Myst Rain Valley.
It lived up to its name, not through gentle rain, but through mist dense enough to drown your thoughts and your spirit sense both.
They arrived at a small river, not one infested with lightning serpents or spiritual crocodiles this time, thankfully. Just clean, moonlit water, lazily winding through the forest's spine. The air here was thick with elemental stillness.
The volcano, "Heavenburn Spire", as it was called in map, rose just beyond the canopy.
It was monstrous, spanning for miles, its peak hidden in clouds even during the day. Now, under the silver eye of the moon, it loomed like a sleeping giant. The heat that emanated from it was soaked up by the valley trees, and the river flowed cool and quiet.
It was the perfect place to die. Or cultivate. Or both.
Su Xiaobai stared at the scene—serene, scenic, suspicious.
But no helpless princess in sight.
He narrowed his eyes.
