The Rise of the Black Plain

Escaping from this prison alongside his wives—if they were really there, as he deemed—would be close to impossible. Even with all the powers Minos had accumulated throughout his journey, he couldn't stand against so many Supremes and all the high-level defenses of this facility.

But the place he was in was so well-protected that Minos didn't even know if he'd make it to the prisoners' wing without the cooperation of the Guards and Jailers themselves.

After a while of following the Guard Alys, he could see just how secure the place was, with thick walls that basically prevented anyone from feeling more than a few meters in front of where they were.

But despite how well-protected the prison was, he didn't show his worries as he made his way alongside Alys to where he could wait for Jailer Deryk.

"Senior, which group exactly are you after? I'll set things up for when Jailer Deryk comes to see you," said the woman as she indicated for Minos to take a seat in a comfortable and well finished room, where there were snacks available and a meditation area for visitors.

It wasn't that common for people in Minos' position to come to the prison, but it wasn't something that never happened, either. Cursed Stone had facilities for specialists like the thin-skinned, pale-looking fellow.

Minos said, "It's a group of aliens from an Oqia force. I've made some representations of what some of them look like."

Minos took a chance by giving the appearance of his wives and some of his guild mates who had come to Uzira with him.

Cursed Stone had even more inmates than the individuals behind the running of this place. There was no way for Alys to look at Minos' drawn figures and immediately correlate them to inmates.

"I'll see what I can do for you. For now, you can relax and wait, senior. Jailer Deryk shouldn't be long."

Minos was left alone in sequence, in the dark whether he was harboring suspicions of being an imposter or whether he was really managing to pass himself off as the enemy he was posing as.

One way or the other, he was now in a situation he couldn't escape from if he was in a bad way. He sat down on a cultivation cushion and closed his eyes, pretending to be meditating while his lungs processed the energy entering his body through his airways.

Minos would feel guards watching him for the next two hours, but he wouldn't move. He would wait until someone came up to him, a man of level 122, two meters tall and with a muscular body, apparently young.

Jailer Deryk greeted Minos with a formal gesture, followed by an "All hail the Eternal Death," before the man introduced himself, speaking in an almost subservient tone.

Minos was hiding his original cultivation mark, despite showing a strength of level 115. But he knew that the members of this place thought he was someone of the same level as the old man he had killed earlier.

But even so, the man who was supposed to be stronger than him treated him as if the situation was reversed and he was actually the stronger one.

'Necromancers from the sovereign family of Uzira really are highly respected. I bet that jailer would risk his life for that man I killed if he had to.'

"... Senior Barnet, Alys told me about the group you're looking for," said the man, as Minos looked at him expectantly, ready to use one of his hidden weapons and kill, if this was the moment his identity was going to be exposed.

But that wouldn't be necessary.

"Luckily, the group the senior wishes to visit is under my supervision. I'll be able to take you to them later."

"Oh? How's their situation? I've only heard rumors about the arrest of this group. Is everyone still alive?"

"Four members of the group seem to have died before reaching our hands, but the others are alive."

There was something that seemed to bother Deryk when he answered Minos' question.

"Will they be able to answer my questions?" Minos narrowed his eyes. "The person I want to catch is the husband of the three women in the drawings I handed over to Guard Alys."

"Hmm, those three are quite strong, despite being the weakest of the group. You could talk to one of them. But I'm afraid it would be impossible to visit all three."

Minos had already heard about the time limit for prison visitors like him, which, when finished, he would have to leave and would not be able to return before reporting back to the sovereign family about his actions. His time would be up in just over two hours, which shouldn't be enough for him to go through all the security protocols of the place more than once.

"All right. I'll talk to the blue-haired alien girl," he said as he kept his concern to himself.

Fortunately, all three were alive. That was all that mattered for now.

"Certainly, Senior Barnet. I'll escort you to the area where she's being held. But I must warn you to prepare yourself. The woman has some powers that make her difficult to interrogate. She doesn't feel pain and has necromantic abilities."

The end of the man's words were somewhat more restrained, almost as if he was afraid to say such a thing in front of Barnet.

'Tsk! Trouble.' Minos thought to himself, now aware that the sovereign family of this state was not friendly to those with necromantic powers who were not part of the family.

"There's no trouble. What I want from her she'll probably give me without difficulty... She's probably nervous about her men's disappearance," Minos said as he forced a mischievous laugh.

"Oh? We didn't have that information before. Thank you for sharing it with us, senior," Jailer Deryk said on the way to the entrance of the cell wing.

Soon the two arrived at a passageway where Minos was forced to wear a handcuff on his hands and legs, as well as leave his ID there.

He followed behind the Jailer, passing through a steel door over 3 meters thick, finally arriving in a darker, more precarious area, where the sound of droplets spread out, forming a strange symphony.

The place was dark and had a malicious aura about it that made even Minos wary.

"That feeling..." He muttered to himself, while the Jailer understood the reaction of someone not used to going there.

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