The prison of the Phoenix Cry sect was three thousand meters underground, in a maze of damp, dark tunnels. Only the disciples of the Heroic Pill Hall who violated the sect’s strict rules were condemned to this inhospitable place. It was a true dungeon, where they were forced to reflect on their transgressions, submerged in oppressive silence.
The prison environment was always chaotic; rival factions often clashed, and tension hung in the air like a storm about to break. Rarely did a day go by without someone making a slip, leading to capture and subsequent punishment. Sentences varied drastically, lasting anywhere from days to years, depending more on the disciple’s importance to their faction than on the severity of their actions.
Two Elders from the radical faction walked side by side down the dark, narrow corridor. As they descended toward the prison, one of them scoffed, "That hillbilly idiot? He’s definitely been thrown in the delinquent room. He’ll be nearly dead by the time we get there. It’ll be a headache to get him out like this."
The other Elder smiled coldly, a malicious spark shining in his eyes. "If Raoni shows even a hint of not being as useful as the High Elder claims, I’ll kill him myself. All bets are on him; we’re already in a complicated situation that will only get worse if he doesn’t deliver."
They moved to the end of the corridor, where a massive iron door awaited them. It was the entrance to the delinquent room, a place reserved for disciples who had become excessively violent.
The offenders were thrown into that prison, segregated according to their infractions. Those who succumbed to berserk rage were grouped together, allowing them to attack each other in a frenzy of violence.
However, upon reaching the door, the expected sounds of shouting and cursing were replaced by an unsettling silence. The lack of sound was almost supernatural.
"What’s going on? Did they kill each other?" one of the Elders expressed surprise, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.
With a hesitant gesture, he pulled a heavy key from his pocket and began to unlock the door. The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed in the dimness, followed by a faint noise from inside, breaking the tense silence like glass about to shatter.
"This… can’t be true," one of the Elders murmured, sensing something strange.
"Young Master, is it good enough?" a nervous voice sounded from within, filled with fear.
*Slap!*
A slap resonated, followed by a sinister voice: "You’re not putting in enough effort! Put in more strength!"
"Yes! This humble servant will do better!" the voice replied, trembling with fear.
The iron door slowly opened, releasing a heavy smell of blood. When the two Elders finally saw what was happening in the delinquent room, their gazes were fixed in a mix of shock and disbelief.
More than ten men were beaten and pinned to the walls, with shoulders and thighs pierced. The weapons used for the piercings? They were the prisoners’ own bones. The creativity in suffering seemed limitless.
The prisoners were terrified, their mouths stuffed with their own shoes, and they dared not make a sound. Upon seeing the Elders, expressions of relief spread across their faces, tears streaming as if saviors had finally arrived.
’What the hell is going on? Did they imprison these people with a torturing demon?’ both Elders thought simultaneously.
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In the center of the room, four people were kneeling, holding a wooden bed on their shoulders.
On the bed, an individual lay back lazily, being served with almost religious attention. Two attendants were massaging his feet, while two others delicately attended to his shoulders. One was combing his hair, while another meticulously groomed his nails with the precision of royal eunuchs.
*Slap!*
Suddenly, a slap struck one of the attendants’ faces. The reason? He had broken a strand of hair while combing it, an unforgivable mistake in that ritual.
Beside him, two people fanned him with their fans, moving almost anxiously, as if each motion could determine a fate worse than death. The atmosphere was suffocating, as if the very cruelest Demon were enjoying training those unfortunate souls.
The two Elders exchanged glances, both seeing the shock on each other’s faces. "R-Raoni?" one of them murmured, astonished.
"Yes?"
The young master was so absorbed in his amusement that it took him a moment to realize someone was calling him. He slowly opened his eyes and saw the new figures entering the room.
"Who are you?" The Torturing Demon sat up, and his servants immediately froze, motionless as statues, too terrified to even breathe.
"The High Elder sent us. We came to get you out of here."
"Haha, I can leave? Amazing… hey, idiot! What are you waiting for? Hurry up and put on my shoes!" Raoni spat angrily, slapping one of the servants in the face.
Only then did the servants react. With almost exaggerated agility, they carefully slipped Raoni’s shoes on, as if the one being freed from prison was themselves, not him.
One of the Elders watched the scene, noticing something peculiar. But he chose to remain silent, feeling that this young man was anything but ordinary.
*Slap!*
Raoni slapped one of the servants in the face, shouting impatiently, "I’m leaving! This is good news, so why are you crying?"
"W-We don’t want to be separated from the Young Master!" The servant had tears streaming down his face, looking like he was finally freed from that Tormenting Demon; he was so emotional that he couldn’t hold back the tears. He could barely come up with a pathetic excuse.
