After three days of trekking, Rick and Moya finally reached the edge of Hell's Corridor.
Gone were the endless grasslands; dark mountains shrouded in mist loomed ahead, signaling they neared their goal.
"Finally see mountains! Cross Feiling Mountain, and we're in Terry County." Moya wiped sweat, excitement flashing in his eyes.
"Hahaha! Told you—what goes around comes around! Moya, race to the foot of the mountain! Loser gives up a combat egg!" Rick yelled excitedly.
"Idiot, do I look stupid?" Moya shot him a disdainful glance. "You run like the wind—race you? I'd be the world's biggest fool. No way am I risking that combat egg."
Caught in his trick, Rick blushed, muttering, "Just you wait, sly bastard!"
"Hey, slow down!" Moya called after Rick, who stormed ahead.
"Slow down?" Rick flipped him off. "Finally escaping this place—gonna move fast. Can't keep up? Don't blame me if a bug eats you!"
"You're retaliating!" Moya panted. "Ever heard 'looking at a mountain can run a horse to death'? We just see it—who knows how far. Save energy or you'll have no strength to flee when we meet bugs!"
Rick slowed, conceding, "This place is weird. Guild manual says a forest with a few combat insects is lucky, but here they're everywhere—and high-rank! Sickle insects are just prey here."
"No kidding—why else is it a forbidden zone?" Moya shot him a look, sketching on a paper.
Rick peered over: "What's that?"
"Mapping." Moya licked his lips, recalling details.
"Mapping why?"
"Rookie move." Moya adjusted his collar proudly. "Exploring unknown zones, mapping them with insect data, then reporting to the Guild earns rewards. A standard map nets millions; this forbidden zone map is priceless! Terry County's Hunter Branch might even grant me a hunting ground."
"That valuable?!" Rick's eyes lit up, grabbing Moya's neck. "We're a team—split the reward!"
"Hey, want free money? Beg me!" Moya laughed.
"Beg you? Looking for a beating!" Rick cracked his knuckles, grinning menacingly.
Seeing Rick ready to strike, Moya changed tune: "Kidding! We're brothers. What's a hunting ground without you?"
"Smart move." Rick released him, striding ahead as Moya flipped him off behind his back.
By dusk, victory came into view: a meter-wide stone crevice—beyond lay Terry County.
"After you." Moya made a gentlemanly gesture.
Rick stepped forward, then hesitated at the dark crevice, retreating awkwardly: "Hehe... You go first."
"No need to be polite. After you—I don't mind." Moya forced a smile.
"Nope, you first—I'll cover you." Rick was uncharacteristically stubborn.
"Why me? You're combat—you lead." Moya flushed.
"Bullshit! Knew you had an agenda. Who knows what's inside? Only fools go first. You go!"
"Hunters teams always have combat up front!"
"Really?" Rick eyed him coldly. "My guild manual says scouts lead."
"Your manual's ancient." Moya argued.
"Don't care. It says scouts lead—you're the scout. Go."
"Unfair!" Moya dodged, improvising: "Rock-paper-scissors. Loser goes first."
Rick agreed. They chanted: "Rock, paper, scissors!"
Moya dragged out "paper," so Rick threw paper first. Moya, watching, quickly threw scissors.
"You lost!"
"You cheated! You threw late!"
"Did not! You threw early. I said 'paper' before throwing—you were too hasty." Moya insisted.
Rick was speechless, trembling with anger before yielding: "Fine, I'll go first. If a combat insect attacks, you think you can escape if I die?"
Grumbling, Rick entered the crevice, Moya clinging to his shirt tail. Unlike the moving crevice under the lake, this hundred-meter-tall chasm stood still, its damp walls mossy and weedy.
"So dark..." Rick inched forward, tripping on rocks.
Moya hid behind him: "My insect-lantern's out of oil, or I'd light up."
"Then why mention it if it's useless? Looking for a fight?"
"Tch..."
Knowing Rick was pissed about being tricked, Moya uncharacteristically held back from bickering.
After stumbling through the crevice, the path suddenly widened—first to two meters, then enough for a Rhinoceros Beetle to pass freely.
"Looks safe," Rick grinned, forgetting Moya's trickery.
"Don't be so sure." Moya tensed as the path broadened. He eyed the barren stone walls—previously covered in moss, now stark naked, a red flag.
"What's there to worry about? We made it this far—you want to turn back?"
"Who said that? Better safe than sorry."
After their usual banter, they pressed on. Gradually, an eerie light pierced the darkness, sending chills down Rick's spine. Fused with his sickle insect instincts, he sensed an overwhelming danger ahead—a presence that made him tremble.
Rick froze, voice shaking: "There's a monster up there... Strong... Insanely strong."
"What do we do?" Moya panicked. Retreat wasn't appealing.
BOOM—!
A thunderous roar exploded. Before they could react, a searing heatwave hit, flinging them through the air. They rolled frantically, scrambling to hide behind a rock, faces caked in ash.
When the scorching blast subsided, Rick touched his hair—charred. "What the hell was that?!"
Moya paled: "I... I think I know where we are."
"Where?" Rick eyed him skeptically.
"The Forbidden Flame Mountain in Terry County. Only here do heatwaves like that exist."
"Forbidden zone again?!" Rick raged. "We just escaped one, and another blocks us! Is this a joke?!"
Moya smacked his forehead: "It makes sense. Hell's Corridor and Flame Mountain are connected. When that meteor crashed into Round Lake, it pierced the earth, emerging through Hell's Corridor. Unspent, it settled here—becoming the final barrier: Flame Mountain."
