Pan Long spent the whole morning building a new camp.
He built it on a relatively gentle slope, surrounded by solid stone. There was no danger of his feet sinking into the ground.
He pitched his tent against a cliff. To guard against falling rocks, he cleared away every loose stone above it and even shaved about two meters off the entire hilltop.
His body was now so heavy it was a burden, but his strength and toughness had also reached an incredible level. Solid rock was like a lump of soft, dry earth beneath his fists; the slightest effort could smash off a huge chunk.
If necessary, he could spend a few days leveling the entire peak into one vast open space.
Of course, that was unnecessary.
Once he had tidied the cliff, leveled his "bed," pitched the tent, and dug a firepit, the camp was ready.
The site was not particularly high, windy, or cold. It was wide open, though, with a view that stretched far into the distance.
Best of all, Pan Long could see a distant valley from there.
It was a gap in the mountain range. Yellow sand and vegetation had long since claimed it, but traces of a fortress were still faintly visible. Years ago, it must have been a vital pass guarding this mountain defense line, with desert on one side and forest on the other.
He had no intention of going there to conduct an archaeological dig. What interested him was whether people from this world might go there to do just that—and whether he might spot them.
He was not particularly interested in what world this was. But if he met some of its people and learned enough to work out where the world came from, he could get a character