From the neighboring volcanic ridge, Elder Jill stood frozen, a wave of spiritual pressure pressing down on her chest like a divine mountain. Her lips trembled as her aged eyes widened with disbelief.
"He's... he's still standing," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the cacophony of hisses and rumbling earth. The Fire Mountain had awakened, but not as a place—it had risen as a beast. A god.
All around her, spectators and guards from the distant peaks and sect towers stared in awe. Many of them had come simply to confirm the myth. But none had expected this. The sky had turned a greenish hue. Poison mist covered the horizon like a rolling tide.
"This... this isn't just a mountain," a young sect disciple gasped, his knees giving out. "It's a living divine beast!"
