They were all of the Human Race, sharing the same origins and roots, bound by blood.
Though strife throughout the heavens was cruel and merciless, the Purgatory of the Demonic Grotto cold and unjust, and the struggle among the myriad races a matter of the strong devouring the weak, he ultimately could not stand by and watch newcomers of his own race fall into desperate straits upon entering Purgatory, needlessly suffering torture that tore their souls apart.
Deep within the unnoticed shadows of the scattered rocks, black mist completely concealed Shiheng's figure and movements.
His fingertips moved ever so slightly, without the slightest outward sign, utterly concealed.
Through ten years of daily labor in the Demonic Grotto, Shiheng had never once slacked off.
With a picking speed far beyond that of ordinary prisoners and an unerringly precise eye for selection, he had accumulated an immense stockpile of Other Shore Flowers in secret, day after day.
He had never handed over these stockpiled plants. Instead, he had carefully hidden them all in cracks between the Demonic Grotto's rocks, blind spots in the black mist, and hollows underground, so well concealed that no one had discovered them.
He understood the loopholes in the Demonic Grotto's rules better than anyone, along with the blind spots in every prisoner's and overseer's knowledge.
Without refinement through a special divine soul process to remove their ferocity and neutralize their death essence, Other Shore Flowers contained violent, overbearing, intractable power of death.
Gods could not directly refine and absorb these raw Other Shore Flowers at all. Not only did they offer no benefit, they would instead corrode their divine souls.
Precisely because of this, none of the demon overseers or veteran prisoners ever expended any effort investigating prisoners' private stashes of Other Shore Flowers.
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