Chapter Fifty-Seven: Breaking Free from the Prison

“His body seems to be glowing!”

“Is this some kind of internal martial arts technique?”

Inside the cell, the seven civilian prisoners grew increasingly curious, their eyes wide with disbelief as they stared at Ye Mo, who sat cross-legged in the corner.

Ye Mo’s body trembled, his expression contorted in agony, but after a long while, his face finally settled into calm serenity.

Suddenly, Ye Mo opened his eyes, and a sharp gleam flashed across them.

In that instant, the radiance in his gaze sparkled like starlight, deep and mysterious, carrying a majesty that filled the dim ship’s hold with an uncanny brilliance.

The seven prisoners felt as if needles stabbed their eyes, instinctively turning away, awe etched onto their faces—none dared meet Ye Mo’s gaze.

Ye Mo had just broken through to the Spirit Core stage; the light in his eyes carried a piercing aura not meant for ordinary mortals.

Zhao Dafu, who had witnessed Ye Mo’s strange transformation, stood with his mouth agape. This civilian warrior suddenly inspired fear in him; that glance nearly shattered his courage.

Qian Ying furrowed her delicate brows, pondering in vain. She had never heard of such a phenomenon; this young warrior remained utterly inscrutable to her.

This unremarkable young man now commanded her reverence, and she found herself unable even to entertain resistance.

Such was the result of overwhelming disparity in power.

The gleam faded from Ye Mo’s eyes as he swept his gaze across the cell, noting the drastic change in the prisoners’ demeanor.

None dared look at him directly.

Only You Mingqiao’s clear, bashful eyes stole furtive glances at Ye Mo.

Ye Mo paid no mind to their astonishment, instead swiftly considering his plan for escaping the cell and seizing the pirate ship.

“I now possess a strength of a thousand pounds with a mere turn of my palm; breaking the cell door should pose no problem. But what next?”

“I have neither a spiritual sword nor spells; all I possess is raw power, making me little more than a warrior of prodigious strength.”

“This pirate ship has only two routine patrols, morning and evening; aside from that, only the main exits are guarded by warriors.”

“There are over a hundred pirates aboard, well-armed and numerous. If they swarm, I’ll certainly be overwhelmed!”

“Once I escape the cell, I must find a way to recover my Golden Spirit Sword and Water Arrow Talisman as soon as possible!”

Ye Mo knew well that without magic or weapons, he could not contend bare-handed against a hundred seasoned, well-equipped pirates.

No matter how formidable one’s strength, even an elephant may be felled by enough ants.

Outside the cell hung several iron basins—charcoal crackled within, while oil lamps dimly illuminated the corridor, casting a faint glow across the lower deck.

Zhao Dafu and the others had yet to recover from their shock.

They had all heard tales of the immortals of the Eastern Sea. In their eyes, cultivators were distant legends, impossible to encounter in a prison cell.

Before today, none could have imagined someone breaking through to become a cultivator right beside them.

But what they witnessed now surpassed both their understanding of warriors and the limits of their comprehension. Outside of cultivators, there was no other explanation.

“Sir… Esteemed elder, are you truly one of the legendary immortals?”

Scholar Zhang swallowed hard, his voice trembling with excitement.

If Ye Mo were indeed one of the fabled immortals, he could break open the cell and kill the ship’s captain. That would mean a chance to return home, perhaps even secure a good post in the county if time allowed.

“But wait! If you are an immortal able to soar and burrow, how could these pirates have imprisoned you here?”

His excitement quickly gave way to disappointment.

“Alas, it seems there is no hope of escaping this pirate ship after all!”

He shook his head in resignation, sadness spreading across his face.

Scholar Zhang even regretted ever choosing to study over martial training; had he been a warrior, he might not have been knocked unconscious and kidnapped on his journey home.

“When we get out, don’t run off. Just follow me!”

Ye Mo’s tone was serious and calm.

Words were useless now; there was no time to waste.

Ignoring the stunned crowd, he rose and walked to the wooden bars of the cell.

Each bar was made of spiritual wood, as thick as an arm and hard as iron, specially designed to confine warriors. Even low-level fighters would find them impervious to blades.

Without waiting for a response, Ye Mo steadied himself, drew a deep breath, summoned his strength, and struck with a mighty fist.

His punch landed squarely on one of the bars.

The force exceeded a thousand pounds, more powerful than even the triple strike of a peerless warrior.

Bang!

The bar caved in, a fist-sized depression forming, cracks spreading across its surface.

Bang! Bang!

Two more blows, and the bar snapped with a loud crack, sent flying by Ye Mo’s heavy fist. The thunderous noise echoed through much of the lower deck.

Ye Mo withdrew his hand with satisfaction and stepped through the broken gap, leaving the cell.

Inside, Zhao Dafu, Qian Ying, Wu Shan, and the other seven stared in horror at the shattered bars, utterly stunned.

“Three punches broke a bar harder than iron! Good heavens, that’s impossible for any warrior. These bars withstand a thousand pounds; no fighter could break them.”

“An immortal! He’s truly an immortal!”

A tidal wave of awe surged in their hearts.

“May I ask your esteemed name, senior? Would you accept me as your disciple?”

Wu Shan was first to regain his senses, kneeling in delight and fervor.

Immortals had always been mere legend to him, but today, a genuine immortal stood before his eyes.

“Senior? Disciple?”

Ye Mo regarded Wu Shan with an odd expression.

Wu Shan, alarmed, was about to ask if he had offended Ye Mo.

“My surname is Ye, but I’m hardly an elder. I’ve only just become a cultivator; how could I accept a disciple? If you want to cultivate, wait until the ship reaches Immortal Village and seek your own path.”

Ye Mo’s face was strange, his tone helpless.

Raised in a humble family, Ye Mo was no different from any other townsfolk—save for a heart stronger than most.

He bore no disdain for Wu Shan, nor did he display arrogance or a sense of superiority.

“No need for formalities; Master Ye, please just call me Shan.”

Wu Shan was momentarily taken aback by Ye Mo’s amiable words, but quickly replied.

“Master Ye, Immortal, this humble woman owes you her life. If you do not mind, I would gladly follow you, serve you, prepare your bed, wash your clothes, cook, or sweep—anything!”

You Mingyan’s eyes sparkled, her voice urgent as she pressed her chest forward.

Feeling insufficient, she pulled her sister Mingqiao closer. “Not just me—my sister Qiao can serve too!”

Everyone else cast her scornful looks; she was quick to abandon Zhao Dafu, whom she previously favored, in hopes of throwing herself into Ye Mo’s arms—bringing her sister along.

Zhao Dafu inwardly despised You Mingyan’s fickle nature, then bowed to Ye Mo three times, his face fawning. “Master Ye, I have no special skills, but I understand finance. I would gladly assist you with any trivial tasks.”

Ye Mo rolled his eyes, ignoring the sycophant, and strode toward the other cells, eager to find the companions who had come with him from the island.