It didn't take long for Han Yu to regret his choice.
The path he had taken down, steep and dangerous as it was, had shifted. Lava crust had formed new ridges, and worse—he could see glowing eyes and flickering shapes dotting the slope.
Char-scaled geckos the size of small dogs slithered over the rocks with territorial jerks of their heads, tails lashing. Meanwhile, flying around them were bloated volcanic wasps—buzzing loudly, their wings beating sparks into the air.
They were clearly engaged in some brutal turf war. Every few seconds, a wasp would dive at a gecko, only to be caught midair by a flailing tail swipe. The geckos hissed. The wasps hissed louder.
Han Yu blinked, then quietly stepped back behind a boulder.
"Yeah. No," he whispered to himself. "Not interrupting the Battle of Mount Insect. I'd rather fight Li Mei on an empty stomach."
The slope was out of the question.
