It was a comfort and warmth beyond words.
On top of that, the silver dragon priests chanted in low unison, their hymn sounding like a lullaby whispered beside his ear.
It was like the guilt and emotion of returning home after years of grinding away at a 996 job in the big city, only to see one's elderly mother standing at the entrance to the country road, craning her neck as she waited eagerly.
And like the relaxation and contentment of curling up in a dim yet warm bed on a rainy holiday.
At that moment, Li Wei nearly forgot why he had come.
He forgot the imminent Abyss expedition upon which everything had been staked.
He forgot the crushing hopes and responsibilities the people had piled onto him layer by layer ever since Zelandia had been founded.
He forgot every hardship he had suffered since crossing into this brutal world.
He wanted nothing more than to sink forever into this warm "embrace," never to wake again, never to face those painful choices that had to be faced.
Yet just as he was about to follow his instincts and continue sinking into it, a dense chorus of cracking sounds abruptly dragged him back to reality.
Forcing open his bleary eyes, he followed the sound and saw that, in a distant corner at the edge of the square, an earlier batch of "dragon eggs" had already hatched from within a layer of dragon-made ice.
The sound of shattering eggshells seemed to draw the attention of the silver dragon priests wearing crowns as well. They stopped chanting, some flying onto the ice mountain and others onto The Standing Stone near the square. As they watched the "Young Dragons" emerge from their shells, a faint trace of hope rose in their numb eyes.