Amid that peal of wild laughter, Wang Yan's body suddenly straightened, and he immediately took great strides, striding forward along the Iron Lock Bridge.
The Iron Lock Bridge swayed up and down, magma roared and surged beneath the bridge, yet Wang Yan neither turned back nor tried to flee; his eyes shone brightly, his ears pricked.
Even with that erupting magma roaring beneath his feet, Wang Yan's bright eyes were fixed tightly upon the giant waves.
Under Wang Yan's gaze, those waves seemed to feel fear; their momentum softened, their breath weakened.
The Iron Lock Bridge clanged and rattled, and in just a few steps Wang Yan caught up with Venerable Fuqing; with a few more steps he had gone past Venerable Ghost Valley.
This is fear: if you harbor it in your heart, it will turn into the demon that devours you; if you regard it as nothing, it is merely an insignificant ant.
At this moment the magma and the iron bridge were nothing more than an ant beneath Wang Yan's feet.
