Flaming Mountain—its name was very similar to the one in Journey to the West.
They had assumed it would be more or less the same place, but upon actually arriving, they discovered it was completely different—the gap was enormous.
At the very least, Tang Monk definitely would not have made it across here. He would have been burned to a crisp halfway through, reduced to charcoal.
Lava flowed everywhere like rivers, while countless bulges rose from the earth, erupting at every moment.
From time to time, new spots would explode, spewing lava several meters, a dozen meters, even hundreds of meters into the air. Before long, new fiery vents would form.
Volcanic ash filled the sky, forming black clouds that sunlight could not penetrate.
What Flaming Mountain? This place was more like the Scorching Hell of the eighteen layers of hell.
The fire-element laws were far too dense, almost tangible, squeezing nearly all other laws away.
Here, fire spells would become terrifyingly powerful, while other kinds of techniques would be heavily suppressed.
The flying boat Li Su rode arrived at night, yet the sky was ablaze. The black clouds above had been scorched red by the light, churning without cease. Accompanied by flickering firelight, they looked like some dreadful creature swimming back and forth within, occasionally casting down scarlet eyes that made hearts tremble.
After disembarking from the flying boat, the smiles vanished from the Azure Luan Sect disciples' faces, replaced by solemn expressions.
This was no longer the Azure Luan Sect, where they could do as they pleased. This was outside—the wilderness, a place beyond safety.
Here, they had to remain vigilant at all times. The environment, demons, and people were all dangerous. One careless mistake could cost them their lives.
Taking a deep breath, a gleam flashed through