The Exalt Cultivation Fantasy

Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 496: The Sweeper

Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 496: The Sweeper

Inside the steel cage, Oscar planted his feet on the stable, flat yet harsh steel stage and clenched his fists, cheers and bangs erupting around him from the prisoners as the fight was about to start. It felt familiar, fighting bare-knuckled against another inmate surrounded by a crazed rabble, a fond memory emerging from the wellspring of his memories. Long ago, he fought against John in the Abyss Prison as a part of his master's test. Staring around, he almost convinced himself his master would be watching intently from the sidelines, the same unreadable expression hidden under the helmet. Sadly, his master wasn't by his side.

'Wait for a while longer, Master. I will be there soon.' Oscar vowed.

"Where do you think you're looking?!" His opponent cackled, sticking his tongue gleefully. He swung his lanky arm, curling his fingers like claws, sharp, overly long nails sticking out like blades.

"Fool," Oscar swayed back, dodging the nails by a hair. His enemy lashed out widely, the steel floor screeching like wailing children as the nails scraped and scratched along its surface, creating long streaks. Oscar didn't retaliate and sidestepped every strike, his feet drumming on the floor rhythmically. Due to the effects of the grade-five transfiguration elixir, his body felt foreign, his physique not something he was used to. So, he weaved and moved, training his new legs and feet.

"Stop dodging!" His foe screamed, bringing his hands in from both sides as if about to give him a painful hug.

"You're right," After a short time, Oscar exhaled and stopped, allowing the ferocious nails to come close. His body was fully prepared and under his control, every muscle fiber bending to his will. He spun his body and extended his legs, kicking both arms away. Using the momentum, he kicked off the steel floor and punched his opponent, driving his fist into the jaw. His foe fell limply onto the ground, motionless and eyes unfocused.

"Cell A-4 is the winner again. That makes them the overall winner!" The prison guard announced, and the audience erupted into chaos, banging their hands on their benches and roaring in cheers.

Oscar stepped down from the stage and was greeted by the wide smiles and open hands of Alec, Louis, and Rolan. There was no harm in rejecting their praise, so Oscar high-fived them, ignoring the scared Edclet on the side. Resting on the bench, he wiped his sweaty face with his shirt and noticed Alec and the others standing before him. "What?"

"With this victory, we'll have five hours of torture and a piece of smoked chicken added to our lunch. If we keep winning, we'll live in luxury here." Alec bowed slightly. "With the four of us together, there's no chance of us losing." Louis and Rolan grinned widely, showing their teeth as their cheeks contorted, elated at the rewards.

"You call this luxury? You all are too used to living here." Oscar scoffed and ran his hand through his hair. From their words, he could tell they had become accustomed to living here, not a single bit of resistance left in their minds.

"We do the best with what we have," Alec shrugged. "I hate this place like anyone else, but what can we strive for in this hellhole? Escape? That's a pipedream."

Oscar didn't answer and turned away from the other three to watch the rest of the matches. All the Knight Exalts here had gone through horrific battles and trained their bodies to the limit. He found it a shame to see them all reduced to simple brawlers like children fighting in the mud, a far cry from their glorious past. Fred easily won against his opponent, beating him down to a pulp, and Oscar secretly pumped his fist by his side, cheering for his friend.

Three hours later, the fights ended, and the guards herded them to their respective corridors to return to their cells. Some guards chuckled and were lax, presumably the winners in their gamble, while others cursed and kicked, beating the other inmates. Huddling with his group, Oscar returned to his cell and rested on his bed. The lights faded into complete darkness as the cell doors tightly shut, locks clicking into place, signaling the start of the six hours of sleep. His other cellmates fell asleep very quickly except for Edclet, who whimpered like a dog, the sounds of him biting his nails clear in the silent dark.

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"It's here…It's here…" Edclet whispered, snickering madly to himself.

Disturbed by Edclet's cryptic words, Oscar rose from his bed and neared Edclet, who stammered and huddled away. The poor sap covered his mouth to hold in the wails, and Oscar backed away, wary of Edclet's outburst. That seemed to work as Edclet's loud breathing stabilized, slowly becoming more inaudible. Then, his whispers picked up again. "It's coming…It's coming…."

