"William, you still haven't told me how to destroy this fragment!"

  Stirling looked at William and asked.

  "In the last room at the outpost, entirely made of willow wood. Destroy it there."

  "There's a disc inside. Just put the fragment on it. The disc connected to an array set up by the Yearning Palace, which will slowly wear down the fragment."

  William said.

  "Huh? That's simple?"

  Stirling was a little taken aback.

  "You think you're planning to slowly grind it down with a Malice-Breaking orb? If you're the love child of the Yearning Palace Master; do it."

  William chuckled.

  "Fine, aren't you coming in with me?"

  Stirling pointed to the room.

  "Who goes to that room for no reason? To have a death wish?" William cursed.

  Stirling secretly rejoiced, suppressing a smile. This meant the last two fragments were now in his hands; truly, fortune was on his side.

  Last night, he refined six fragments. He broke through the extreme barrier of the skin. Now, his "Malice Refining Technique" has reached the Bone Forging Realm.

  In just one night, he successfully completed three bone-forgings. Although he had exhausted all the fragments, such speed was simply unbelievable.

  After his success, Stirling considered that his major goal should still be to find more statues. With his strength increasing, the cult forces could easily be shattered to pieces.

  Thinking this, Stirling asked William:

  "Brother, did you encounter any malice from the Blood God Temple when you went to Rock Village the last time?"

  William, upon hearing this, immediately became furious once again.

  "You bastard, you still have the nerve! That white-haired old priest, Garbha Realm major completion. If I hadn't run fast, your Grandpa William would be a dried-up corpse, drained of all flesh and blood!"

  William cursed Stirling and stormed off. He did not want to spend another minute with this troublemaker.

  Stirling seemed thoughtful.

  It seemed William had indeed encountered Monk White in Rock Village. More than a month passed, even putting the improvement into consideration. Stirling judged Monk White to be only in the early stages of the Nascent Realm.

  "I'll settle the account with you after I enter the Viscera Refining realm. Monk White, you'd better stay alive!"

  Stirling remembered how helpless he had felt at Temple that day. He pushed down his strong desire for revenge. Holding the wooden box, he turned and walked toward the innermost wooden house.

  Stirling pushed open the wooden door and stepped into the room made to dispel Malice. A strange woody scent welcomed him at once.

  If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

  This unique willow fragrance, when overpowering, actually made Stirling feel dizzy. He shook his head and then walked to the most prominent stone platform in the room.

  On the platform sat a stone basin. Stirling examined it and noticed strange patterns carved into it.

  These patterns stretched out from the basin, wrapping around the entire platform and adding an eerie look.

  Stirling looked at the platform, then stretched out his palm and hovered it above the basin. He then began activating the malice refining technique, hoping for a pleasant surprise.

  However, after a few breaths, Stirling shook his head in disappointment and lowered his hands.

  Without a doubt, the array here wouldn't leak Malice. Anyway, Stirling had little hope. He took out the last two fragments from the food box and placed them in his hands.

  This time, Stirling reversed the malice refining technique to increase his lifespan.

  Last night, in the fierce battle, he absorbed malice and crafted the Malice-Breaking orb. His intake and output were high; as a result, his lifespan had dropped. Now, he had not reached a full year of life—his closest brush with death since he had transmigrated.

  "Be careful..."

  Stirling whispered to himself, and the pieces of the divine stature in his hands shook a bit. Malice flowed into him, turning into strands of lifespan.

  [You have refined a wisp of seven extreme malice, lifespan +0.1 days]

  [You have refined a wisp of seven extreme malice, lifespan +0.1 days]

  ...

  An hour later, Stirling left the malice-refining room contentedly. After inquiring with someone, he headed towards the dungeon.

  The Night Watch's dungeon entrance was in a small playground at the back of the building.

  This was Stirling's first time seeing this underground prison. And he felt a real shock as he descended the stone steps.

  The passageway here was very narrow. It was just wide enough for one person to squeeze through sideways, not like in the movies. A slightly overweight person would struggle to squeeze in, let alone two people walking side by side.

  The prison guard said this tunnel design was made to stop prisoners from escaping or trying to break out.

  If anyone dared to venture down, the guards outside, armed with spears, would wait. It is impossible to bring them out, especially the prisoners wearing heavy shackles and chains.

  The narrow passageway was about fifty meters long. By the end, Stirling felt tightness in his chest, trouble breathing, and a wave of tyrannical anxiety.

  These were physical reactions to spending a long time in a dark, cramped, and oxygen-poor space. This made Stirling see that once someone was caught and brought to the dungeon, it was almost game over.

  Thank goodness after going down the steps, the dungeon space became slightly larger.

  Separate stone chambers stood side by side. Next to them was an open area for the guards to rest.

  "Sir."

  The guard, using the dim light from the chamber, recognized the comer. He immediately stood at attention, calling out.

  "This is Luis Chilavert, ordered to investigate the Gray Spector about the possession of outer malice object."

  The warden introduced Stirling to the guard.

  "Yes, sir, I will cooperate with Brother Luis."

  The guard understood right off.

  "Brother Luis, the prisoner is in the second-to-last chamber. Sigh, you know what, this guy's too unyielding; we've tried so many methods, but he won't talk."

  The warden sighed.

  "The Judas Cradle, Pear of Anguish, Rat Torture—have you tried them?"

  Stirling demonstrated a high level of professionalism.

  In an instant, the warden's pupils dilated in shock.

  "May I ask where Brother Luis previously worked?"

  He subtly took a half-step back before asking.

  "Ah, let's not dwell on the past." Stirling put on a forced smile.

  The warden also chortled, then gave the guard a wink before decamping.

  The guard, pale-faced, felt a pang in his heart when Stirling looked at him. He swallowed hard without meaning to.

  "Brother Luis, the Scarface is inside. You can go by yourself; I cannot accompany you."

  The guard stammered.

  "Alright."

  Stirling, having achieved his goal of intimidation, chuckled and then walked deeper into the dungeon.

  The stone caves on both sides of the dungeon were now mostly occupied.

  Men and women in tattered prison clothes lay still on the ground. They looked disheveled and dirty, and their condition was unclear.

  A thick, foul smell hit Stirling's nose. He had to cover his face with his sleeve and moved on, frowning.

  Stirling finally reached the second-to-last cave. There, he saw the person he sought: the Gray Spector, the man with the scarred face.

  The scarred man looked utterly wretched. His bare chest was bloody. He hung limply on the ground, with iron hooks piercing his shoulders to stop him from fleeing.

  Night Watch's investigation was swift but inefficient.

  The mansion guard, who was in the viscera-refining realm, got away. The mastermind of the mansion disappeared. All the big fish escaped the net, catching only a small shrimp.

  It seemed the Gray Spector had discarded this poor man, who was going to be a scapegoat.