A beautiful yet deadly magma chamber lay hidden within the depths of Vermilion Bird Mountain. Seen from a higher vantage point, it looked like a sea of flowing fire. The lake's dazzling depths naturally invited endless speculation, making one wonder whether an evil of flame lurked beneath it or whether it served as a passage to another world. 

The truth was neither. A sacred bird, however, did exist.

Deep within the mountain's earth veins, hidden among countless molten channels and cave pockets, a tiny fire bird no larger than a human palm slept soundly beneath a halo of shifting colors. Its wings were wrapped tightly around its body, and it rested so peacefully that the turmoil of the outside world seemed incapable of reaching it. Wisps of crimson flame drifted from its small form, melting the surrounding rock into molten liquid that flowed through the mountain's veins before eventually feeding the magma lake above. 

Yet despite their immense heat, those flames remained confined within a thousand-zhang radius around the sleeping bird. Beyond that core region stretched a labyrinth of scorched caves, magma tubes, and gas pockets. Though no longer touched directly by the Vermilion Bird Sacred Fire, those areas had been tempered by its heat for countless years and remained deadly to almost all living beings.

Within one such cave pocket, beyond the thousand-zhang boundary, the heat had far surpassed even what people thought of as the core of a volcano. Merely stepping into the area created the unsettling sensation that even one's thoughts were beginning to dissolve. Without a proper foundation, it was virtually impossible for anyone to set foot there.

Drip! Drip!

The sound cut through the silence of the inferno. A man stood within that deadly heat, and the dripping sound came from droplets of black liquid running down his body and onto the ground. Those acquainted with Han Zhan of the Falling...