The Flying Boat sailed silently through the clouds several hundred zhang above the ground. Hundreds of miles ahead stood a vast mountain range, sprawling across the land like an ancient divine dragon. Perhaps it was not quite as imposing as Kang Prefecture's Hengduan Mountain Range, but it was still a magnificent sight. This mountain range was what stopped the sandstorms sweeping in from the Great Desert, known as the Desert of Death, and its bone-dry climate. It formed a natural green barrier, keeping the inland region's climate relatively normal and preventing the ever-expanding desert from swallowing it whole.
Nature was wondrous at times. Its many different landforms divided the world into naturally isolated regions, each with its own character—a work of supernatural craftsmanship.
Taking the Flying Boat straight across that immense mountain range was no safe undertaking. A mountain range of this size was nothing like the ordinary ridge people might imagine, something a boat could simply fly over. In truth, its breadth and complexity far exceeded anyone's expectations. Ten-thousand-zhang-deep ravines and chasms were everywhere, and countless peaks soared over a thousand miles high, piercing the firmament.
In Lei Dong's memories of his previous life, Mount Everest had been the world's tallest peak. Here, it would have been no more than a short, insignificant mound. Cultivators and Flying Boats alike could indeed soar through the sky, but they were still subject to limits. The higher one went, the harsher the conditions became. At heights exceeding a hundred miles, temperatures plunged, and hurricanes slashed like knives. Ordinary people could not survive there.
Foundation Establishment cultivators were far stronger and more resilient, with greatly enhanced vitality. Yet at heights of several hundred miles, simply staying alive became a struggle. The higher one went, the stronger the invisible currents known as astral winds