Arthur's consciousness returned gradually, at first he only became aware of an aching numbness spreading throughout his body, followed by a dull throbbing where his left arm should have been.
He remained perfectly still, resisting the urge to immediately open his eyes. Countless dangerous situations throughout his life had taught him that the first few seconds after regaining consciousness were often the most critical. Only after confirming that nothing was actively attacking him did he slowly open his eyes.
A plain stone ceiling greeted him. There were no windows or decorations, only cold black stone that seemed to absorb every trace of light. He sat up slowly, his movements deliberately calm as his eyes swept across his surroundings.
The room resembled a prison cell more than anything else. Three sides were enclosed by pitch black walls, yet what immediately caught his attention wasn't the walls themselves but the countless formations carved into them. Every inch of the black stone was densely packed with complex arrays.
Thousands upon thousands of interconnected runes spread across the surface in intricate geometric patterns, each one glowing faintly with a dull silver light. The front of the cell was sealed by thick metallic bars forged from a material he couldn't immediately identify. Even those bars weren't ordinary. Similar arrays had been engraved into every rod, creating a network that connected seamlessly with the formations covering the walls.
Invisible energy flowed continuously through the entire prison, forming a suppressive field so subtle that an ordinary cultivator might not even notice its existence. Arthur, however, immediately felt it. It pressed against every part of his body, restricting the circulation of Aether, sealing the activation of several abilities, and even making it more difficult to extend his senses beyond the cell.
His expression remained calm, but inwardly he replayed everything that had happened before losing consciousness. And the more he thought about his encounter with the old man, the more he realized just how many mistakes he had made since arriving on the rogue planet.
Usually he prided himself on being cautious. Ever since discovering the existence of beings capable of destroying entire civilizations, he had made a habit of planning several steps ahead. Yet this time he had allowed excitement to cloud his judgment. The first mistake had occurred before he even landed on the planet.
He possessed a System capable of analyzing almost anything, yet he had never bothered asking the most basic question imaginable. Was this rogue planet under someone's ownership? If he had checked, perhaps the System would have warned him that the planet belonged to an existence he absolutely shouldn't provoke.
Even if the System couldn't identify the owner directly, any additional information would have made him more cautious. Instead, he had charged in simply because he sensed powerful beasts suitable for training.
The second mistake followed almost immediately afterward, the existence of Golden Adamant Apples. He closed his eyes briefly while remembering the endless forest of priceless spirit fruits. Looking back now, the answer seemed painfully obvious.
Rogue worlds were indeed dangerous, but if a forest containing treasures capable of extending lifespan by a century per fruit existed completely unguarded, something was fundamentally wrong with the picture.
Such a resource would've sparked endless wars throughout the Immortal Realm. Yet here it existed openly, protected only by beast tribes. Rather than questioning the situation immediately, he had assumed fortune had smiled upon him. In hindsight, it wasn't fortune at all. It was evidence that the planet itself possessed value beyond imagination.
He silently exhaled before continuing his analysis. There had been another mistake, one born not from recklessness but from simple inexperience. During his confrontation with the old man, he hadn't even considered using 'Analyze'. At the time he had been too busy trying to preserve his secrets and survive the interrogation.
Now, sitting alone within the prison cell, he realized that a single glance at the old man's status might have answered countless questions. Of course, there was no guarantee Analyze would've succeeded against someone so overwhelmingly powerful even though hypothetically he could analyze any being up to multiversal level but he felt there should be some drawbacks to it and he doesn't fully trust Ananke the master of fate.
Still, he should have tried. Instead, he had relied solely on instinct. Fortunately, that instinct had been accurate enough to paint an alarming picture. That old man hadn't merely been stronger than Malphas or Typhon, he existed on an entirely different plane of existence.
Arthur slowly clenched his remaining fist. The old man possessed the capability to kill him permanently. That single realization alone narrowed the possibilities dramatically. Throughout everything he had learned so far, only Immortal Monarchs and Immortal Emperors possessed souls powerful enough to completely erase another cultivator's existence.
His own soul currently resided at the Lord Soul stage. It granted tremendous advantages over ordinary cultivators, but before an existence whose soul had already evolved into a Monarch Soul, the difference became almost insurmountable.
If the old man truly possessed a Monarch Soul, destroying Arthur's soul completely would likely be no more difficult than crushing an insect beneath his foot. For perhaps the first time since arriving in the cultivation world, Arthur genuinely understood what absolute weakness felt like.
A faint smile unexpectedly appeared on his face. It wasn't a smile born of confidence, but rather relief. As terrifying as the situation had become, he had still managed to protect his greatest secrets. His Sea of Consciousness remained undiscovered and the System remained hidden and his ability to traverse universes freely remained concealed.
