Island God: Going From Level 1 To World Ruler-Chapter 38: Nine-Breath Circulation

Midas had walked for ten minutes straight. He needed an area where he could be at complete peace. He didn’t want distractions when attempting this breathing technique.

He walked to a small waterfall that led to a fast-flowing river. At the base of the waterfall was a small pond that was clear and blue. Large salmon with two-inch fangs swam in groups within.

He walked over to a large boulder the size of an automobile that was perfectly round with a flat top and sat atop it.

He took the scroll off his back and opened it in front of his eyes.

’This breathing technique is meant to come with immense torture from what Dorian said. It is slow... painful. It tempers the body through sheer power, grinding strength into one’s bones and flesh.’ He thought about how Dorian had first explained the technique.

Before reading what lay within, a curious thought popped up in Midas’s head.

"I only got this technique by completing the trail in that horrible monastery." He muttered, "Surely, not everyone who attained this technique in the past had to do the same."

He began reading the scroll.

It was written in Angesh, which Midas could fully understand. Midas knew it was Angesh because the system had informed him on his first day on the island that Angesh was the universal language of Fell-Terra.

His system messages were also written and spoken in Angesh.

He himself spoke the language, despite never having heard about it before.

He wasn’t going to worry about how the translation worked. "I guess the system just takes care of it for me." He shrugged the thought off with these final words.

Within the scroll, there were thousands of small words instructing Midas what to do. The words were barely legible, forcing him to narrow his eyelids and lean forward to read.

’Hmm...’ Midas mused, the words on the page slightly confusing him.

He could tell they were instructions, but many sentences were almost written in riddles.

"What can a man do but look to the sky?" Something like this was meant to be understood as a man having no choice but to have ambition.

"The first breath is crucial; it is the floor on which demons build homes." Sentences like these, however, completely confused Midas. It was far out of his scope of knowledge to understand.

That sentence could be understood as: "The first breath is crucial; it is hell."

Midas continued reading, but after a certain point, he could no longer understand the meaning of the sentences.

The words weren’t blurred nor botched. Instead, they spoke in completely unintelligible riddles.

"What exists and what does not? Is your mind a reality or does it allow you to see like an eye viewing the world from only a hole in the wall?" Sentences like these threw Midas completely off.

’I guess that’s for when I learn the first breath...’ Midas chalked it up to this. He didn’t know if his conclusion was correct, but he wanted to focus on the first breath for now.

After reading for a while, he finally understood how one could achieve the first breath of the technique.

And so, he placed the scroll beside him and closed his eyes. Following the book’s orders, he sat in a meditative position and straightened his back.

Placing one palm above the other on his lap, he began to breathe in and out through his nose.

He focused on a single point, the center of his eyes.

He breathed in, making sure there was no stagnation or flicker in his breath. Steadiness was the priority, and he was set on achieving it. He was as concentrated as ever, his focus not wavering from his breath for even a second.

Sure, there were times when random thoughts popped into his head. Worries, guesses, ideas. However, he maintained observation of his breath through it all.

Following the set guidelines in the scroll, he spent an hour continuously breathing.

During this time, not once did he experience any type of power. Nothing supernatural occurred, nor did he even feel any pain or discomfort other than the slight aching of his back from sitting down so long.

His legs were also asleep by now. They were hurting before, but now they were numb to the pain.

And yet, his breath continued steadily. Many would have stopped by now. Attention span alone getting the better of them. However, Midas had faced far worse.

Being stuck in the same mental loop of death for months in the Ashen Hollow, something like this was nothing of great difficulty.

Maybe it would have torn and crushed him for the first few tries had it been when he first arrived on the island. But now, he felt he could do it forever.

He wanted to. He needed to. There was no other method. This was his golden path to victory.

And just like that, six hours passed. No food, no water. He hadn’t even opened his eyes once, let alone taken a break to go to the bathroom.

His back was killing him. He had to force it straight every few minutes, each movement sending a jolt of pain down his spine.

His legs were inflamed. With no good blood circulation for so many hours, they were swollen and red.

His stomach growled for food, his body yearning for sustenance.

Each breath was now even more difficult to maintain steadiness instead of getting easier as time passed.

Was it all worth it? Nothing had happened yet. Nothing was happening at all. Was anything going to happen?

I mean... he was just breathing. That’s it. Nothing special or fancy. Could this truly lead to something that would grant him an immortal power?

Many questions loomed in Midas’s head. His body completely refused to accept this... however... his mind was a fortress of denial.

He denied all signals from his body. He didn’t care whether he lived or died. He had already made up his mind.

He was going to successfully achieve this first breath, no matter the cause.

After the eighth hour, Midas finally noticed something.

The steadiness in his breath was something that he could now completely read.

Like a musical note, he could tell when it was slightly raised or fallen.

And for the first time, he could align it to be perfectly still for an entire breath’s length.

Before, he had been able to get it nearly perfect. But now, for an inhalation and an exhalation, his breath was absolutely equalized.

His entire body shook from his core at once. He felt like a cold fell over him, chills crawling up his spine.

His hair stood on end, his heart beginning to pound.

And then... it assulted him all at once. A blistering pain emerged from the depths of his stomach like an erupting volcano.