"Hey! You stinking bald donkey! Are you going to slit your own throat, or do you want this lord to help you settle it?"
Bang!
A heavy footstep rang out before Yang An. The originally dark prison quickly became bright; no matter how dark it was, to cultivators, it was little different from broad daylight.
The one who walked up to Yang An was a towering brute clad in a suit of tattered armor. Every patch of exposed flesh on his body was covered in ugly, centipede-like scars.
He also had three extra eyes growing on his forehead like vertical lines. The pupils of those three eyes were each a different color, making for a rather eerie sight.
Heavy shackles bound his feet. With one glance, Yang An could tell that they had sealed the Mana within this man, leaving him unable to use any Mana or invoke the power of rules.
It was not just him. The people around them were the same. Every human, demon, or fiend imprisoned here was restrained by magical artifacts. They had not been isolated individually, but with their Mana sealed, even gathering together would not let them raise much of a storm.
However, this man's appearance stopped the others around Yang An, who had been itching to make a move, in their tracks. It seemed his tyrannical influence was considerable within this prison. Anything he set his eyes on made the others wary, and they did not dare lay a finger on it.
Yang An was likewise bound by a magical artifact—two black iron chains that pierced through his body and held him firmly in place. The Mana within him was also unusable, and he was currently kneeling on the ground.
Yang An had no time to deal with these fellows. He was