The disturbance at Prisoner Dragon Ridge came far too suddenly, and subsided just as suddenly.
From the triggering of the restrictions to their settling down, barely half an incense stick's time had passed.
Yet in that half an incense stick's time, the entire Purple Sky Dragon Palace had been alarmed.
It was like an earthquake, shaking even the old fossils into action.
The first to arrive were two nearby patrols of Dragon Scale Guards, numbering well over a hundred.
From a distance, they saw the runic light on the Dragon-Sealing Lock atop Prisoner Dragon Ridge dancing like burning flames.
Golden patterns raced wildly across the chains, giving off a low, thunderous hum, and they had rushed over almost immediately.
Three Dragon Scale Guards with weaker cultivation were driven several steps back by that pressure.
Their faces went deathly pale, and even the weapons in their hands trembled slightly.
"Quick, report to His Majesty!"
The commander leading them was a member of the Merfolk.
At his command, two Dragon Scale Guards turned and flew away.
The commander himself led the remaining guards in surrounding the perimeter of Prisoner Dragon Ridge.
Every halberd was drawn, every pair of vigilant eyes scanning each blade of grass and every tree around them.
He dared not approach too closely. The Dragon-Sealing Lock's power was surging violently, its pressure making his bones ache and his whole body tremble.
A moment later, three figures streaked across the sky and stopped above Prisoner Dragon Ridge.
These were the true old fossils of the Purple Sky Dragon Palace, figures whose names were normally heard but whose faces were never seen.
At their head was an old man with snow-white hair and beard.
His face was withered, and the two dragon horns on his forehead had already turned a faint