“Behold, you vermin! Don’t think that because one prisoner escaped, you all now see a glimmer of hope. I tell you, such dreams are merely illusions of daylight!” shouted a jail warden, brandishing a long black whip imbued with thunderous power. With a crack, the whip struck several prisoners, tearing their flesh and sending them flying through the air, blood spilling from their wounds.
Here, there was no notion of human rights or freedom.
“That one-armed man cannot survive. Although he fled, there is no place on Demon Island for him to live—he must have already perished deep in the island!” The warden’s tone was vicious as he sternly warned the recently imprisoned captives, making it clear that anyone who dared to escape would be killed on the spot.
All the prisoners bore shackles forged from a special material, some of them once mighty Sovereigns. Yet once bound, they had no strength left to resist, reduced to helpless captives.
“I tell you all, even gods must behave themselves here, not dare to defy the rules,” the warden roared in menace.
He pointed toward the distance. “Behold that ancient mine? Within dwell dozens of beings who have ignited divine flames, and all of them now behave submissively. Because they know that any who challenge the rules will face only death!”
That ancient mine was unique, exuding auspicious mist and clearly rich with divine ore—one of the rarest and most valuable treasures. Yet its curse was greater still, requiring superlative The Strong One to mine it.
Beside that mine loomed a stone mountain, upon which six or seven corpses hung. Their bodies had been wind-swept for ages, yet still faintly emitted light—each one was a being who had ignited the divine flame. It was a terrifying deterrent, declaring that even gods had been slain here. This was the warning to all prisoners: defiance meant immediate death.
Shi Hao arrived with hundreds of others, calm and composed. They were not criminals, hence immune from punishment; they were mere witnesses to this grim demonstration.
“Grandfather broke free from his shackles and escaped successfully… but is he still on the island?” Shi Hao pondered silently, his heart full of concern, for this island was perilous indeed.
“Please, this way,” said a guide tasked with leading Shi Hao and the other outsiders along a path into the mining region.
Many ancient mines surrounded them, some of which had been excavated for tens of thousands of years and still remained operational. Large pits riddled the land, each marked by a number.
Some mines were extraordinary. Even from afar, radiant light could be seen rising from within. These mines held treasures of incredible value, but they were inaccessible to the general public. Only divine-level prisoners were sent to extract their riches.
Whatever was unearthed by those prisoners had to be surrendered.
The outside world was permitted access only because Black Prison, under pressure from various sects, had reluctantly opened part of the island for visitation. Another reason was that these mines were extremely hazardous to excavate—only true experts could endure the trials beneath the surface.
Shi Hao had not come to mine for treasure. His purpose was to seek any trace of his grandfather.
Yet as he drew nearer, he could not help but feel astonished. Something of extraordinary value lay hidden beneath. He even witnessed someone unearth a massive block of divine ore.
It was a strange crystal, crystalline and transparent, within which a sliver of thunder was sealed—an intense flash of lightning frozen in place, not escaping.
“A divine spark of thunder! This will surely stir those above!” the jail warden exclaimed joyfully. He ordered it sealed carefully within a treasure chest.
Demon Island was controlled jointly by several superpowers, with the strongest being the Immortal Mountain, whose influence reigned supreme.
Half the island’s resources, in fact, belonged to the Qin Clan.
Such a crystal, if offered as tribute, would undoubtedly earn favor and reward from above. For those cultivating thunder, it would be an invaluable treasure.
Shi Hao’s heart stirred as he gazed at the lightning. Faint glyphic inscriptions seemed concealed within it.
“I’ll stay for a while then, seeking my grandfather’s trail while testing my luck,” he mused silently.
Over the next half month, Shi Hao entered deep into ancient mines, working side by side with miners. Only then did he understand why this island was so terrifying.
Once descending deep underground, curses took hold. Returning to the surface required twice the time to purify oneself, with the strength of the curse proportional to one’s cultivation level.
Legend told of even great masters who came here—cursed so severely it could provoke Heaven’s lamentation, causing thunder and tears of blood.
There was a terrifying legend of a master once perishing here.
Thus, few cultivators of such a high rank dared to appear, for fear of unpredictable consequences.
“These ores are harder than metals,” Shi Hao muttered to himself. Below the surface, ores could not be broken without reaching the King-level at the very least. Even Sovereigns would find it arduous.
No wonder they kept the powerful prisoners alive. Only they possessed the strength to extract such resources.
The chains were specially designed to limit their power—preventing them from attacking wardens or soldiers—but allowing them still to mine deep underground.
During this time, Shi Hao entered and departed multiple ancient mines, deliberately mingling with guards and prisoners, gathering many secrets.
“Did you hear? That warden tried to strangle the one-armed man to death, but nearly got killed himself—even with shackles on, that one-armed man nearly turned the tables!”
This seemingly trivial piece of gossip made Shi Hao’s heart clench, his eyebrows twitching, almost unleashing a surge of killing intent.
Someone had tried to strangle his grandfather to death. The fury boiled inside him. The Fifteenth Elder had nearly perished here in such a cruel manner!
