The five of them burst out of the lava river and landed on the bank. Waves of heat still rushed at them, and the ground was scorching hot. If anyone below the Planetary Level stood here, they probably would not even be able to remain on their feet.
"Are you all alright?" Wang Teng looked at An Lan and the others.
"I'm fine." An Lan shook his head and asked the other three Universe Level Martial Artists of the Mechanical Race, "An Feng, An Yuan, An Tong, what about you?"
"Other than being a little hot, it's nothing. But if we hadn't reacted quickly enough, that might not have been the case," one Mechanical Race Martial Artist said in a muffled voice.
"This lava river truly has some tricks to it. Even the bodies of us Mechanical Race members can barely withstand it," another Mechanical Race Martial Artist said.
"Be more careful. If you turn into a puddle of molten metal, I'll have to spend money to forge new bodies for you. What a hassle," An Lan said.
Wang Teng felt that something about those words sounded strange.
So it did not matter if a Mechanical Race body broke down, huh? As long as there was money, they could simply replace it.
How nice!
Why was he suddenly a little envious?
"Got it, boss." The Mechanical Race Martial Artist named An Feng scratched his mechanical head and replied in a muffled voice.
Clang!
An Lan angrily smacked An Feng on the head, producing an enormous clang. "I told you not to call me boss. You're making us sound like interstellar pirates."
"Oh." An Feng looked utterly wronged as he hurriedly nodded.
The other two Mechanical Race Martial Artists shrank their necks, seemingly a little traumatized by An Lan.
Wang