If any one of those had been exposed, his current predicament would've become infinitely worse. The old man would've never bothered imprisoning him. He would've dissected him on the spot until every mystery surrounding Arthur had been uncovered. Thinking of that possibility caused a cold shiver to travel down his spine. 'I was lucky,' he admitted inwardly.
The thought carried no self-pity, only honest self criticism. Strength without caution eventually produced exactly this outcome. If he survived this incident, it would become a lesson he would never forget again. Yet despite everything happening inside his mind, he carefully maintained a neutral expression.
His gaze remained calm while he quietly observed the prison around him. There was always the possibility the old man was watching through some unknown method. Showing panic or exposing his thoughts served no purpose whatsoever. If anything, appearing silent might convince his captor that he had already accepted his situation. Sometimes the greatest advantage a prisoner possessed was allowing the jailer to underestimate him.
Eventually his gaze lowered toward his missing arm. The sleeve hung empty where his left arm had once been. He carefully examined the wound and immediately noticed something interesting. Even after remaining unconscious for what was presumably several hours, his arm hadn't regenerated.
Normally Superior Regeneration would've reconstructed his entire limb within moments. Yet now only countless microscopic muscle fibers slowly crawled outward from the severed stump. Tiny strands of flesh intertwined almost imperceptibly before stalling once again. If he hadn't possessed extraordinary eyesight, he might not even have noticed the regeneration occurring at all.
He understood the reason almost immediately. During his interrogation, he had deliberately suppressed his regeneration to avoid exposing another impossible secret. Apparently, even after losing consciousness, the System had continued enforcing that suppression automatically after determining that displaying instant regeneration would drastically increase the probability of the host's death.
It wasn't completely stopping the healing. Rather, it had throttled Superior Regeneration down to a level resembling an ordinary healing physique. Slow enough to avoid suspicion, yet still active enough to preserve his long term survival. Arthur couldn't help appreciating the System's decision. Had his arm suddenly regenerated while he remained unconscious, the old man would've immediately realized something was abnormal.
At least now the healing appeared natural, if somewhat impressive. Judging from the current speed, reconstructing the entire arm would probably require several weeks instead of several seconds. That was perfectly acceptable under the circumstances.
After confirming the condition of his body, he shifted his attention toward the suppressive formations surrounding the prison. He closed his eyes and extended his perception inward. The invisible pressure covering the cell continuously interfered with his Aether circulation.
Spatial Manipulation refused to respond entirely, Matter Manipulation remained sealed beneath countless overlapping restrictions while even his Divine Sense couldn't extend beyond a few meters before dispersing against the prison walls.
Yet something else quickly caught his attention. The suppressive force wasn't as absolute as it had initially seemed. Deep within his body, Reactive Evolution had already begun responding to the hostile environment. Tiny changes occurred continuously beneath his skin. His cells gradually adapted to the foreign suppression and instinctively searched for ways to function under the prison's restrictions.
The process was incredibly slow compared to adapting against poison or physical attacks, but it was undeniably happening. Arthur carefully estimated the progress before opening his eyes again. At the current rate, perhaps twenty four hours or maybe slightly longer. By then his body would likely have adapted sufficiently for him to begin using certain active abilities again.Once that happened... escaping this prison might actually become possible.
His attention finally settled upon the formations themselves. Although he couldn't activate most of his powers, nobody had sealed away his mind. If brute force wasn't currently an option, then knowledge would have to become his weapon instead.
Arthur slowly sat up and faced one of the black walls. Countless silver runes glowed faintly beneath his gaze, each one containing profound mysteries far beyond his current understanding. Yet instead of feeling discouraged, he felt strangely excited.
These formations clearly belonged to an existence far above his own realm. Simply studying them would likely improve his understanding of arrays tremendously. He carefully traced several array pathways with his eyes, memorizing every detail while mentally comparing them to the countless formations he had previously studied.
They were incomparably more sophisticated than teleportation arrays or defensive formations he had studied before. Every array served multiple purposes simultaneously while every energy pathway shifted dynamically depending on surrounding conditions. It was less like looking at an ordinary formation and more like studying a living organism.
He soon became completely absorbed in deciphering the prison's construction. Time gradually lost meaning as his thoughts immersed themselves within endless layers of formation logic. Somewhere beyond the prison walls lurked an existence capable of erasing him from reality itself.
Arthur knew he was racing against time, he only hoped the old man wouldn't decide to visit his prisoner before Reactive Evolution finished adapting to the suppression... or before he uncovered a weakness hidden somewhere within the prison that currently held him captive.
***
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