The Fiend Prison was the Old Dragon.
It was of course sunless here.
It was as dark as ink and ten miles underground; but there was a faint glow up ahead.
The faint glow was on the other side of the Abyss, in the distant Underworld. It was unclear if it was the fire in the Underworld River, or the eruption of a volcano.
The Chaotic Wind ruffled the Underworld Emperor's clothes, making some rustling sounds.
The colorful clothes had already become black some time ago.
Though he was short, his aura was solemn and dignified, as if he were innately a king.
The Underworld Emperor looked at the Abyss quietly. His home was on the other side, where the rivers he played in as a child were and his loyal countrymen resided.
He looked at it with tremendous affection.
The affection was a sort of power.
This invisible force kept him away from the harm of the Chaotic Wind, and connected him firmly to the Underworld on the other side of the Abyss.
This invisible force turned the Underworld Emperor into an iron anchor, helping him stay in the same spot, like a boat being anchored in the middle of a violent ocean; the force also turned him into a silver nail to pin the tail of the Old Dragon to the deep end of the underground firmly.
After a long while, the tremors above the ground reached where he was, and the loose rocks on the surrounding cliff walls fell down in tandem.
The Underworld Emperor looked at the other side of the Abyss affectionately once more before he turned around to look at the gloomy and long passageway.
The Chaotic Wind became more violent, and the old man, who was formed by the spiritual soul of the Old Dragon arrived in front of the Underworld Emperor along with the wind.
The old man was covered with the blood, his cloth tattered, looking extremely terrible.
Looking at the Underworld Emperor, the old man had a peculiar expression. "You have actually come out for real!" he exclaimed.
"Yeah," the Underworld Emperor responded with a soft smile.
The old man clutched his still-bleeding forehead with his hand, remaining silent for a long moment.
Then, he laughed out suddenly, exclaiming, "So what? Do you really think you have a chance to escape from here?"
The Underworld Emperor said seriously, "If I can't get out of here, neither can you."
"You have been in my stomach for six hundred years and isolated from heaven and earth, and your Soul-Fire was sucked daily by the mosquitoes. Three years is too short for you to recover enough of your strength to fight me."
The old man said this icily while staring into his eyes.
The Underworld Emperor kept smiling. He appeared even more charming without eyebrows.
"You indeed have a high Cultivation state, and you can live much longer; and you can even form your spiritual soul into an entity. However, it would be difficult for you in the condition of the spiritual soul to kill me. Otherwise, you would have killed that young man a while ago; and you wouldn't have used such a violent and stupid method to pursue him. I believe I'm quite safe as long as I stay inside your body."
The old man sighed and said, "To think of it, I have indeed behaved stupidly. I have not only lost face, but also got injured. I probably have to eat a few hundred prisoners to recover. Yet…what can you achieve by doing so? You can't kill me no matter what you try. When they come here, you will be dead anyway."
As long as the Underworld Emperor stayed inside the body of the Old Dragon, he couldn't kill the Underworld Emperor; however, the Old Dragon could ask the swordsmen of the human race to enter his body to kill him.
Yet, no fear showed on the Underworld Emperor's face. He asked with the same smile, "Are you sure you can hold up until then?"
The old man failed to understand what he meant, wondering how he could kill a dragon in his current Cultivation state.
During their conversation, the Underworld Emperor kept both of his hands behind his back until now.
All of a sudden, countless tiny and seemingly feeble soul fires came out from the Underworld Emperor's body.
Looking closely at them, one would discover that these soul fires looked somewhat like the Underworld Emperor himself, excluding the eyebrows, and their bodies and flames were a bit dimmer.
Every soul fire looked like a tiny Underworld Emperor in black clothing.
Seeing this scene, the old man asked with a changed expression, "What do you intend to do?"
The Underworld Emperor didn't respond to the question. With the same small smile, he brought his right hand out from behind his back and waved forward softly, as if he were a general about to give the attacking command to the large army under his charge.
The countless soul fires turned into countless tiny Underworld emperors, and moved against the wind, heading toward the other end of the passageway, soon vanishing without a trace.