Raoni nodded, pretending to be equally touched. "Not bad, you weren’t trained for nothing. Looks like I still have a lot to teach you... maybe I should stay here a few more days before leaving."
"No! Young Master, this place is dirty and foul, completely unworthy of your grand existence. We don’t deserve it! Your time is too precious, and others should benefit from your immense kindness!" All the servants knelt on the ground, desperately pleading.
When Alm and Bruno were sent to the delinquent room and caused all this, it was because they knew one fundamental rule: if they wanted to stand out, they needed to create as much chaos as possible. The more confusion they generated, the more noticed and valued they would be.
The outcome was clear — those sent to the prison to beat him ended up in a miserable situation, reduced to disoriented sheep, led to "salvation," though this salvation came with blood and suffering.
As he left the prison and felt the fresh air, Raoni took a deep breath. "Thank you so much, I’ll remember this favor. If any of you need anything, just ask, and I’ll do my best," he said to the two Elders who accompanied him.
Although he knew they had come just to put him in their debt, he recognized that sometimes playing by the rules was inevitable. Faking gratitude was, at the very least, a necessary formality.
"You don’t have to be so formal. We’re all on the same side." One of the Elders flashed a slight smile. "It’s natural for us to help each other. Keep showing your power, like you did in the entrance test. The High Elder never appreciated your reserved nature, but he has been watching you in secret. Your performance today pleased him greatly. We didn’t just come to free you; we want to make it clear that you’re already seen as someone of great value in the core of the faction. Don’t doubt it: within the sect, there’s nothing we can’t resolve. Even if you cause a calamity, we can handle it. So go ahead and do whatever it takes to prove your worth."
Raoni listened attentively, then nodded as if he understood something. The Elder sighed and continued:
"In our faction, there are two types of people who are most useful: those with great alchemical skills and those who know how to cause trouble. We already have plenty of alchemists, but we lack geniuses in chaos. I hope you understand what I mean. We’re very busy; goodbye."
With those words, the two Elders bid farewell, leaving Raoni alone, lost in thought.
"Interesting," Alm and Bruno said in unison. That old sly fox still didn’t fully trust them and kept testing them.
Was it really just about causing trouble? Turns out that was their specialty. But wasn’t that a bit too much? They could do anything within the sect, even create a calamity? What if the calamity was freeing the Phoenix from its seal?
They chuckled grimly, already planning the next step.
When they returned to the neutral disciples’ group, Celilia and over ten thousand others were waiting, visibly nervous.
Alm and Bruno observed the disciples in silence, their gazes analytical. About 70% of them were human, and 10% were beast races; all genders were distributed fairly evenly. The rest were exclusively female elves, all possessing enchanting beauty, as if their looks had been a decisive factor in their selection.
However, they wouldn’t have made it this far with beauty alone. These elves also had talent and determination far above average. Unfortunately, the number of those who never had a chance because they weren’t attractive enough to get a good master must have been a hundred times greater.
"First of all," Bruno began, his voice firm. "You’re forbidden from mentioning that I came back and talked to you. When Alci took me, that was the last time you saw me. Got it?"
Confused, the disciples nodded. Bruno continued: "Celilia, you’ll be in charge of everyone. The heavier burden will be yours. Are you ready?"
"Yes!"
She replied immediately, without hesitation. She looked deeply into his eyes, sensing his fluctuations; she was really acting like this was her chance in life. This made Bruno satisfied but confused by her resolve.
Then he directly transferred to her mind a dozen fire techniques he had recently acquired, along with some incomplete Daos he still remembered. After that, Bruno moved everyone in the group, isolating them within several nearby mountains.
With everyone ready, they used the supreme training method created in conjunction with the Tree of Chaos: the Chaotic Enlightenment. (Chapter 610)
"You must lead them, and since you know them individually, you should distribute the techniques according to their needs. Everyone must train tirelessly in the dream world until the moment they depart for that legendary world." Bruno instructed Celilia after explaining the almost magical workings of the training method.
She was completely stunned, trying to process the enormity of what she had learned and heard. Was this really possible? This method seemed absurdly fantastical, she thought.
"This will be your test. The exam will be in the world of the Nine Red Lotuses. Don’t disappoint me." Bruno concluded, not caring; the results would speak for themselves.
It took him just a few minutes to get everything ready, and he left as quickly as possible. Bruno did everything while Alm focused on using his divine soul to sense the surroundings, ensuring that no one saw them with that neutral group.
They couldn’t make it clear that they were connected with them and acted as safely as possible. They moved alone across that continent. Then, to cover up that contact, he moved closer to the enemy faction innocently.