In Black Prison, there was no right or wrong. There were only the living and the dead.
Zheng Qing had come to understand that all too well from his brief exchanges with the demons.
The longing to live was etched into the deepest reaches of every creature's blood. It was an instinct beyond race, principles, morality, and every other restraint acquired in life.
After struggling for so long in endless darkness, feeling life drain away while being unable to die, a creature's hunger for life would erupt from deep within its blood. It would blaze like fire, fierce enough to burn through every restraint.
That was Black Prison.
The cruelest mercy wizards showed demons.
So the Old Lich's behavior did not surprise the young wizard.
"Yes, yes. You're stone statues."
Zheng Qing waved off the Old Lich's continued groveling and asked bluntly, "I'll only ask you once. How do we get to Black Prison Castle?"
"We're lowly prisoners barely surviving out in the wilderness. How would we know where Black Prison Castle is?" The Old Lich's weathered face grew solemn as he gestured around them. "In all my life, I haven't even left this valley—"
Zheng Qing raised a hand to cut him off, then signaled to the Black Cat at his feet.
A vicious grin spread across the cat's face. He lifted a paw, bared several sharp claws, and swiped. Streaks of silver flashed through the night, impossible to miss.
Crash!
The tiger demon, who had been standing obediently to one side pretending to be a statue, fell into four neat pieces. The pieces slid slowly to the ground. His eyes sprang wide, as though he wanted to say something, but their light soon faded to a dull gray.
In moments, thick blood had spilled from the severed body