It didn't take long for those soul fires to come to the Fiend Prison, or every part of the Old Dragon's stomach.
Those parts had either the marks left by Jing Jiu's sword, or the fallen cliff rocks, all of which were the wounds caused by Jing Jiu's iron sword.
The poisonous pond water was rushing in to erode those wounds.
The tiny Underworld emperors climbed without hesitation into those wounds.
The sizzling sounds occurred everywhere in the Fiend Prison. The wounds lit by the soul fires gave out the dim glow, resembling the ghost flames in the graveyard.
The darkness was illuminated by these faint glows. The prisoners in the Fiend Prison woke up and crowded to the cell doors to look at the wild flames, their eyes showing the expected expression.
In the deepest end of the Fiend Prison, the Underworld Emperor looked at the old man quietly without uttering a single word.
Though the Underworld Emperor stood here, his Soul-Fire had already gone somewhere else and started the assault.
It was the true and the highest level of the Control of Soul-Fire.
The looks on the old man's face grew exceedingly pale as he felt extreme pain. "How dare you treat me like this?!" he exclaimed in a trembling voice.
The Underworld Emperor said, "One should repay the treatment they have received. It is merely an appropriate courtesy."
Jing Jiu had said something like this before.
This was the custom and the principle for the likes of Jing Jiu and the Underworld Emperor.
Back when the Underworld Emperor came to the human world to discuss true peace with the humans, he didn't expect that the humans would betray him shamelessly and locked him up in the Fiend Prison, just as he was about to sign the accord.
He had been locked away for six hundred years.
The patch of green valley was false, but the black prison was real.
Though he hadn't experienced the battles of daggers and swords during the six hundred years when he was here, he had to suffer even more painful experiences daily.
He had to suffer the pain of being bit by the mosquitoes and the guilty feeling for the Underworld.
The Underworld Emperor would end some of the pains he had suffered that day, and he at the same time would return some of them to the other party.
As far as the Old Dragon was concerned, Jing Jiu's Underworld Fairy Sword was like a mosquito.
And the Underworld Emperor's Control of Soul-Fire was a more formidable mosquito.
It took just a moment for the old man's face to turn as pale as the white snow, and the beads of sweat ran down like the rolling beans from his forehead.
Those tiny wounds had been painful and itchy, but they became even more unbearable when they were burned by the soul fires. Not even the Young Zen Master could stand it if he were here, let alone the Old Dragon.
The old man by now understood what the Underworld Emperor meant by saying: ""Are you sure you can hold up until then?"
The swordsmen of the human race would arrive in Zhaoge City soon.
The Old Dragon could let them get inside his stomach.
The Underworld Emperor would die without any doubt by then.
But could he stand the burning of countless soul fires until then?
"I think we should have a talk."
The old man said this while looking at the Underworld Emperor, the expression in his eyes very sincere.
The dusts had already settled; but the strong wind rose up again.
The powerful Center Sect employed all sorts of magic methods.
The cracks in the ground grew deeper, and the lake water flowed backwards.
The water level in the large hole had gradually lowered. They could see vaguely the dark figures in the deep part of the hole.
Yue Qianmen retrieved the magic method and rushed to the edge of the hole, sensing the weak energy of the divine dragon. Fortunately, his life force was still intact.
He looked at the scholar in blue cloth behind him and asked, "Has the House Master arrived yet?"
The scholar in blue cloth was a swordsman of the One-Cottage House; his family name was Xu. He, like Yue Qianmen, was a guest at the palace of Prince Jing Xin, or a master to be more precise.
After a moment of sensing around, the Scholar Xu said, "In seventeen breaths."
Upon hearing this, Yue Qianmen felt relieved.
It was because he knew that the Immortal Sect Master had already arrived.
The morning sun rose from the east, but it illuminated the west first. A beam of light appeared in the west; it was a bright spot, but not blindingly bright, forming a part of the sky.
Man hailed from heaven and earth, but they could merge into heaven and earth; this was the highest state of the Escape Method of Heaven and Earth.
It was the Center Sect Master, the Immortal Tan, who was at the bright spot.