Just as Max stepped into the path of the sixth layer, the invisible weight pressing against his body increased once again, and this time it was not only the raw pressure of the flames but also the authority of the fire laws themselves that bore down on him.
The air felt heavier. Each breath carried searing heat that seemed to burrow into his lungs and circulate through his meridians. The surrounding flames no longer flickered aimlessly. They moved with intent, as if every spark carried a fragment of will.
Instead of resisting immediately, Max allowed the pressure to settle over him. He wanted to understand it. He wanted to feel it clearly.
Because of this, he began walking deeper into the sixth layer without haste, his steps steady despite the rising intensity.
Five thousand two hundred miles.
Five thousand three hundred miles.
Five thousand five hundred miles.