"What is?" Oscar asked, but Edclet whimpered and shut his mouth, hiding under the covers. Trying to get an answer from him was pointless. Oscar shook his head and was about to go back to sleep when his ears perked up, picking up a faint thud, and he turned to the exit, inexplicably drawn to the sound. The soft, faint thuds approached, and heavy pounds took their place, the floor shaking as if a small earthquake was passing through.

Something was coming. He looked down to find his fingers trembling, a cold numbness tingling on their tips. Peering out the cell bars, he couldn't see clearly through the darkness, but he caught sight of something humongous, a humanoid shrouded and walking through the corridor. The quaking came from its huge feet stomping on the floor.

Suddenly, it stopped before Oscar's cell. What appeared to be the head turned to the side and faced Oscar. Focusing his sight, Oscar witnessed parts of its features and was taken aback. A smooth metal helmet covered half its head. Metal spokes protruded from its bare shoulders. The bottom half of its head looked disgusting, covered in gnarled and mangled flesh, common aftereffects of grievous burns. Bringing its head close, it growled and drooled, opening its mouth with sharpened teeth, and Oscar met its monstrous gaze.

No emotion, light, spark, or gleam existed in the dark void within those eyes. It took a while, but Oscar finally noticed they weren't eyes. Rather, they were the absence of eyes, empty sockets left after their precious gems were taken away. The monster sniffed and grunted before backing away and continuing its ominous trek down the corridor, loud stomps reverberating again across the cells.

"What the hell is that?" Oscar mumbled.

The next morning, the cells opened at the break of dawn, and the guards funneled in, chaining up every prisoner for transport. They marched to the tune of rattling chains and bare footsteps into the torture chambers, lined up and hoisted off the ground like fish on a hook. Oscar withstood the torture even as the strange torturers poured scalding water on their skin, pierced needles into their fingernails, and all other horrifying tortures. After five hours, he was healed and forced to say the sickening words of betrayal under Maia Claude's seduction spell, forced to see Avril's image corrupted by Maia's.

He swore to himself he would kill her.

Exiting the torture chambers, Oscar went to the mess hall to eat an early lunch, a nice smoked chicken greeting on his plate for him to eat, another reward from yesterday. He ate with Fred and Emily, who had won an hour off torture yesterday as well. He asked them about the strange monster that roamed the halls at night.

"That's the Sweeper. The other inmates weren't so keen to talk about it." Fred chewed his smoked chicken slowly, clearly savoring the taste. "You didn't ask your cellmates?"

"I did. Alec didn't answer." Oscar sipped his small cup of water and swirled the droplets in his mouth, tasting like heavenly honey to his parched throat.

"You should take over your cell. I already did." Emily rubbed her eyes.

"I did as well. It wasn't hard. Just beat them all down." Fred concurred, smiling at Emily, who scoffed and turned away.

Oscar shook his head. "Keeping a low profile is best. I don't want a target on my back, and Alec has all the respect for a reason. So what is this Sweeper?"

"Can't say much. Some said it used to be a prisoner here before its mind finally broke, but it turned into a cold, murderous machine instead of a screeching maniac. I managed to find a man who was one of the first inmates, and he said it's always been here since the start, roaming the halls for anyone who failed to return to their cells. Somehow, it always found them and left a bloody gift in the mess hall." Fred explained. He leaned in and scratched his fingers on the table, speaking in body language.

'Your master is here. The old inmate said the guards were especially rowdy and cheerful, bragging about catching the disciple of the Pavilion Master. He's confirmed to be below us.'

"I hope I don't run into that monster," Oscar said while responding with his fingers. 'Is there another way below? Or is that elevator shaft the only route?'

"As long as we're all safe in our cells at night, it won't hurt us. Worry about our daily assignments." Emily joined in the silent messages. 'There are other doors. I noticed guards coming in and out.'

"Report for your assignments!" The guards barked and forced everyone to line up, giving each inmate a directive.

"Cleanup duty." The guard ordered Oscar to join a group of inmates. He went along with them, led by another guard into a set of stairs, forced to clean every nook and cranny while the guard read propaganda against the Blue Ocean Pavilion and the Brilliant Drake Empire. Scrubbing his dirty sponge on the stairs, Oscar glanced up and then focused his gaze down.

His master had to be down there.