Breathing

However, the crisis did not come.

The brass doors shaped like lung lobes opened inward. Inside was the main hall of a massive stone temple, where large numbers of Dragon Lung Cultivators sat cross-legged on meditation cushions, their hands folded before their chests and clasped into rings.

Besides the Dragon Lung Cultivators, there were also some Sick Ones who had not undergone Dragon Transformation. Their lungs either floated within hollow chests or hung outside their bodies, yet all of them maintained a cross-legged posture.

William could tell at a glance that these people seemed to be cultivating something. Their breathing was soft but rhythmic.

Most importantly, more than 70 percent of those cultivating on the cushions were Silver Circle Diseased. There were nearly a hundred of them—a force that would have been terrifying even in the Old World.

With the arrival of William and the other three, and with the "Master" speaking,

the people stopped meditating and cultivating, turning their heads one after another toward the four people at the entrance.

At the same time, deep within the main hall, an ancient cane slowly propped itself up,

but no legs emerged—only a withered arm covered in corpse spots gripped the end of the cane, while a purple cloak concealed the suspended body.

There were no legs.

The arm was connected only to a set of lungs billowing purple smoke and the elderly head attached to the trachea above them. Dragon-scale structures covered his cheeks.

Upon closer observation, one would find that the old man resembled a conductor. His breathing stirred the breathing of everyone present.

When this person appeared, Lorien, who had been pretending to be a blind patient all this time, slowly opened his eyes as well, gazing at the strange existence with his Full Moon Eyes.

The other