My crazy Cultivation Path

CHAPTER 112

While our four members were at the bottom of the island.

At the top of the island, in the former abbey of Mont-Saint-Michel, now transformed into a prison.

Tony, Asti, and Simone were thrown into a cell located in the depths of the old abbey.

During their walk, they had also witnessed the atrocities taking place on the island.

But what surprised them the most was the depth of the prison. It was easy to understand that the Payo clan had dug this prison themselves.

In this place, daylight felt like a myth. Only a few torches illuminated the passage.

Tony caught sight of children with deformed faces, missing one or more limbs, imprisoned on the first levels of the prison.

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After about an hour of descent, the three guards held them back, opened a cell, and shoved them inside.

Watching the three guards leave, Asti—who had tried to stay silent—couldn’t help but speak about what he had seen.

Of all my thoughts, the strangest or most atrocious, I never would have believed I could feel such disgust for so many people at once.

Sighing, sitting down, Dina said:

What do you want to do? For now, let’s keep our calm and try to rest.

Her voice might have been calm, but Tony could still sense her rage. Even though he couldn’t see her, he understood that her face was overcome with fury, overflowing with anger.

Could you please be quiet?

Suddenly, a voice echoed right beside them.

Tony summoned an aether sword and pointed it toward the voice.

Whoa, an aether sword. It’s been a long time since I last summoned one.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Standing up, he walked toward Tony while whistling.

But you know, when you point a weapon at a stranger, it can be taken as a threat.

He said in a calm tone.

Laughing:

Sorry, but right now, I’m ultra paranoid. And a man stepping out of the darkness and starting to talk—I’m sure you’d find that strange too.

Tony declared.

The man stopped in his tracks and looked at Tony. Sighed.

You know, you all seem pretty optimistic. And I conclude that you’re going to try to escape.

Surprised, Tony began to distrust this man.

And, let’s say what you’re saying is true. What’s it to you?

Tony demanded, ready to attack at any suspicious move.

Placing his hand on his forehead, the man started to chuckle.

You know what, I like you. Let’s make a deal.

Suddenly, a voice of murderous coldness replied:

If you plan to ask us to become your slaves, or any request of the same kind as those I’ve seen outside, then we might as well start by taking your life.

Asti, who was standing next to Simone, froze a little, trembling at Simone’s tone.

Don’t worry, young lady. Even if I don’t consider myself a good man, I wouldn’t go as far as what they do out there. And let me tell you, if you think the sexual abuses they inflict on the slaves are the worst thing possible on this island, you’re truly naive: where you are now is far worse than their abuses. So drop that murderous impulse.

The man added.

Taking the man’s words into account, Asti proposed a deal:

We can tell you only one thing we know. But to settle this with us, prove your strength. And also, tell us your name.

Young man, the moment you entered, I assessed your strength from your gait, your presence. And now I’m sure: you’re the weakest of the three of you.

The man pointed out, needling Asti in the process.

Not knowing the man’s strength, Asti drew from the depths of himself to avoid being overwhelmed by him.

That may be true. But is that really the point of our discussion? … Listen, if you manage to put my comrade on the ground, the deal is yours. But you will respect my conditions. I sincerely think you’ll be the only loser if you don’t accept them.

Asti said in a tone so calm one might think he’d done this his whole life.

All the stress gnawing at him raised his body temperature.

Well, I don’t know where he learned that, but he pulled it out at the right moment.

Tony thought.

Very well. I accept—after all, putting him down will be easy enough.

The man said, cheerfully.

Lunging toward the man, Tony—who could see him thanks to the aether—tried to thrust to the right.

The man stayed still but tracked Tony with his eyes.

With a quick step, he grabbed Tony’s right wrist and locked it from any movement. He raised his left leg, which struck Tony’s chin like lightning.

Feeling his brain shake, his jaw snap, Tony pressed his attack. Then he felt a toe drive straight into his heart.

As pain overtook him, he searched for the man’s trace—he was no longer in front of him. The next instant, he felt a leg crash down on his abdomen, hurling him backward.

On the ground, Tony spat blood. Persistent pain in his stomach and head.

See, I told you you wouldn’t even lay a finger on me.

The man sneered. Approaching Asti, he gave a salute and said:

You can call me Kurdes.

With a smile on his lips.