The sacrificial altar, built from massive stones, was vast and erected beside the broken ancient willow. At that moment, it was piled high with ferocious beasts, forming a small mountain. The crimson blood of the beasts stained the stone platform, flowing along the carved patterns, a vivid red. Thick fur, glinting scales, and menacing horns added to the ghastly scene, evoking a primal and brutal aura.
Under the guidance of the venerable elder, the men, women, and children of Stone Village offered their prayers, beseeching the willow’s protection. This was a solemn rite, a tradition performed each time the hunters returned. The scorched black trunk of the tree remained silent, as unresponsive as ever, never partaking of the offerings. Yet, many villagers knew—it had a spirit!
Finally, the ceremony concluded, and with a collective sigh of relief, the villagers’ faces lit up with joy once more. They began hauling the carcasses away for bleeding and butchering.
“It’s been years since the Guardian Spirit has ever touched an offering. Do we really need to keep doing this?” a youth muttered under his breath.
“Foolish boy, watch your tongue!” his father roared, eyes bulging, raising a hand the size of a fan to strike him.
The old chief waved his hand, stopping him, and gently said, “The Guardian Spirit is the sacred entity we worship and sustain. What matters is sincerity. Only through our piety will it protect and bless our village.”
The boy flushed red and stammered, “Chief, I don’t mean to be disrespectful. It’s just… the Guardian Spirit never seems to need these offerings. It never takes them.”
“Intent is what matters,” Shi Yunfeng reassured, patting his shoulder.
The Guardian Spirit, also known as the “Spirit of Sacrifice,” was the protector of the village, warding off the savage beasts of the wild. The elders remembered that decades ago, their previous Guardian—a mystical stone—had been different. It would always drain the vital essence from the sacrifices. But then, one stormy night, the old willow arrived, and the stone chose to depart.
Recalling that night, the old chief grew distant. He had been but a youth then, witnessing the terrifying spectacle: thunder splitting mountains, floods surging like seas, and beasts stampeding in terror. Amid the chaos, a colossal willow descended from the heavens, wreathed in lightning, its countless branches lashing the sky like divine chains, as if battling some unseen horror. In the end, the tree fell, charred and shrunken, landing in Stone Village. The storm ceased, and the village’s mystical stone guardian vanished.
For decades, the willow remained lifeless, until a single green sprout emerged ten years ago—unchanged since.
“Be careful with these beasts, you rascals,” the chief reminded, snapping back to the present. “Their blood essence, tendons, and bones are incredibly precious. Don’t waste a drop.”
Villagers wielded silver blades, hacking through the tough hides and bones, sparks flying. Great earthen jars were prepared to collect the concentrated blood essence, a potent medicinal treasure. Among the carcasses, the most prized was the Pi Xiu descendant—though far from a pureblood royal, its veins still carried traces of true blood, making it invaluable.
“This Twin-Headed Fire Rhino’s horns hold astonishing true blood! No less precious than the Pi Xiu!” An elder expertly extracted the glowing red essence, which briefly took the form of a roaring, miniature rhino before being sealed away.
“Chief, these dragon-horned tusks are treasures too. We only managed to claim them because the beast was already dying,” a young man reported.
Shi Yunfeng nodded. “Indeed, rare finds. These horns have matured for years—carefully extract them. They’ll make excellent bone-strengthening tonics.”
As the villagers worked, laughter filled the air—until the children bolted, knowing the “tonics” would soon be forced upon them.
Hours later, the harvesting was complete. The chief and elders stored the essence-laden jars for refinement.
“We’ll cure some of this meat, smoke the rest, and dry it,” an experienced elder directed. The bounty would last the village for days, a precious commodity in these lean times.
Women divided the meat with genuine smiles, relieved their men had returned safely with such abundance. Soon, the scent of roasting meat filled the air, golden and glistening over open fires. The villagers feasted with gusto.
“Eat up, child! Pi Xiu meat grants strength—it’s a rare delicacy!”
“Fill your belly with Twin-Headed Rhino meat, brat. It’ll toughen your skin and bones like iron! Skip the useless boar!”
Laughter and the aroma of rich, hearty meals spread through the village, turning the night into a celebration of survival and fortune.
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