The land of Huo Shu, situated on the border between Siqi and Qingqiu, was far more barren than either of its neighbors. Compared to the abundant lakes and rivers of Siqi or the vast herds of Qingqiu, Huo Shu seemed destitute.
Here, jagged boulders stretched endlessly to the horizon, and the ground was a cracked, shriveled wasteland. There was some green, but precious little of it; what little existed was mostly drought-hardened plants that blended in with their surroundings.
Yet Li Huowang was long accustomed to such sights. It had been some time since they had left the coast after killing the creature in the sky that could summon clouds and rain.
Now, Li Huowang and the others had completely changed their attire, dressing like peasants fleeing a disaster. Considering Huo Shu was still at war with the Dharma Sect, running into anyone could spell trouble.
But even so, in this war-torn chaos, trouble was a constant companion.