He looked ahead. That jail warden had graying hair and stood in the Sovereign realm, wielding a whip that exuded dark sheen as he viciously lashed at prisoners.
His cheekbones were high, his lips thin, and his eyes like a serpent’s—altogether, a cruel man. The slightest sluggishness from any prisoner invited brutal punishment.
His name was Qin Cheng Shang. He appeared to be in his fifties or sixties, although no one truly knew his age.
“What did my grandfather ever do to you, that you’d try to strangle him to death!” Shi Hao clenched his fists in silent fury.
There was no need to imagine how Fifteen Elder, with his defiant spirit, must have suffered under such torment—only to eventually erupt violently.
“Also, those others are from the Qin Clan too. They’ve targeted that one-armed man again and again, seeking any excuse to kill him,” the jailor continued.
He gestured forward. A few more figures arrived at the mine, wielding glowing whips that struck the prisoners without mercy.
“Why?” someone asked, puzzled. The newcomers were miners, curious by nature, having already grown bored during their short stay here.
Daily facing rock harder than metal in the pitch-dark underground was suffocatingly dull. Such gossip was enough to stir intrigue.
There was no need for Shi Hao to probe himself; others’ curiosity had done the work for him.
“They say that one-armed man once possessed a divine pill. Before it could be discovered, he secretly fed it to a young girl. That enraged many from the Qin Clan, so they sentenced him here with other prisoners,” the jailor whispered. Being from another great power and holding no love for the Qin Clan’s people, he dared to speak openly.
Shi Hao remained silent.
Back in the lower realms, he had already heard that when his grandfather escaped from the Forbidden Lands of the Black Forest, he had not only retrieved divine artifacts but also obtained a divine pill of even greater value.
Full of joy, the old man returned to Stone State to deliver the rare pill to his grandson—only to find him gone.
Now, all this time later, Fifteen Elder still carried it. The warmth in Shi Hao’s heart mingled with sorrow. His grandfather had lost an arm, and if he had taken the pill, his limb could have regenerated—but he had refused, reserving it for his grandson all along.
“Also, it is said that Qin Cheng Shang has a gifted grandson, one of the Qin Clan’s most renowned prodigies—Qin Mu. He was the one who discovered the pill initially.”
No need for further explanation—Qin Cheng Shang bore a deep grudge because had his grandson taken that pill, his foundation would be consolidated, propelling his cultivation rapidly.
“How despicable of the Qin Clan! When they failed to claim another’s divine pill, they condemned him to imprisonment here. And on top of that, Qin Cheng Shang seeks vengeance—trying to strangle that one-armed man to death! It’s outrageous!”
All the miners shook their heads in sympathy.
As for Shi Hao, he clenched his fury, forcing calm while his gaze darkened, looking toward Qin Cheng Shang and his men.
“Did A’ man swallow the pill? Where is she now?” Shi Hao whispered to himself.
“The one-armed man is the only one in a hundred years to escape successfully. How did he do it?” someone finally asked.
“He unearthed something wondrous. When he unearthed it, radiant light filled the entire ancient mine underground. And like lightning, the one-armed man took decisive action—swallowed it whole,” said the jailor, part admiration and part regret.
“What could it have been?” they all asked.
“No one knows, but after consuming it, his entire body radiated light, the shackles snapped instantly. He rose in rebellion, striking Qin Cheng Shang so hard he nearly died. Then he broke free.”
Fifteen Elder, in his rampage, slew dozens of Qin Clan cultivators, escaping the mining zone and vanishing into the forbidden regions deep within the island, never to be seen again.
“And what of the girl who ate the divine pill? Was she brought to Demon Island?”
“No, she remained at the Immortal Mountain.”
And so, Shi Hao finally learned the truth—his grandfather had escaped, and A’ man was safe. A fire ignited in his heart, burning fiercely.
He had thought of leaving soon, moving to the other half of the island—the true forbidden region of Demon Island. But now he hesitated. Rushing in too abruptly would draw suspicion.
Ever since learning the underground might hold hidden treasures, Shi Hao had devised a scheme. He had repeatedly used his Twin-Heaven Eyes, pushing his glyphic power to the limit, scouring the depths.
“Strange! There really is a hidden treasure below?!” A few days later, deep inside an abandoned ancient mine, Shi Hao activated his Twin-Heaven Eyes again and discovered an extraordinary omen.
Deep within the stone layers of the abandoned mine, a radiance brighter than sunlight surged forth, nearly blinding his Twin-Heaven Eyes.
“What is that?!” Shi Hao was deeply startled.
He realized he had uncovered a rare, celestial treasure, something truly extraordinary. If unearthed, it might shake heaven and earth itself.
At once, he awakened the Demon-Smiting Stone, and together they devised plans to claim it.
“We need a plan. If necessary, let’s make a bold move—break open the Black Prison, and free all the captives imprisoned here by the Immortal Mountain!” Shi Hao murmured thoughtfully.
He had learned that Black Prison held countless prisoners, many of whom had once opposed the Immortal Mountain. If freed, they would create a hurricane across the island.
Legend even said that ancient divine beings lay imprisoned there!
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