Boom! Boom!
The dull, echoing sound of fists crashing against stone reverberated through the sealed underground chamber.
In a secluded cell forged entirely from soul stones, impervious to spiritual or physical tampering, Giyo hammered at the walls with raw fury.
His black hair clung to his sweat-slicked face, droplets falling with each movement.
His bare chest heaved, every muscle straining with exertion, taut, defined, and worn from years of struggle.
His fists struck again.
Boom!
Yet it left no cracks nor any dents.
Just as he continued to punch a few more times.
Sound of footsteps appeared in the background, soft, deliberate, and all-too-familiar.
A shadow cast itself across the cell as Yu Zhong entered, dressed in his usual robes, his presence carrying that same smug calm that had haunted Giyo for years.
Behind him stood two cloaked guards. Yu Zhong offered them a glance.
"Both of you—disappear."
