The Canyon looked like a savage wound in the Mountain, its walls seemingly cleaved apart by a giant axe, rising sheer toward a sky of roiling black clouds.
The Rain suddenly grew heavier.
Torrential Rain hammered the rock faces, throwing up a hazy veil of mist.
On either side, a few Black Marks struggled through the downpour and thick mist along the towering cliffs—a handful of lone birds flying against the wind.
And below the passing shadows of those birds...
A few ancient pines clung miraculously to the almost vertical Cliff Face on either side of the Canyon, their roots gnarled and tangled.
"There are birds here?"
Zhou Mo was surprised. They hadn't seen birds in a long time—or, rather, they hadn't seen any living creatures other than strange entities in a long time. The sight of these birds gave them a sense of security, as though their group weren't the only ones in this deserted Wasteland.
“Before we entered the Mountain, I saw plenty of trees up there. Maybe there are wild boars or something too. We could catch some game.”
"We could even keep the bones and make soup when winter comes."
"That sounds pretty good."
"..."
Chen Fan didn't join the conversation. He merely frowned slightly as he watched the mist rising where the downpour struck the ground, puzzled.
The Wasteland had a peculiar way of draining floodwater.
Normally...
With continuous rainfall on this scale, flooding should have broken out long ago.
But countless tiny Rifts covered the ground in the Wasteland. All the rainwater vanished into those Rifts, draining away completely.
This place was different.
Once they entered the Canyon, the Rifts disappeared. The ground beneath the convoy was extremely compacted and didn't look capable of draining water, yet every drop of rain that landed on