Half an hour later, the prison's heavy doors slowly opened once more.
Ang walked at the front, his steps steady and resolute, followed by four hundred and ten Second-tier experts.
The expressions of these experts varied, but every one of their eyes held deep fear.
The bloody scene from earlier was still branded into their hearts. The headless corpses of more than a dozen comrades seemed to still lie beneath their feet, and every step felt as though they were treading through that pool of blood.
As for those who had refused to pledge loyalty and died in the prison, the middle-aged man had already collected them as his trophies.
Although the middle-aged man's expression remained stern, the fervor and greed in his eyes could not be concealed.
Before parting, he respectfully handed Ang a black Magic Waist Pouch.
Ang gave it a brief inspection, and his heart trembled slightly.
It was filled with an astonishing number of standard-issue Tier 2 Enchanted Armaments—armor, weapons, protective gear, everything one could need.
Each item emitted a unique energy fluctuation.
"Looks like His Majesty wasn't entirely insincere," Ang murmured.
He had not held out much hope to begin with.
After all, he had known back in the imperial capital that the emperor was deeply calculating and would not readily provide full support.
At the time, he had expected himself lucky if he could obtain even half the manpower.
Yet now, not only had the number exceeded expectations, but they had also been provided with uniform equipment. It far surpassed anything he had imagined.
Some of the resentment in his heart faded away. His expression relaxed slightly, though it remained cold.
As they left the prison, the experts instinctively looked back.
The iron bars were still grim and icy. Inside remained the blood and