Chapter 111: Western Continent
[Damien Pov]
The transition was abrupt.
One moment, the Iron-Horse Mark II was rolling over the grey, paved roads of the Dwarven mountain passes, surrounded by snow-capped peaks and the smell of pine.
The next, the road ended.
The carriage hit a ridge, and suddenly, the world turned red.
Ahead of them lay the Western Continent. It wasn’t a forest, and it wasn’t a kingdom. It was a scar on the face of the world.
Endless canyons of jagged, rust-colored rock stretched to the horizon. The ground was cracked and dry, baking under a sun that seemed twice as large and angry here as it did in the East.
Heat haze shimmered off the ground, distorting the air like a mirage.
"Ugh..." Lyra groaned from the backseat, fanning herself with a large leaf she had conjured. Her grey skin looked pale and sweaty.
"This air... it’s dead. There is no moisture. No life. Just dust and fire mana."
"It feels nice," Leona countered from the driver’s seat. She had rolled up her sleeves, basking in the sun. "It feels like a kiln. Good for the muscles."
"It feels like an oven," Isabelle muttered, though she was currently eating a Frost-Melon she had bought in Ironforge to keep cool. "Young Master, are we really going in there? My horns are starting to itch."