"So it can be blocked head-on?"
Estrella awkwardly put away the dragon-blood stone, forcing a smile. In all recorded climbs, everyone either dodged the ironstorm or dove into a nearby heaven to hide. Marching into it behind a shield was unheard of.
Orson just nodded and pushed onward. They cleared the Fiftieth Heaven in short order. Every kind of rule-born hazard swept down on them in turn, morphing into black flame, waves and rolling stone, and each in turn was smashed apart by brute force.
Past this tier, anyone grinding strength here was a regional powerhouse. Nuhachit yelped, "No way, that's the old War-owl chieftain! I thought he died!"
"Bullshit. I was in seclusion, not a grave." The wiry middle-aged man bristled, and Nuhachit bared his teeth in a grin, bowing fast.
"Whoa! The Python-Jiao seer. A commander-tier legend from two centuries ago!"
