Chapter 8: Laying The Array

Words : 1858 Updated : Nov 13th, 2025

Anya found herself even more in awe of Stefan as she watched Carlos walk away. What kind of man was he that even the warden took him so seriously? He was, after all, a condemned inmate. The fact that the warden had let him walk around the prison as he pleased was nothing short of unbelievable. What on earth had the two of them done in that office? Stefan seemed increasingly mysterious to her. "Stefan, can you treat me now?" She looked at him expectantly. Not only was he mysterious, he was handsome, too. Stefan nodded. "I can." "Then come on!" Before he could say anything, Anya took the initiative. She pulled off her top, leaving just her bra on. Faced with her proud, sculpted figure and a face that could rival a movie star's, Stefan swallowed hard. Hell. What buttoned-up guy could remain calm in a situation like this? He was a normal man, and confronted with such a sight, his blood ran hot. "What are you staring at? Start the treatment already!" A flush crept up Anya's cheeks. She looked tense, her heart thumping, flustered, and secretly pleased all at once. Didn't this prove she really had that kind of charm that turns heads? Truth be told, Stefan was easy on the eyes and had a strong, athletic build, the picture of a perfect boyfriend. If he hadn't been on death row, she'd have happily made the first move herself. "All right. Try to relax. No need to be so tense." He cleared his throat and placed his palm over her core. Yesterday had been his first time treating anyone, and he hadn't paid much attention. This time, he could feel her skin clearly, and it was soft and smooth. It was an exquisite sensation that tempted him to linger. "Stefan, what are you doing? Get on with it." When nothing seemed to happen, Anya urged him impatiently. In her mind, he must have mastered some legendary technique to pull off tricks like this. "Ahem." He snapped out of it, channeled his power, and drew the sickly energy from her body. As the same wave of relief washed over her as it had yesterday, Anya couldn't help letting out a soft, involuntary sound. She was getting addicted to it. If only she could have it every day, no, three times a day, would be even better. Since he'd achieved what he wanted, Stefan drew out every last trace of the energy and, reluctantly, lifted his hand. "The birthmark on your face is gone for good. I promise it won't ever come back." "What? Really? Didn't you say there was still one more session?" Anya blurted it out, then realized that meant she might never feel that exquisite sensation again. "No need to drag it out. I finished the cure today." He watched her, a smile playing at his lips. "Though from the look of you, you're not exactly hoping I'd be so quick about it, are you?" "No, not at all! I'm just excited, that's all." She turned away and got dressed in a flash, then said, "Stefan, I'm really grateful to you. If you need anything, just say the word." He thought for a moment. "Yesterday's food was great. I'd like to eat like that every day." "Leave it to me. You don't have to work like the other inmates." In this place, prisoners had to work daily. Idleness bred trouble, and trouble was the last thing a prison needed. "Good. I'll go take a walk." Hands in his pockets, Stefan strolled around the prison. The other inmates, busy with their work, watched as a man ambling around like he owned the place immediately raised their hackles. "What's with this guy? Why doesn't he have to work? Wandering around like he owns the joint." "Look at him with his hands in his pockets. Makes me want to knock him out." "Shh, keep it down. The guy's a psycho. First day in, he turned Milo into a eunuch." "What? He's that bold?" "Bold? Word is he raped and murdered more than thirty people. Total monster." "Damn. That scary? You think he heard me bad-mouthing him?" Once they realized who Stefan was, the lot of them grew jumpy. They kept sneaking glances his way, eyes full of fear. Stefan's hearing was razor-sharp now, and he caught every word. He didn't care. He moved quickly through the grounds, checking out the terrain and looking for spots to set an array. Before long, he'd made his way around the whole prison and marked nine places for arrays. The Soul-Converging Array utilizes the Nine Palaces layout, harnessing the power of nine to its fullest potential. It not only drew starlight from the heavens but also pulled in Fiend Energy from the nether depths. It could aid cultivation and keep out intruders —a true Heaven-Grade Array. However, it required a divine artifact as the core of the array to be complete. Stefan didn't have such an artifact, so he could only lay a stripped‑down version of the Soul‑Converging Array. He visited each of the nine sites and utilized his spiritual power to carve an intricate array of runes. Even stripped down, the Soul‑Converging Array demanded a staggering amount of power. When his reserves ran dry, he sat cross-legged and absorbed ambient energy to replenish the spiritual power in his core, then returned to carving. He repeated the cycle nine times before he finally finished inscribing the runes at all nine array points. "Rise!" He formed seals with both hands and gave a low shout, slapping the ground with his palms. At once, the nine rune clusters flared, spears of light shooting upward. The glow vanished in a heartbeat. Even if someone had seen it, they'd have thought their eyes were playing tricks. An instant later, an invisible dome formed around the prison, covering it entirely. In the sweep of his divine sense, the dome was laced with countless tiny vortices, drawing every kind of energy from all directions and channeling it endlessly into the prison. "At last." Feeling the thick tide of energy gathering toward him, Stefan smiled, satisfied. Now he didn't have to worry about running short on energy for cultivation. He returned to his cell and resumed training. This time, he was progressing noticeably faster than before. Soon, he'd completed a full round of tempering his flesh. When he opened his eyes, he found a layer of black grime had seeped from his pores. It was impurities his body had expelled through tempering. He took a long, hot shower, then returned to his cell to continue training. Elsewhere, in a high‑end club, Carlos strode out looking refreshed. Several hours had passed. He went through one girl after another, leaving them crying and begging for mercy, and he enjoyed a rush unlike anything he'd felt before. Even now, walking out of the club, he still had energy to spare. "Stefan, you really have a few tricks up your sleeve. Maybe I can get him to take care of that job? "Hahaha. This once‑in‑a‑lifetime windfall is finally coming my way!" he thought.

Chapter 8: Laying The Array

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