"So we're trapped?"
"Dunno. No one's ever survived Flame Mountain."
Rick stared at Moya, speechless. Four days of escaping monster-infested Hell's Corridor, only to face death at its doorstep—the whiplash of hope and despair was crushing.
Suddenly, Rick looked up, eyes steeled: "We can't die here. Even if it kills us, we have to check Flame Mountain."
"Impossible! No one survives—"
"Who survived Hell's Corridor before us? We conquered one forbidden zone; we can do it again. We're too tough to die."
"Serious?" Moya searched his eyes.
"Do I look like I'm joking? Coming or not? I'll go alone."
"Fine! If a rookie like you dares, so do I." Moya stood defiantly.
Laughing, Rick slung an arm over Moya's shoulder: "We're too damn tough for fate to kill." They marched toward the crevice exit.
Beyond the canyon, instead of searing heat, billowing white mist enveloped everything. Rick gaped: "Flame Mountain? Where's the fire? Did you mess up?"
Moya scratched his head, confused: "No... Did I guess wrong?"
"Perfect! Wrong means we live!" Rick charged into the mist.
But after running, he shivered: "Weird—one second it roasts my hair, the next freezes me."
"Hot! So hot!" Moya's voice yelled from beside him. Rick turned to see Moya burst from the mist, hair and eyebrows singed, smoking.
"Hot? I feel nothing." Rick gaped at Moya's bedraggled state.
"Huh?" Moya stopped short, shivering: "Now it's cold."
"Fever maybe?" Rick reached for his forehead.
"Bug off! You're the feverish one." Moya swatted his hand, dragging him back: "Feel for yourself."
Steps later, Rick's skin prickled. As the mist thinned, a suffocating heatwave hit, scorching his throat.
"Keh... kehh..."
Rick clutched his throat and staggered back. "Damn... it's scorching!"
After catching his breath, he exchanged a confused look with Moya.
"Half cold, half hot!" they exclaimed simultaneously.
To test their theory, they huddled together and inched toward the cold zone. As with the hot side, the mist thinned, and the temperature plummeted. Gritting their teeth against the biting cold, they burst through the fog—and froze in awe.
"Iceberg?" Rick rubbed his eyes. "It's really an iceberg!"
Moya wore the same stunned expression. He touched the ice: "Impossible. How can an iceberg exist here?" The frigid touch confirmed it wasn't a hallucination.
"Incredible." Rick hefted a chunk of ice. "Come on, check the other side."
Wrapping ice in cloth to cover their mouths, they charged into the thinning mist on the opposite side.
Scalding!
One step across, the air wasn't just hot—it was scalding. Heatwaves licked at Rick like flames; without the ice, the blast would've asphyxiated him.
"Look! Flame Mountain!" Moya yelled.
Rick gaped at the sight—an entire mountain ablaze, its fire dyeing the sky red. The iceberg paled in comparison, dwarfed by the volcano's might. Flame Mountain encircled the iceberg from three sides, pushing it into a corner.
"The iceberg will melt soon," Rick stated.
"This is definitely Flame Mountain." Moya sounded certain. "Captain Lant showed me years ago—I'd never forget. Just didn't know an iceberg lay behind it."
"Look there!" Rick pointed.
In the sky, a red light and a white light streaked like comets, colliding with booms.
"Those are... Fire Dragonflies and Ice Silkworms..." Moya shook Rick's shoulders. "Tell me I'm not dreaming!"
"Calm down—you're wide awake."
"Then it's real!" Moya whooped. "This is a miracle! Captain Lant will freak! Fire Dragonflies, Ice Silkworms... Rhinoceros Beetles and Skywolves are nothing! Iron-Ridge Centipedes are trash!"
"Stop freaking out!" Rick snapped. "What's the big deal?"
"Idiot! Those are Mystic-Rank combat insects! Second only to Celestial-Rank—the emperors of insect world! We're seeing two at once!"
"Mystic-Rank... Worth a fortune?" Rick gulped.
"Don't even think about it." Moya scoffed. "They could wipe out all Kester's hunters with a single spit."
" That strong?" Rick marveled.
"No shit—they're five ranks above your Soldier-Rank."
Deflated, Rick grumbled: "Who cares? We can't hunt them. Shouldn't we focus on escaping?"
Moya suddenly brightened: "I think we can escape."
"You have a plan?"
"Just a theory." Moya rubbed his chin. "Before Hell's Corridor and Flame Mountain, this was a giant iceberg where Ice Silkworms lived. The meteor strike created Flame Mountain, attracting Fire Dragonflies. Being opposite elements and equal ranks, they became enemies. With Flame Mountain's help, Fire Dragonflies dominate, slowly melting the iceberg. The Ice Silkworm must be fighting for survival by attacking here."
"So what's the plan?"
"The Ice Silkworm can't win here. Let's help the Fire Dragonfly shoot it down into Flame Mountain." Moya grinned slyly.
"Burn it? How does that help us?"
"Idiot! The Ice Silkworm's cold can snuff out even Flame Mountain—temporarily. If we run fast enough before the Fire Dragonfly relights it..."
"Brilliant!" Rick clapped Moya. Just as he searched for a rock, a thunderous boom shook the sky. The white light, smoking, plummeted toward Flame Mountain.
"No way... This timing..." Moya gaped.
"Move! Do you want to die?!" Rick kicked Moya and dragged him toward Flame Mountain.