"Yes." The middle-aged man hurried back to the carriage, helping him sit up against the wall. The man in his thirties beside him pulled the blanket up higher.
"Father, has lying down too long made you uncomfortable? Sitting might be better. I've just brewed some tea—let's have a warm cup!" The man in his thirties spoke as he prepared to pour a cup.
The old man waved his hand, lifted the curtain, and gazed toward the dilapidated temple. His brow furrowed as he spoke weakly, "This storm and thunder... likely signify the Yin and murderous intent are condensing within that ruined temple and is nearing its formative stage—the Heavenly Thunder Tribulation. Should that truly take shape, the calamity would be endless."
Hearing this, the middle-aged man fell silent for a moment before replying, "Father, once Yin and all the murderous energy condense and takes form, it will be unstoppable. I fear even we won't be able to prevent it."
