Chapter Thirty-Two: A Dire Situation (Part One)-Arch Nemesis: Revolution(Li Beiyu)

The freed prisoners seized the weapons of the wardens; some clever ones followed Wei Wuji and his companion as they rushed toward the next level, while others, reckless and unaware of the danger, attempted to escape, only to collide directly with the guards descending the stone steps. Immediately, blood flowed from the entrance stairway, staining the floor of the first level and seeping into the stone walls.

Although Wei Wuji and his companion moved swiftly, the chaos on the first level alerted the wardens on the second, who promptly shut the iron gate to their floor. The insurgents and the wardens stood facing each other across the thick iron bars, swords and blades striking the metal, sending sparks flying but leaving only white marks behind. Thus, the rescue operation, which had gone smoothly at first, encountered its first real obstacle.

The sounds of conflict above grew ever weaker, indicating that the prisoners attempting to break out had little time left before being suppressed. The dozens who followed Wei Wuji began to panic, caught between pursuers behind and obstacles ahead. Though they had not yet realized that even if the gate were opened and they reached the lowest level, there would still be no way out. Still, instinct drove them to flee downward, only to resist again when they reached a dead end.

Wei Wuji cared little for the lives of those around him. His sect, the Nine Dragons School, was a branch of the Celestial Daoist Order of the Hua Nation. The Daoist arts encompassed myriad methods and philosophies, each with its own core. The Supreme branch followed the principle, "Heaven and earth are impartial, treating all things as straw dogs." The Nine Dragons School, to which Wei Wuji belonged, pursued the ideal of "Riding the winds, the spirit wandering the eight directions." The Explanatory branch, meanwhile, centered on the belief, "The way of heaven diminishes excess to supply the lacking." Yet within the Daoist Order, the concept of fate was paramount; anything that touched their hearts—people, events, objects, emotions—was regarded as a matter of fate, a knot to be untied lest it disturb their inner clarity.

For Wei Wuji, due to Amonge, Cecily was part of this fated entanglement, but the crowd of prisoners was not. Wei Wuji frowned and prepared to use the Xuan Tian Black Gold Slash to break through the iron gate, but someone preempted him. The special agent sent by the Revolutionary Group strode forward, took a deep breath, and grabbed the iron gate, lifting it upward with force. The gate was firmly set between the ceiling and the stone floor below, with little room, but under his effort, there was a perceptible loosening and dust rained down from above.

The wardens on the other side, initially watching with amusement, were startled by his actions. The lead warden captain shouted, "Stop him, quickly!"

But they were too late. The agent let out a long cry, shaking everyone's ears, making both wardens and prisoners clutch their heads in pain; even the soldiers above, in pursuit of prisoners, paused. Gripping the bars tightly, the agent gave them a powerful twist, and the iron bars, astonishingly, twisted like braided dough.

The wardens, frightened, rushed forward, covering their ears, never expecting such superhuman strength among the rioters. The agent ignored them, focusing on twisting the bars further. Wei Wuji unleashed a flurry of sword light, forcing the wardens back and preventing interference.

With a final wrench, the bars were broken. The agent split them apart, and the entrance to the second level now gaped like a battered spider’s web, allowing the prisoners to surge through after Wei Wuji and his companion.

The sound of weapons falling echoed throughout; such overwhelming strength shattered the morale of the wardens who had tried to stop them, and they collapsed, begging for mercy. For a moment, the cries of fathers and calls for mothers filled the air. The prisoners, seeing their once-dominant wardens reduced to this state, cast admiring glances at the agent. One bold prisoner asked, "Are you and your companion emissaries sent by the Lord of Light?"

"Of course not. The Lord of Light cannot save you, but Commineson can," the agent replied with a smile. "Go and release everyone on this level. If there is a young lady named Cecily among them, bring her to us."

With a cheer, the prisoners snatched the keys from the wardens and hurried to liberate the second level. One exclaimed joyfully, "So you are heroes of the Commineson Revolutionary Group! Wonderful, I’ve heard you always help the poor. Long live Commineson!"

"Long live Commineson!"

Whether freeing others or just freed themselves, the prisoners shouted in unison. Perhaps few truly understood the Commineson Revolutionary Group, but at that moment, their cries came from the heart.

The only regret was that Cecily, whom Wei Wuji sought, was not among the rescued. He turned his gaze to the stone stairway leading to the third level—the last hope. Surely Cecily must be below.

The third level’s defenses were tighter; no iron bars, but a solid iron door twenty centimeters thick. Yet even this could not withstand the rioters. Under Wei Wuji’s Xuan Tian Black Gold Slash and the agent’s supernatural strength, the door was breached.

"What technique did you use?" Wei Wuji finally could not restrain his curiosity.

"Me?" The agent paused, then quickly grasped Wei Wuji’s meaning in the common language of the continent. "What I used, explained formally in the common tongue, is the Wisdom Art of the Dragon and Elephant. It’s said that when mastered, it grants the strength of ten earth dragons and ten woolly elephants. In your Far Eastern terms, it’s called the Dragon-Elephant Prajna Technique."

"Dragon-Elephant Prajna Technique?" Wei Wuji’s expression grew strange. He had heard of this art; it was said to be a legacy of the founders of the Peacock Dynasty’s so-called Awakened, but it had long been lost. He never expected to witness it here.

The crowd surged into the third level. The soldiers above had already slaughtered all prisoners who dared resist and were searching the second level for their traces.

The third level was empty; at a glance, not a soul was present.

"Where are the prisoners?" Wei Wuji seized a warden, trembling in fear, and asked.

"This—this is for capital offenders. No one has been here recently," the warden stammered.

"The woman you just captured, named Cecily, isn’t here?"

"No, never—a woman named Cecily has never been held here," the warden’s words stunned Wei Wuji. Even the usually unhurried agent was taken aback, falling into thought.

The warden continued, "I swear, there’s really no such female prisoner. A few days ago, a woman was brought in and held here, but after interrogation by Lord Hendry, it was discovered she was just a lookalike, not the wanted woman. That unfortunate girl is probably serving Lord Hendry in his bed right now."

Wei Wuji’s mouth hung open, and the agent shook his head lightly. So the person they risked everything to rescue was a fake.

Just then, Wei Wuji sensed danger. An enormous arrow shot forth, faster than sound, piercing the Arctic True Water Talisman’s defense. Fortunately, it slowed the arrow enough for Wei Wuji to dodge; otherwise, even he could not withstand such an attack.

Next, a cold spear swept in from the entrance to the third level. The weapon seemed forged in the icy hells; its arrival sent the temperature in the third level plummeting.