Three days later, at the edge of the Fertile Wild Mountains.
Dark clouds spread across the sky, lightning constantly flashed, and bean-sized raindrops continuously fell from the sky.
In the distance, it seemed like there was still a sound of a girl crying, as loud as thunder roar.
"She's been crying for three whole days now, hasn't she?"
Hiding in the temporary tent, a small-sized Fire Monkey asked in a low voice.
As a special race among the Hundred Races of Mountains and Seas, adept at controlling flames, Fire Monkeys detest the continuous rainy days the most.
"If she keeps crying like this, these mountains will turn into swamps."
The Fire Monkey's words weren't an exaggeration, because their current campsite was set up on a high ground.
Yet even on such a high ground, the accumulated water had already reached over their ankles, showing signs of completely flooding the entire camp.
One can imagine what kind of scene the lower valleys and pits must be like right now.
