Chapter 85: Harvest

Little One’s eyes glowed with excitement, his heart ablaze with fervor. Ignoring the severe injuries on his body, he quickly rushed forward.

On the mountain, the golden bone scissors radiated a faint, mystical brilliance, exuding a mysterious and powerful force as it lay amidst the scattered rocks, sending shivers down one’s spine.

“This is truly a terrifying treasure,” Little One said with joy, picking up the scissors and examining it closely.

Reduced in size, the scissors were now only as big as a palm, entirely golden and dazzling. There was no doubt that it was an extremely rare treasure, its value beyond measure.

It felt heavy in his hand, far surpassing any metal in weight. Composed of two bone pieces from the upper and lower jaws, it was unrecognizable at first glance. After being polished and nurtured, it had become a glossy, translucent masterpiece.

In reality, it was remarkably beautiful, as if crafted by a master artisan using their life’s work. The two intertwined dragons were vividly lifelike, making it a legendary creation.

The scissors didn’t seem sharp at first glance and felt smooth to the touch, but in battle, they were terrifyingly powerful, capable of easily severing mountain peaks.

The golden bone had some faint, ancient patterns on it, resembling coiling dragons—fearsome beasts from antiquity. These weren’t runes but rather ornamental designs.

“Indeed, the scenes of many tribes being annihilated were caused by this,” Little One noted. With a slight activation, he saw once again the battlefield strewn with corpses. The origin of this bone scissors was astonishing.

There was no doubt that it was a deadly weapon; otherwise, how could it have caused such widespread carnage? In combat, this scissors could break through almost anything.

Little One tested it out. The scissors flew out with a whoosh and, with a hum, effortlessly severed a low, rocky ridge in front of him, leaving him stunned by the immense power.

However, there was a drawback—just one strike had drained much of his vitality, leaving him feeling weak and unsteady.

“This consumes too much energy; I can’t use it lightly,” Little One muttered to himself.

No wonder the sacrificial spirit appeared so exhausted when using this weapon—it had caused such a tremor that it ended up with its body trembling and eventually succumbing to an internal injury.

“I’m not a pangolin, and this bone isn’t of the same kind. There’s no need to consider reviving the golden bone against the heavens. I should treat it simply as a rare treasure and avoid harming myself.”

Little One’s eyes sparkled as he cherished the scissors, feeling no threat from the glossy golden bone. Instead, he saw it as a protective charm.

With a whoosh, the scissors turned into a streak of golden light and disappeared into a “volcano’s mouth,” where it sank into the “lava” and floated within, nourished by the energies of heaven and earth. Little One stored it away like this.

As the mist cleared, the mountain returned to its tranquility. A bright moon hung in the sky, casting light over the ravaged terrain, scarred and devastated, with trees destroyed.

In the distance, there were sounds of groaning, filled with agony. Little One had battled the sacrificial spirit for so long that the area was almost flattened, causing many marauders to be caught in the aftermath.

Especially with the massive pangolin, each charge or use of its weapon had shattered rocks and injured many. At least twenty or thirty marauders had been accidentally killed.

When the mist cleared and the battlefield became visible, the marauders stood up from behind distant boulders, staring at the scene in shock and disbelief.

The sacrificial spirit was defeated and lay dead on the mountain.

To them, it was like a myth shattering, a tremendous shock. The sacrificial spirit was like a god to them, invincible. Yet now it had been slain by a child.

“You killed the sacrificial spirit, the reincarnation of an ancient beast,” the marauders cried out, terrified.

They turned pale, trembling, realizing that without the sacrificial spirit, survival in this desolate wilderness was a certainty of death.

They had believed the sacrificial spirit was invincible, waiting to see the child being devoured. They never expected this unbelievable outcome.

“What do you want? Are you going to kill us too?” one marauder stammered. They were fearless when killing others, but now faced with their own demise, they were just as terrified.

“We sent out part of our men, and they were all killed by you, weren’t they?” They were horrified. A mere child had killed thirty to forty of them and then found and killed the sacrificial spirit. Now, he seemed intent on wiping them all out. Just thinking about it was terrifying.

At this moment, Little One was like a demon in their eyes.

“I haven’t killed those men, nor do I intend to execute each of you,” Little One said calmly.

“Ah!” The crowd gasped, then rejoiced. Surviving was more important than anything else.

“Are those thirty or forty people still alive?” the chief asked with an unusual expression.

“No, they were all devoured by beasts,” Little One replied.

“You…” The crowd’s faces changed, realizing that the child was not only merciless but also unwilling to get his hands dirty. He would not let them go.

“Grandpa said that being too lenient with evil people only leads to more deaths as they continue their havoc,” Little One murmured, raising his wrist.

A string of translucent beast teeth appeared, each one as clear as jade. This was the first treasure he had obtained, belonging to the sacrificial spirit of the Bei Village.

With a whoosh, forty-two glowing points flew out, as white as jade, towards the marauders. With muffled thuds, blood splattered as many of the marauders were incapacitated, their vital energies drained.

“Ah, no!”

“You…”

They were terrified, angry, and fearful. Losing their combat power in this desolate wilderness was akin to being sent to hell. How could they possibly withstand the ferocious beasts?

The chief tried to escape but was specifically targeted by Little One. The white beast teeth flew out, entangling him and grinding away all the runes within his body.

“God, no!”

But it was too late. In an instant, dozens of people lay on the ground, gasping for breath, filled with terror.

Little One, who had knocked down many people since entering the mountain, had not delivered the final blow, leaving their lives to be “purified” by the wilderness.

“I want to know where you come from and why you serve these people,” Little One began interrogating, wanting to understand the terrifying power behind these marauders.

