The remaining warmth of the Flame Mountain has long since dissipated, and only the scorched earth that has been sealed by Wuzhishan for three hundred years is still whispering about the blazing heat of the past. The Bull Demon King lay in that desolate land, his limbs and bones pierced by golden rune chains. Each rune was slowly absorbing the remaining demon power in his body, like living maggots eating carrion.
