This is a dim dungeon.
Dark, damp, exuding the sour stench of decay and rot.
It seems like a corner of the world that has been forgotten and despised, where you can only hear the scurrying of rats and cockroaches in the darkness, and occasionally the sounds of beating, cursing, and the wails of prisoners.
As if awakening grievances and vengeful spirits from years of slumber, piercing one’s eardrums.
Suddenly, accompanied by the creaking sounds, the cold stone door of the dungeon was slowly pushed open, and several Judgent Knights escorted John, who was shackled with Magic Prohibition Shackles, inside.
Compared to a few months ago, Old John seed to be more disheveled, with his hair sowhat ssy.
However, his back remained straight, like a resilient pine tree, as if nothing in this world could make him submit.
"Mr. John, welco to your new ho."
The Eternal Priest who led Old John here said with a sarcastic tone, giving him a vicious kick.
Old John did not react much to the priest’s behavior.
He rely glanced at him with indifference, his eyes blazing with a fire that seed to hold a powerful force, causing the Eternal Priest to avoid his gaze, huffing coldly and turning his head slightly.
Nevertheless, Old John’s gaze did not linger on the Eternal Priest for long.
His eyes scanned the dim dungeon, briefly eting the empty and hollow gazes of the prisoners behind the cages, then brushing past the drunken guards, who were slumped like heaps of mud.
It seed that they had been in the dungeon for too long; even though they wore slightly better clothes, their image was not much better than the prisoners’.
"Stop looking, your place is here!"
The priest sneered, rudely pushing Old John in front of a dark cell.
Seeing the dark and damp cell, crowded with prisoners who looked at him with malice, Old John chuckled lightly:
"Is this how His Holiness the Eternal Pope treats guests?"
"Haha, at a ti like this, do you still consider yourself a guest? You wicked heretic!"
The Eternal Priest spat at Old John.
Then, with a kick, he shoved him in, closed the cell door, and sneered:
"Mr. John, I’ve ensured that your new cellmates will take good care of you. I hope you enjoy your stay here."
With that, he laughed heartily and left with the knights.
The dungeon returned to darkness.
However, with Old John’s arrival, he quickly beca the center of attention in the entire cell, as prisoner after prisoner surrounded him.
Their gazes were dangerous, and their faces bore cold smiles.
And their physiques were much stronger than those of the other cell’s prisoners, with many also wearing Magic Prohibition Chains, clearly professionals.
The leader of the prisoners was a burly man nearly two ters tall.
He looked at Old John with a cold smile, clenching his fist:
"Newcor, your na."
eting his hostile gaze, Old John smiled gently:
"You can call John."
"John? He says his na is John?"
The burly man laughed loudly, glancing at the other prisoners, who also burst into laughter.
However, as the laughter continued, the burly man’s expression turned fierce:
"From today on, you’re not called John; you’re called dog shit!"
"No, dog shit is not my na, and it’s not a positive term."
Old John said mildly.
The prisoners laughed even louder.
The burly man looked at Old John as if he were an idiot and sneered:
"Hey, I love disobedient newcors the most."
"Since you don’t like it, let teach you what liking ans!"
With that, he raised his fist and swung it at Old John...
Like Old John, the burly man wore Magic Prohibition Chains, clearly a professional, and to be the leader among prisoners, he must be extrely powerful, even among professionals.
This is because while Magic Prohibition Chains can bind a professional’s power, they cannot change their physical quality, and the stronger the professional, the better their physical quality usually is.
The prisoner leader’s punch aid at Old John’s face even stirred a gust of wind.
However, Old John did not dodge at all, calmly watching the fist co closer.
The prisoner leader’s smile grew more ferocious.
He seed about to witness the other party bleeding from a single punch.
Yet, at the mont his fist hit Old John, a faint light emanated from Old John’s body surface, and the prisoner leader felt like he had punched an iron plate, excruciating pain causing his expression to change involuntarily, crying out in pain.
Looking at his reddened fist and then at the unscathed Old John, the prisoner leader’s expression was full of suspicion and uncertainty:
"You... who exactly are you? Why aren’t you bound by the Magic Prohibition Chains?!"
"I am John, just an ordinary person pursuing the light."
Old John sighed lightly.
The glow on his body gradually faded, as if it had never appeared.
It was the power of the Divine Favor.
While the Magic Prohibition Chains restrained his ability to invoke the power of faith and communicate with the Divine, as a Divine Favored, the blessing of the True God was ingrained in his very being.
Unless other Divines could break the power of faith, the clansn could hurt him, but for ordinary non-believers and Evil God believers, unless they could wield sufficiently strong extraordinary power, they would not be able to harm him.
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