Compared to the gloomy and damp dungeon, the sunlight on the surface was exceptionally warm and pleasant.
The Sea of Suffering Cult was clearly incomparable to Half Moon Hall, boasting not only more experts but also palace complexes and pavilions right by the sea, though now all these pavilions had been destroyed by An Yang, leaving only a few particularly dilapidated broken walls standing along the coastline.
There were probably seventy or eighty prisoners locked in this dungeon, and at this moment, they all squinted at the bright sunlight and the endless coastline, feeling a rather surreal sense of having survived a lifetime.
An Yang took a deep breath, magically produced a white jade bottle out of thin air, poured out a few medicinal pills, shoved them into his mouth, and then tossed the bottle to the person beside him.
The magic power consumed within his body just now was too great, and he had sustained some minor injuries himself, so it was just the right time to take some pills to recover.
The person beside him had a greasy, bushy beard, but he was quite straightforward. Having just watched An Yang eat these pills, he caught the white jade bottle without even looking at it, directly copied An Yang by pouring a few pills into his mouth, and then passed the bottle to the next person.
An Yang smiled, produced another black porcelain bottle, likewise poured a few pills into his mouth, and tossed the bottle to the bearded man.
The number of pills was not enough to go around, so he took out some more.
Only then did the bearded man finally speak, "You've got quite a stash!"
Perhaps because he had suffered torments in the dungeon, or because he hadn't spoken for too long, his voice was