"Hiss—"
In the pitch-black darkness where one could not see one's own hand, another shrill, desolate hiss suddenly rang out, laden with immense pain.
This should have been the third cry.
In an instant, branches crackled all around them. Countless more had likely snapped.
"Crackle..."
Purple lightning flickered after it, faintly illuminating the darkness and outlining the cramped, sealed environment of a treehouse cage.
Dead branches, dead branches, nothing but dead branches! Winding, coiling black dead branches wrapped the surroundings airtight, leaving barely enough room to shift one's butt.
"Thump! Thump!"
The purple lightning swiftly vanished.
In the darkness, increasingly frantic heartbeats began to sound.
Suddenly, as though resisting fear, a muffled, trembling voice burst forth, cracking from the strain: "Are kings and nobles born to their lot?!"
Boom! Purple lightning abruptly exploded.
The dark branches surrounding him, newly brimming with life force, were scorched black by the lightning and turned back into dead branches.
Cao Erzhu abruptly raised his head inside the treehouse cage. Tears welled in his eyes, his lips trembled, and his gaze seemed to pierce through the walls as he fought the fear in his heart with a roar:
"Are kings and nobles born to their lot?"
"Are kings and nobles born to their lot?"
"Are kings and nobles, are—"
Swish, swish, swish.
The black dead branches seemed frightened by his madness and withdrew a little, yielding some space.
Cao Erzhu had been sitting cross-legged in meditation. Seeing this, he tried to push his luck. Still shouting "kings and nobles," he started to rise, intending to blast through the treehouse and escape.
Swish, swish, swish! The branches pressed in again, frightening him into hurriedly shrinking back into his meditative posture. His voice rose another notch:
"Born to their lot?!"
"Are you born to your lot?!"
"**I'm