Chapter 880 The Black-Armored Man's Past (Part One)

After Darren had separated the connection between the dark-spirit crystals and the corpses of the two ancient warriors, the turbulence in the Space Ring steadily calmed down. However, he still released his spiritual sense now and then to check on it. In time he found that the resentful aura in it was growing rather than dwindling.

Confident that the ominous aura could do him no harm, Darren did not give it much heed. Instead, with a mind at ease, he continued with his cultivation.

Seven days later, the man in black armor returned.

"When are we leaving?" he asked as soon as he set eyes on Darren. His gait and manner were unsteady; he looked weary and tormented by thoughts. The plan of their escape had been growing in his mind, and he could not banish his sheer excitement at the vision of freedom, nor his fear at the consequences of betraying his master.

Darren, on the other hand, seemed relaxed and indifferent, sitting cross-legged on the ground. "What are you in such a hurry for? You've already endured waiting for so many years. A little bit more won't do us much harm."

A trace of resentment came over the man's face. He turned his gaze into the hollow distance and grunted, "I've been tolerating my master's oppression for so many years because I found no way of escape. But now, finally, I have hope. A man will always find it hard to go on waiting when his dream waves at him."

Darren smiled, but said nothing.

After a moment, the man came and sat down next to Darren. In a slow and heavy tone that did not sound much like him, he began, "Darren, you must not lie to me. I had a very hard time in my past life and ended up with a miserable death. I deem it a blessing that I have had the chance to live again, although so far I have had nothing but servitude. I crave freedom. I want it so badly that I cannot restrain myself from

cept hope to escape such a loathsome sight. Really, if ever there was a hole that I could fit into, I would have long bored into it, no matter what beast may dwell there.

However, I'd only made it a few paces when the adulterer seized me. They held me prisoner. What was worse, they shackled me before them and made me watch their happy performance against my own will. At that moment, the pain of my soul was even deeper than that of the soul attack."

The man stopped and began to sob—not loudly, but nevertheless it interrupted his narrative for some minutes.

At last, gnashing his teeth, he made himself go on. "For three whole years, they confined me like an animal. Practically every day, they would torture me and make me watch when they made love. Gah, so many sights and sounds—to this day, the things I remember feel worse than death.

But as time went by, the recurrent torment numbed my heart and my soul. I could no longer feel any pain. I became like a statue without soul and without hope. When they found that they could no longer afflict me with their dirty shows and get excitement out of my pain, they snatched what little was left of my power and slew me. And that, sir, was the end of my miserable previous life."