fiercer spirits… the Earth would never know serenity again after.
The wandering elites had all congregated inside solitary Lone-Hill Settlement—congregation murmuring over matters dire. None dare enter the depths of danger. Mountainous trials stood impervious.
“What a wasted journey! We failed… to realize so much peril would befall in advance. Such terror was that demonic monkey—just another herdsman in charge of driving off creatures before even reaching inner sanctum. Who could fathom true what ancient horror stirs hidden in the forest’s depth?”
“Might it be Holy Medicinal Essence? Could it perhaps be the fabled Divine Bone?!”
No answer returned only sorrow as many warriors of countless Tribes, gathering with great expectation and fanfare, ended instead in nothingness, bitter regret carving souls deep.
“Aye, right, now we speak of something else—was there not word from the great Clans of this land—set upon a certain unknown village, yes?”
“The word is true—some said the tribes suffered defeat there?”
“Aye! Is the son of Golen Wolf’s household here? Or maybe a scout from Liao Fu Waters? Ask—get the tale!”
The Hill Settlement became like war drums beating—new arrivals approaching the numbers of locals. Among them Golden-Wolves, Storm Lords—gathering in multitudes—waiting in anticipation.
“That so-called village is no normal refuge—rumor has spread that it dealt losses against a few mightiest warbands from across this realm. The mightiest warriors of the world fell before this tiny hamlet!”
“You jest surely?! How could that possibly fare true?! The Great Princes—along their allies—Golden Wolves, Liao Fu Waters… not one among them not mighty enough to rule land uncontested?”
A skeptic raised his voice, but all exchanged awed expressions.
“Then came a contemptuous scoff from amidst the Golden Wolf Clan’s representatives as he sauntered slowly, face cold. “Do not be so smug,” he uttered coolly and with ice-like glare toward others nearby. “That village’s name shall be cleansed, wiped away as dust beneath storm winds. No longer will it dare defy fate.”
He possessed the pride to make such declaration, for the Golden Spirit himself was here—the golden god-beast revered in rituals from their house, a guardian over an expanse of some thousands of li! His spirit reigned over all living tomes and sacred totems across these wilds… the guardian whose presence dwarfed those from all rival clans.
A tremor of disbelief passed across all onlookers.
Did Golden Wolves finally declare outright annihilation against Stone hamlet? Who could stand?
“Though the ancient Primordals may contest the Mountain’s hidden treasure—we need fear not a humble peasant nest!”
A scion from Liao Fu Waters added venom to speech, laughter like dagger.
“Days earlier, they brought disgrace on our lineage—our general Cao-Jiao struck with both arms rendered naught—he left maimed and helpless! Worse—he brought death on so many of ours—hundreds felled by this insignificant cluster of homes!”
His eyes burned.
“We were enraged… we swore upon sacred blood—we would make them suffer for what they have wrought. My lord’s shadow reaches here—no village will stand against such will!”
“Aye, we may have no hope in claiming divine bounty—then let such insignificant creatures suffer… let their village be compensation,” voiced the Lord Lei’s emissary smugly. “They have obtained Lion-Dragon’s Holy Carcace—a relic worthy of emperors—but one so undeserving in village hands?”
“Prince of Purple Peak approaches—he is come!”
Voices raised amidst townscape.
As if a purple sun pierced clouds, three meters from earth it flew—a streak of regal radiance—rushing into dense wilderness straight where Shi Village was whispered to be. Though gone in blink, his passing aura shook even mountain bones. Mortal hearts shivered in their ribs, sensing the might of divinity passing through.
Other hidden aristocrats, the reclusive Cloud Clan, kept veiled in mystery—their strength an unknown.
Yet across the 50,000-mile expanse of this vast domain: Zǐ-Shān-Hóu was said to have no superior—rightly called the Mightiest Man of the World.
Now he appeared—did it mean this obscure hamlet’s doom now certain?
“He himself ventures—could he but seek the village’s destruction?”
Excitement ignited within all assembled—trusting each moment of intervention by divine warriors could shake the balance between fate between life and extermination.
“A ruler arrives—only to flatten a den of rebellious peasants!” spoke one from Purple Family’s blood, pride gleaming through expression. “Dare it besmirch the majesty of a royal household!”
“If ever ‘Royal Shadow Marches,’ one entire generation must tremble,” said another, sigh-like. He recalled prior precedent when this single war-machine alone razed entire mighty tribes single-handed.
Then, suddenly—as though a silent summons reached them—the elite cadres of Golden Clan, the Fu Clan, the Storm-Prince’s kin and others all seemed stirred as from a great voice’s command, and turned together.
So too did the warriors among Purple Shan’s forces follow.
And all—yes, from all directions—every army moved forward in synchrony.
Their objective—none other—Stone Village in unison they encircled.
“Mountain prize is not for us now,” murmured one elder, “so they move to erase a defiant hill village. A truly strange fate must dwell in that tiny speck… how?”
“Such combined forces from great Tribes… led directly by Four Sovereign Elders!”
The moment the great warriors and guardians assembled—the crowd buzzed, their hearts ablaze with exhilaration.
War approached: On this battlefield, the continent’s foremost Sovereign Lord… and its sacred treasure, Golden Deity—beside the greatest Lords of land, sea, sky and flame.
None doubted—there will follow a battle worthy of history itself.
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