The Dead Range is completely different than the Fire Swamp.
No mud. No trees. No water bodies that hide monsters beneath the surface. This place offered a different kind of hostility. The air was cold; seeping into the bones as if it were a warning of what cold deaths coiled in this desolate plain.
Stone stretched in every direction, adding nothing to the pale grey scenery.
Mountains, dozens of them, pierced the sky like spears and cast shadow through their valleys.
In fact, the shadows stretched unnaturally far, shrouding more space than they should.
And the silence that choked this place was the worst of it all.
Every footstep rang out like a hammer on an anvil; the echo bounced across the flat stone and then died somewhere in the valleys between those towering peaks. A kicked pebble sounded like a shout. An exhale became a distant whisper.
As Kai and the others moved through it, they were forced to hear every sound they made
