The dungeon hidden deep underground was extremely dark and gloomy.
Even breathing felt heavy, requiring more effort.
If an ordinary person were imprisoned here,
it would undoubtedly be a slow death.
But for a Soul Saint, this harsh environment was merely the most trivial problem they had to face.
Following Xiao Dading, turning left and right,
Ye Tian quickly grasped the specific layout of the cells where these Soul Saints were held.
They were all individual cells,
and outside each cell was an independent monitoring room.
Each Soul Saint was supervised by a Soul Emperor.
Moreover, the methods of confinement for these Soul Saints varied.
Some had their hands nailed and legs bound, pinned to the wall. Others were locked by the neck, nailed to a cross-shaped torture rack. Or five iron chains separately bound their limbs and neck.
There were no shouts or curses like in the previous two levels,
only dead silence and heavy, ragged breathing.
Along the way,
Ye Tian also noticed that many prisoners wore attire that, in the outside Soul Master Realm, was considered extremely splendid and a symbol of status.
There were those from the Clear Sky School,
and even the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan!
The Soul Masters from the Blue Lightning Tyrant Dragon Clan looked as though they had been in this dungeon for many years.
A look of understanding flashed in Ye Tian's eyes.
It seemed the Spirit Hall was indeed not the pure, innocent entity that commoners and many civilian Soul Masters perceived it to be. Behind the scenes, it employed every necessary means.
Even though he noticed the peculiar look in Ye Tian's eyes, Xiao Dading offered no explanation.
As the Holy Son of the Spirit Hall,
he should understand the power struggles among the major factions even better than Xiao Dading did.
In this dungeon, there were fallen ones, and naturally, there were also those whom the Spirit Hall regarded as dissidents. Some of them had even been declared dead by their friends and family, with cenotaphs erected in their memory. Unless something unexpected happened, they would spend the rest of their lives in this dungeon!
"Your Highness, we have arrived. He is in this cell!"
Half a quarter of an hour later.
As Xiao Dading's voice rang out,
Ye Tian finally reached the destination of his journey and laid eyes on his target... Yang Wushuang, the younger brother of Po Clan leader Yang Wudi and the clan's second-in-command!
Through the iron bars,
what appeared in Ye Tian's line of sight was a man with disheveled hair, his head bowed low.
Ye Tian could not see his face, only that his collarbones were pierced by black Soul-calming Spikes. Iron chains connected to the spikes wound around his arms, linked to the spikes that pierced his palms, and extended further to connect to the ceiling.
The Po Clan was a typical supporter of the Extreme Style. Without their hands gripping their long spears, they were like birds without wings, reduced to mere prey.
To restrain him,
only four Soul-calming Spikes and two bloodstained iron chains were used.
While Ye Tian was observing Yang Wushuang,
Xiao Dading had already knocked on the iron window, calling over the Soul Emperor on duty. After effective communication, the Soul Emperor bowed to Ye Tian and hurriedly retreated.
"Your Highness, everything has been arranged!"
Xiao Dading bent down, smiling as he opened the iron door for Ye Tian.
"You can speak with Yang Wushuang just by sitting in the monitoring room here. The prisoners here are fed drugs that suppress their Soul Power daily. As long as Your Highness doesn't get too close and guards against any poison he might have hidden, there will be no risk."
"Mm, I understand."
Ye Tian nodded,
then strolled into the monitoring room, which had two stone walls and two iron grates.
Without needing further instruction, Xiao Dading stepped back on his own.
"Your Highness, take your time. If anything comes up, just light the white candle outside the door and call for me."
"Alright."
Ye Tian gave a slight nod and glanced around the iron cell.
It contained only a simple bed, a table, and two stools.
On the table sat a pot of tea with a complete set of cups.
When Ye Tian sat at the table facing Yang Wushuang, the disheveled Yang Wushuang visibly stirred, the iron chains clanking loudly.
Yang Wushuang stood in the cell, the length of the chains just enough to prevent him from leaning against the wall or falling forward. Even a small movement like lifting his head caused him immense pain!
In less than two days, it felt as if an entire year had passed!
Xiao Dading and the others had not bothered to lower their voices,
so Yang Wushuang naturally knew that the visitor held a position of considerable importance within the Spirit Hall.
Titles like "Your Highness" seemed reserved only for the Saintess of the Spirit Hall and the princes of various empires, kingdoms, and duchies across the continent.
Ye Tian sat calmly at the table, pouring himself a cup of hot tea. With a slight glance, he said plainly, "Yang Wushuang, may we talk?"
"..."
The cell remained silent.
But as Ye Tian stayed longer, the Medicinal Aroma emanating from him slowly filled the cell.
When Yang Wushuang caught the scent of that Pill,
he felt a cool sensation spreading through his body, easing the pain of his wounds. Even his dull, lifeless eyes flickered with a faint glimmer of light.
Moreover... the effects of the Soul Power-suppressing drugs mixed into his food by the Spirit Hall were gradually diminishing!
Yang Wushuang couldn't help but feel astonished.
He secretly took a few deep breaths.
His surprise deepened.
Having immersed himself in Alchemy since childhood, he was highly sensitive to various Medicinal Aromas. Yet, the scent emanating from the young man before him was something he had never encountered before—he couldn't identify a single component within it.
Driven by curiosity,
Yang Wushuang finally lifted his head slightly. His bloodshot eyes were hidden beneath his disheveled black hair.
Even so,
with Ye Tian's keen eyesight, he could clearly see the astonishment in those eyes!
Yang Wushuang was surprised by Ye Tian's youth.
He was even more astonished that the Medicinal Aroma didn't seem to come from any drug but rather from the extraordinary young man before him.
He appeared casual and unrestrained, yet it felt natural.
The faint wisps of white mist—Yang Wushuang certainly didn't mistake them for Soul Power fluctuations. Instead, they resembled the aura of a Martial Soul...
"Does the senior have something to say?"
Ye Tian took a small sip from his cup, looking at Yang Wushuang with a relaxed demeanor.
Staring at Ye Tian,
Yang Wushuang breathed in the faint fragrance in the air, easing the pain of his wounds, and finally spoke.
His voice was hoarse to the extreme...
as if a fishbone were stuck in his throat, grating and unpleasant.
"I recall the Saintess of Spirit Hall is that woman Bi Bi Dong, right? When did you get a Holy Son who's still a mere child? Could it be that after Qian Xunji died, Spirit Hall ran out of people? Hah!"
As he spoke, Yang Wushuang couldn't help but bare his blood-stained teeth and sneer mockingly.
"Heh."
Ye Tian wasn't angered; instead, he found it amusing.
"I thought I'd have to demonstrate my Pill Refining Art first to get you to speak, Senior. It seems I overestimated the effort needed."