In the southeastern part of the world, lush trees stretched as far as the eye could see. Ancient trees towered along the lakeshore, their trunks strong and sturdy, their branches reaching toward the sky. Each was about the size of a small mountain, and thick vines like coiling dragons crawled everywhere.
Beyond this lush land, a little over a thousand meters ahead, lay a desolate, silent wasteland. The mountains were much the same, most of them bare and barren, with dried-up waterfalls. Collapsed pavilions and sprawling complexes of ancient buildings had become ruins, though one could still imagine their former grandeur.
After quickly crossing this barren land, a wave of scorching heat washed over them, making it feel as if they had entered a land consumed by fire. Red sand glittered everywhere. Flames soared into the sky, and roiling magma boiled inside a volcanic crater. It had not spilled out, but was still terrifying, turning half the sky red.
An ancient, unadorned building bobbed up and down amid the churning magma, appearing above the surface from time to time. The sight was deeply strange. The ancient hall gleamed, crystalline and bright, with the aura of ages flowing around it and streaks of divine radiance swirling through the air.
Heaven's suppression limited Wu Qi's cultivation, allowing him to wield no more than Golden Immortal-level power. Even so, he felt the heat of the magma. Enduring the scorching temperature, he carefully shielded the cradle in his hands. The cradle was a precious treasure in its own right, able to ward off heat and cold and soothe its occupant to sleep.
The Wu People had suffered a great calamity and had nearly been wiped out. They fled far from the central lands, with only a few survivors escaping to the desolate southeast. Here