Chapter Fifty-Four: The Prison

"This Golden Spirit Sword is truly a weapon of the immortals—its power far surpasses my Wolf Fang Blade by more than a grade. What a pity that I practice the blade, not the sword," Feng Xionglong mused as he hefted Ye Mo's Golden Spirit Sword and brought it crashing down onto a spiritwood shield, splitting it in two with ease. He could not help but exclaim in admiration, but after a moment's appreciation, his heart filled with regret.

Every warrior, after all, had their own preferred weapon and skillset. The sword was the most common, as with Ye Mo, Gao Jian, and many others; some favored the blade, the spear, or the dagger. Feng Xionglong, for his part, excelled with the blade.

Each weapon had its unique properties, suited to the warrior's talents and preferences. Many martial techniques could only be fully realized with the proper weapon; using another would inevitably diminish their power.

As Feng Xionglong sifted through the pile of provisions and water, his eyes caught sight of two spiritwood boxes tucked among the goods. With curiosity, he opened one in front of the others.

With a snap, a blue, crystalline orb of light lay serenely in the box, its surface flickering with strange and arcane runes. This sight drew gasps from the surrounding pirates; even the most unsophisticated commoner could tell at a glance that this was no ordinary thing.

"This—!"

"Is that a rune imprint for a water-element spell?"

"If it is, I've struck gold! I could sell this orb to the merchants in Immortal Village and exchange it for precious Essence Pills—perhaps even become a cultivator myself! Too bad I haven't formed a Nascent Soul yet, so I can't use this rune imprint," Feng Xionglong murmured in shock.

"Is this a treasure of the immortals?" the alluring woman beside him exclaimed, her eyes wide in awe—she had never seen anything like it before.

The pirates all wore expressions of greed.

Feng Xionglong toyed with the orb for a while before reluctantly closing the spiritwood box. Lifting his head, he remembered Ye Mo and the others had yet to be dealt with.

"Captain, though these people are few and not our match, locking them all in one room might invite trouble," the yellow-toothed elder whispered in Feng Xionglong's ear, his gaze ever roaming over Ye Mo and the other warriors. "In my humble opinion, we should scatter them into different cells. That way, they won't unite and resist!"

"Ah Mei, these prisoners are yours. Separate them and lock each in a different slave cell. Once that's done, return to my quarters; we'll take a good look at these treasures together," Feng Xionglong ordered, his eyes glinting as he nodded toward the alluring woman at his side.

"Yes, Captain!" she replied with a sugary smile.

Under her arrangements, Ye Mo, Gao Jian, and some two or three dozen warriors were split up and escorted to the ship's lowest deck, each locked away in a separate cell.

With no command from Ye Mo, Gao Jian, and the other warriors could only endure in silence.

...

The pitch-black passageways of the ship's hold were lit only by a dim oil lamp every thirty feet, each casting a feeble glow over a small patch of darkness. The footsteps of the warriors broke the oppressive silence of the hold.

Once below deck, Ye Mo glanced around and discovered that all the rooms had been converted into cells, separated by thick spiritwood bars. In each cell, a dozen or more unarmed captives were confined.

"So many warriors—hundreds of them! This scar-faced captain has captured an army of slaves," Ye Mo thought in astonishment.

The expressions within the cells varied: some captives looked lost and despairing, resigned to their fate; others wore fierce, defiant looks, clearly unwilling to accept their lot and ready to seize any opportunity to escape.

Soon, Ye Mo was brought before a cell housing seven others.

"Get in there and behave! Keep your head down, and you might live to dig in the mines at Immortal Village. Cause trouble, and you'll end up fish food!" two pirates in the third stage of Body Refinement barked, shoving Ye Mo roughly inside.

Before Ye Mo could take stock of his cellmates, he was pushed inside and the pirates locked the door with chains as thick as an arm. They cast him a mocking glance before striding off to the deck for drink and gambling.

The seven in the cell looked on with some surprise. This pirate slaver ship had been sailing for quite some time—how had another newcomer arrived? Still, another captive was nothing special; he was destined for the mines like the rest of them.

They spared Ye Mo barely a glance before turning back to their own affairs.

Dressed in tattered cloth, Ye Mo looked every bit the commoner, not much older than eighteen or nineteen—perhaps even less impressive than the rest of them. Such a young and ordinary fellow drew no interest at all.

