This man didn't look particularly malicious?
At the very least, he looked far more approachable than the other heinous criminals.
"You're using some kind of magical means of observation in place of your eyes?" Ian could sense an extremely subtle, exquisite wave of Mental Power emanating from the blind man. Like invisible sonar, it outlined the surrounding environment and simulated a unique form of "vision."
"Yes."
The man admitted it clearly and directly. Being able to use magic even in prison meant he had some skill. After all, this prison also suppressed magical power.
It was like the pirates in One Piece who had eaten Devil Fruits being shackled with Marine Seastone handcuffs. Wizards had their own Seastone as well. At least on this land of Africa, similar materials were relatively abundant. They had been mined and laid across the floors of the cells imprisoning these criminals.
For Ian,
this suppression naturally had no effect. But for most ordinary wizards, it left them completely powerless. Anyone who could still use some magic under such circumstances was naturally no simple person.
Ian became interested in this blind man.
"What's going on?"
Ian did not immediately respond to the man's words. Instead, he asked a question of his own. His intuition told him that this prisoner, confined so deep below, was anything but ordinary. The man carried none of the aura of a vicious criminal. Instead, he possessed a quietness tempered by time and wisdom, along with a feeling of power... deeply concealed.
Like a dormant volcano. The blind man "looked" at Ian, and the corner of the mouth seemed to curve ever so slightly. He seemed to be smiling, yet also mocking himself.
"The 'neighbors' below aren't very friendly. And... the 'guards' have changed too." As he spoke, he touched his