Book One, Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-Two
Whoosh!
Zhao Fu had only flown closer for a short distance when a tremendous wind blasted toward him. It was a solar wind carrying an astonishingly high temperature, enough to burn rocks into powder.
Zhao Fu immediately summoned an energy barrier, but it could not withstand the gale. He was blown straight back to where he had started and suffered some injuries. Aside from its extreme heat, the solar wind possessed a terrifying force that could slice open Zhao Fu's body.
Looking at the sun ahead, Zhao Fu thought for a moment. The crystal on his forehead gave off an intense golden light, forming another golden defensive barrier. Zhao Fu continued flying forward.
Whoosh!
The solar wind blew against Zhao Fu, forcing his body backward. Thankfully, he was not sent flying away as he had been last time. Zhao Fu controlled the crystal on his forehead, unleashing greater power to resist the pushing force as he arduously flew onward.
In this way, Zhao Fu slowly advanced. After seven or eight hours, he finally landed on the first sun.
The moment he landed, he found something rather unexpected. From outside, the sun radiated such blinding light that one could not even open their eyes, but after landing on it, the light was not so intense—only somewhat brighter than the moon.
The ground was charred black. Zhao Fu crouched down and grabbed a handful, finding the soil warm and carrying the scent of sunlight, like the smell released by bedding left out to dry in the sun.
There were some plants around them, purple-red in color and rather sparse in number. To one side was a small stream, but what flowed through it was not water, but lava. Yet it did not appear particularly hot.