"A tiger brought low is bullied by dogs," Ye Mo mused bitterly. "When I use my last Essence Pill to break through and form my Nascent Soul, stepping into the path of cultivation, I'll make these pirates pay dearly."

He found the pirates' insults both infuriating and amusing. Without his Golden Spirit Sword, his strength was insufficient to defeat the pirates head-on; for now, he had no choice but to endure.

As he collected himself, he felt the cold, indifferent gazes of the others in the cell—but he paid them little mind. Strangers all, it was expected they would be aloof.

"What kind of wood is this cell made of?" Ye Mo wondered. He soon discovered that the wood was incredibly hard. Gripping a bar, he pulled with all his might, but the bar did not so much as tremble.

"Don't waste your effort, little brother," a portly man in rich clothes called out from the cleanest corner, his voice full of derision. "These cells are built with spiritwood! Do you know what that is?"

"Clearly a country bumpkin, clueless about anything. Spiritwood comes from the Eastern Sea Spirit Isles; immortals use it for their buildings. It's hard as stone—unless you've the strength of a thousand pounds, you won't break it."

"A warrior at the ninth stage of Body Refinement has barely three hundred pounds of force in each arm! With spiritwood for a cell, you can bet it's escape-proof. A scrawny lad like you wouldn't make a dent even with a blade!"

"Don't scoff! I'm Zhao Dafu—back in my county town, I'm known for my knowledge."

"Don't tease the newcomer, Brother Zhao," interrupted a curvy, comely woman of about twenty, her tone teasing despite her words. "He's new to this pirate ship; no need to make fun of him just because you've seen more of the world."

Ye Mo glanced at them without replying. The woman was attractive enough, but compared to Princess Mo Ling or Huang Yi, she was merely a charming girl next door.

Seeing Ye Mo's indifference, the woman frowned slightly. She took pride in her looks, yet this unremarkable youth didn't so much as glance at her after she spoke—a slight she found hard to accept.

"Mingyan, are you unwell? Didn't sleep well last night?" asked a young man dressed as a scholar, noticing the displeasure flicker across her brow.

The woman called Mingyan ignored him and turned back to chat with the portly Zhao, leaving the scholar out in the cold. She had no fondness for this impoverished scholar; her tastes ran to men like Zhao Dafu, scions of wealth and local gentry. Even as a pirate's captive, this ingrained preference would not be easily changed.

Ye Mo said little, finding a dry spot to sit and listening to their idle chatter, chiming in occasionally.

With Ye Mo, there were eight people in the cell. It did not take him long to piece together their backgrounds.

The portly man was Zhao Dafu, son of a wealthy landowner from Donglai, greedy and full of bluster. He had gone into business in his hometown, but someone tricked him onto this "immortal-seeking" ship, which turned out to be a pirate den.

There were several women: sisters You Mingyan and You Mingqiao, the former bold and lively, the latter shy and reserved. They had set out to join relatives, only to be lured aboard with promises of free passage.

Wu Shan, a wiry and taciturn hunter, had fled trouble back home and ended up on the pirate ship.

Among them was also a scholar named Zhang Yun, whose family pinned all their hopes on him. Having finally passed his exams, his future bright, he was ambushed and kidnapped on his way home—an affliction that left him despondent. At first, he had cried for days in the cell, mocked relentlessly by Zhao Dafu, until he exhausted himself into silence.

There was a timid youth of about fifteen, Jin Hao, who seemed afraid of everything.

The last was Qian Ying, daughter of an armor shop owner and the only martial artist among them. She kept mostly to herself, staring blankly at the door.

Knowing all this, Ye Mo could not help but feel resigned. What a motley group! Clearly, these pirates employed every trick—cheating, kidnapping, outright robbery—to fill their slaver quotas, caring little whether their captives were warriors or not.

"Don't bother trying to escape, little brother. I already tried—the wood is harder than iron," Wu Shan said gruffly. Young though he was, the hunter's face showed the marks of hardship. Compared to the others, his tone had no mockery or falsehood.

"Thanks for the warning, brother," Ye Mo replied. Wu Shan, though not a martial artist, was strong and shrewd—a hunter's skills not far removed from a warrior's.

"These cells are far too sturdy to break out of. Even the guards rarely patrol—the only times they come are morning and night to deliver food and check for corpses," Zhang Yun sighed. "Even if there were no guards, we'd never escape these cells!"

The others could only sigh in despair at the thought of being sold as slaves.

"Only two patrols a day?" Ye Mo took note. He had no intention of lingering long in this dark, fetid cell.