Desolate Devouring Art - Chapter 1153 - Plan

Chapter 1153 – Plan

The guards marched Liu Wuxie toward the castle. Its blazing lights cut through the night while singing and revelry spilled into the air.

Stepping inside felt like entering another world—a paradise in stark contrast to the desolate Anlu Star. Pavilions lined the courtyard, their elegance underscored by the faint creak of wooden beams.

Following a path paved with smooth blue slabs, they entered the main hall. Scantily clad women danced seductively before a man in his fifties seated at the head. He had a small goatee and a beauty nestled in his arms, holding a cup of wine to his lips as if serving an emperor.

Liu An stepped inside alone, leaving Liu Wuxie outside under the watch of two guards to ensure that he wouldn’t escape. Approaching the seated man, Liu An knelt and announced, “Commander, the sinner Liu Wuxie is in custody. He must be related to the mysterious disappearance of the slaves today.”

Yu Wentai lazily raised his head and waved for the dancers to leave. “Bring him in.”

He ruled Anlu Star with authority that surpassed even the Slaughter Immortal Palace.

At Liu An’s signal, the two guards escorted Liu Wuxie into the hall.

“Liu Wuxie, what are you waiting for? Pay your respects to the Commander!” Liu An barked.

Liu Wuxie cupped his fists toward Yu Wentai. “Greetings, Commander.”

“Speak. Where did the missing slaves go?” Yu Wentai asked without preamble. Such mass disappearances were unprecedented. If they had died, there would have been traces. Yet today, Scar-Faced Liu and his men had vanished like smoke.

“Commander, I have no idea about the disappearance. I ask you to investigate the truth,” Liu Wuxie replied calmly. If they had proof, they would have executed him already. Their questioning revealed they lacked any proof.

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you?” Yu Wentai’s sharp gaze locked on him, his Origin Conversion Realm aura pressing down like a colossal mountain.

“I’m innocent! Please don’t be misled by villains,” Liu Wuxie said firmly, still cupping his fists.

“You’re saying Liu An is lying to me?” Yu Wentai stood and glanced at Liu An. One of them was lying.

“Commander, he’s spouting nonsense! My investigation revealed that Scar-Faced Liu and his men entered the mine this morning but never emerged. Only Liu Wuxie and another person went into the same tunnel,” Liu An reported, kneeling.

“Do you have anything to say now?” Yu Wentai asked, signaling Liu An to rise. He trusted his right-hand man.

“I refuse to accept this. You’re just pushing the blame onto me,” Liu Wuxie said, knowing more words were useless.

“You’ve got guts. Since you claim innocence, I’ll give you a chance. Survive what’s coming, and I’ll let you go,” Yu Wentai said. Killing a slave meant nothing to him, but slow torment was far more entertaining.

Liu Wuxie readied himself. If Yu Wentai were to attack, he would break through to the Heaven Profound Realm on the spot. Though he could not win, escape could still be possible. He allowed the guards to capture him to scout the castle’s layout, and killing Scar-Faced Liu formed only a small part of his plan.

Know oneself, know one’s enemy. He kept even He Yingwu in the dark to make the act convincing.

Liu An’s lips curled into a cruel smirk as he guessed the Commander’s intent.

“Take him away. At dawn, we open the arena. If he survives three rounds, we’ll forget today’s events,” Yu Wentai ordered before leaving the hall.

“Understood!” Liu An bowed.

Alone with Liu Wuxie, Liu An barked, “Guards, lock him up and keep a close eye on him! The Commander wants a good show tomorrow.”

The guards seized Liu Wuxie and led him to the western wing, where a chill lingered in the air. He made no move to resist and used Ghost Eye to memorize the castle’s layout and patrol routes.

They stopped before a massive rusted iron gate carved with eerie images that seemed to shake the soul. When it opened, a dark corridor appeared, heavy with the stench of death. Liu Wuxie shut his senses to block it.

The guards led him through to an underground prison. Surprisingly, every prisoner possessed formidable strength, some even at the Transcendent Realm—a rarity, as such cultivators usually escaped slavery or became leaders. He couldn’t figure out why they had imprisoned so many people here.

As they descended, the air grew fresher. The guards shoved Liu Wuxie into an empty cell and locked the door. Without a word, they locked the gate and left.

He could only guess at the “three rounds” the Commander had mentioned. Still, he had mapped the castle and counted three hundred guards, split into five districts—twenty percent guarding the castle, thirty percent the mines.

The rest were scattered. Anlu Star’s terrain made escape nearly impossible; beyond lay unmanned zones prowled by astral beasts. Any escapee would die, while those in the mines could live.

Liu Wuxie resumed cultivation. Strength was imperative for survival. He had a plan, but his current level held him back.

……

Meanwhile, He Yingwu sat in a daze, and anxiety etched itself onto his face. Chen Gang lounged with his legs crossed, humming, certain that Liu Wuxie was already dead.

At dawn, tremors and noise shook the prison, rousing everyone from meditation. Prisoners slammed their bars. The slaves let out only muffled sounds, as if someone had cut their tongues.

A deep rumble followed as a massive stone gate opened, flooding the underground with blinding sunlight.

Liu Wuxie squinted, faintly making out a massive arena. His limited view hid the entire scene, yet he could still sense its enormous scale.

The two guards from before entered and opened his cell.

“Come out!” one ordered.

The other guard shackled his left foot and forced him to drag the chain as they led him forward.

When they passed through the gate, cheers erupted.

“A beast arena,” Liu Wuxie muttered. The sand was dark purple, stained by countless battles. Slaves spared from the mines for the day packed the stands.

He quickly spotted He Yingwu in the crowd, worry plain on his face. Chen Gang watched him with the gaze of a man watching a dead man walk.

In the center, Yu Wentai sat high above, surrounded by guards and iron fences to keep him safe even in a riot.

The guards chained Liu Wuxie to an iron stake, limiting him to thirty meters—sixty in diameter. The arena was one hundred and fifty meters across. Now, he understood Yu Wentai’s plan.

A burly prisoner entered from the stone gate, also shackled. When he reached ten meters from Liu Wuxie, the guard unlocked his chains.

The man roared, struck the guard, and sent him flying. His power surged like a tidal wave and forced the others to retreat.

Two rusty blades fell from the sky—one before Liu Wuxie, the other before the burly man.