At first, the marauders were uncooperative, but eventually, they revealed everything.

“Little Western Heaven,” Little One murmured. The marauders mentioned this name, but their knowledge was limited. They were merely following orders to search for the Supreme God’s treasure. It was rumored that they had leads and now needed to collect a large amount of black gold for breaking ancient rune formations in the future.

The marauders were not the only group, but only they had such a powerful sacrificial spirit. This pangolin came from that Little Western Heaven.

After resolving everything, Little One’s tense nerves finally relaxed. He slumped to the ground and then lay down, exhausted.

He was physically and mentally drained, with several bloody wounds and a nearly broken spine. Covered in blood and injuries, he had endured severe trauma during the battle and had been holding on until now.

With the sacrificial spirit dead and the marauders’ combat power lost, Little One relaxed completely, lying there, unwilling to move or get up.

The runes glowed, automatically healing his wounds. He moaned in pain. This battle had been extremely perilous, and he had nearly lost his life, coming very close to death.

He had fought the sacrificial spirit for hundreds of rounds, relying solely on his strong will and perseverance to reach this point. Finally, he could relax. The bleeding had long since stopped, and his body was crackling as it regenerated flesh and rebuilt itself.

"Chirp chirp."

The little furball appeared and pointed toward the distance, indicating that it had controlled the marauders' mounts.

Seeing Little One’s serious injuries, it scratched its ears and face, letting out a mournful cry, as if to say, “Why do I have to bleed again? This is so unlucky.”

“Stop pretending to be tragic. I didn’t ask you to use your precious blood to save me,” Little One said with a frown, taking out a jade jar from his pocket and pouring out a fragrant pill.

The furball immediately began to screech in frustration, hopping around and waving its small paws.

“Alright, stop screaming. I admit it’s made from your golden blood, but it’s just leftover from before,” Little One explained, feeling somewhat guilty.

With a gulp, he swallowed the pill. Instantly, his entire body surged with energy. The pill dissolved quickly, repairing his injuries with remarkable efficacy.

The furball was very upset. It darted over, snatched the jade jar, and tried to pour it into its own mouth, only to find it empty. It howled in anger and threw the jar far away.

“Furball, that was made from your blood mixed with some old medicine. How could you expect to eat it? Otherwise, we can refine another batch when we return,” Little One suggested in a conciliatory tone.

“Chirp chirp.” The furball shook its tiny golden fist and gave him a big eye-roll, showing disdain. It would never agree to that.

“Let’s go.”

Half an hour later, Little One stood up, feeling revitalized. Three “volcanoes” appeared, pouring “lava” down into his body, rejuvenating his spirit.

Many of the mounts had been killed by the falling rocks, leaving about thirty to forty remaining, just enough to carry the shattered, massive body of the sacrificial spirit. It was a treasure that couldn’t be left behind.

“Furball, take care of these marauders,” Little One instructed.

The furball let out a loud cry towards the distant mountains. Several huge beasts that had been lying in wait soon appeared, rushing towards the broken forest.

In the end, all the marauders were exterminated, not a single one was left.

Just a few miles away, Little One encountered the old chief, who rushed over with a face full of worry and urgency.

Little One felt warm inside. Grandpa was worried, and seeing him take such a risk meant a lot to him.

“Grandpa, I’m here.”

“Child, you’re alright! That’s wonderful,” the old chief said with great relief and excitement. Upon seeing dozens of fierce beasts carrying the shattered golden body of the pangolin, he was left speechless.

“You killed that sacrificial spirit?”

“Yes,” Little One nodded.

“Hahaha!” The old chief laughed heartily, tears welling up with joy and satisfaction. He felt that the child had grown up and was ready to soar into the great expanse.

They headed back together. After traveling more than ten miles, they encountered a large group of people, including Shi Linhu, Shi Feijiao, and other strong men, all with red eyes and a determined expression.

“What? You killed that huge sacrificial spirit?” The group of men was stunned, then burst into laughter.

Their tension and worries vanished, and they returned to the village with their spoils. At this time, Stone Village was quiet and empty, with everyone else having been evacuated.

“Hurry up, chase them down and call them all back.”

Such a great joy couldn’t wait until morning. They needed everyone in the clan to know, to alleviate any anxiety and worry.

“Grandpa, I’m going to sleep now.” Little One fell into a deep sleep. When he woke up, it was already the next evening.

The village was filled with the aroma of meat, cheerful laughter, and all the villagers had returned, each face beaming with radiant smiles.

The aunts and grandmothers were all smiles, busy preparing the sacrificial spirit’s flesh. The meat stewing in the pot emitted a faint glow, rich in essence and a bit intimidating.

Children ran around excitedly, shouting joyfully. This was the sacrificial spirit’s flesh—something they had only dreamed of before, but now they could feast on it.

“You’re amazing, Little One! You actually killed the sacrificial spirit,” a group of children surrounded Little One, full of excitement and admiration.

“Big brother, you’re so incredible. You have to teach me how to do that in the future,” Qingfeng said with glowing eyes, almost worshiping him.

The adult men were equally thrilled, bustling around with enthusiasm. The sacrificial spirit’s flesh, rich in essence and blood, needed to be properly processed—a priceless treasure.

Cooked and roasted meat was just a small portion. More meat and bones would be combined with old medicine to create even better effects. This would greatly benefit all the villagers and significantly improve their constitution.

The clan elders were also busy all day, personally handling the most valuable blood and tendons.

Hunting down a golden pangolin was like finding a treasure for Stone Village. If used well, it could have a tremendous impact.

That night, the villagers were overjoyed, surrounded by laughter and excitement, gathered around the bonfire, enjoying the delicious sacrificial spirit meat.