After cultivating for several hours, Lian had finally absorbed all twenty orbs. The sun showed no sign of setting, and he desperately needed shelter. Cultivation could substitute for sleep, but not indefinitely, a fleeting reprieve in a relentless world.
Stretching, he began walking in a random direction, his steps heavy with exhaustion. An unknown amount of time passed—Lian could no longer gauge its flow. It could have been hours or mere minutes. He was too tired to focus on anything but moving quickly.
"I wonder if I will ever get out of this Gate…" he murmured, his tattered boots striking the sandy ground. "It does not seem too tough—the strongest monster I have faced is an Iron 5…"
"…Sure, an Iron 5 could destroy me, but these monsters only jump and bite. They are easy to handle—" His confidence a fragile shield against the unknown.
His thoughts were cut short by a sudden wave of heat rising from beneath the sand.
