Great Snow Mountain, the underground prison.
In the hushed corridor, oil lamps cast a hazy glow. The Past King sat cross-legged alone in a special cell covered in restrictions, his face veiled by the long black shadows cast by the bars, his expression solemn and still.
He was like a statue, utterly motionless where he sat.
Not far outside the corridor, two Warriors stood straight as pines, their keen eyes fixed on him without blinking. Their faces betrayed nothing, but in secret, they conversed through voice transmission.
"How long has he been like this?"
"A full twenty hours since he turned around yesterday."
"To think he can still remain in meditation inside this Desolate Domain formation array. Truly impressive."
"Otherwise, why would the higher-ups care so much? We must be careful. Miss Bai came to interrogate him earlier and told us to follow the guarding regulations strictly. This man is stronger and more dangerous than any mighty ancient cultivator previously imprisoned here!"
This was the dungeon beneath Great Snow Mountain. Fang Qianyuan did not yet want the sect or the Heavenly Realms Alliance to learn of the Past King's existence. The loose ends concerning the identity the Past King had assumed and Liu Chuanxi were also being handled in secret. They still needed to wait for the Mystic Sun Sect to send someone to confirm that Liu Chuanxi had died and that this man was not the original before taking further action.
Moreover, to Fang Qianyuan, the Past King's true value lay in the memories and knowledge he carried. During this interval, naturally, the pavilion nearest the water would catch the moon first.
He also had enough ability and resolve to suppress this man single-handedly, without fearing that he might stir up waves.
As the two Warriors conversed, footsteps sounded