The underground magma sea glowed with the sullen, ancient ferocity of a newborn world. Ten thousand feet beneath the scorched crust of the Western Barrens, the air was not merely hot. It was a high-pressure fire of white-hot sulfur, volatilized quartz, and churning dark rock vapors. Waves of orange-gold liquid stone rippled across the vast cave floor, throwing dancing ribbons of crimson light against the huge black glass ceiling high above.
Inside the see-through dilatant fluid capsule, however, the air remained remarkably calm.
Lin Xiao kept his human avatar—an eighteen-year-old scholar in azure linen robes—sitting cross-legged in the center of the ball-shaped watching floor. His feet rested comfortably within the circulating pool of chilled mountain springwater that formed the capsule’s inside core. In his left hand, he held a chilled heavy clay bowl filled with sweet, crisp water chestnuts preserved in iced plum syrup, a snack he had carefully prepared before they left the Myriad Spirit Safe hall. With a gentle flick of his chopsticks, he popped a crunchy slice into his mouth.
“Honestly,” Lin Xiao remarked, savoring the cool, sweet crunch as the tart plum juice refreshed his palate, “if you ignore the fact that falling into the soup out there would melt a flying sword into melted rock waste, the surrounding lighting is quite sky. It has the rustic charm of an upscale charcoal grill house.”
