Chapter 54: Spark Prison (Part Two)

If one were to overlook the entire Spark Prison from the sky, its layout would bear a striking resemblance to the concentric-ring entertainment complexes seen in certain modern films. The entirety of Spark Prison is composed of countless interlocking rings.

At the very center of the prison, occupying the largest area, lies the detention zone, which holds approximately fifteen thousand inmates. Over forty percent of them are formidable warriors, alongside a small number of mages.

Nearly all powerful high-level criminals throughout the empire are sent here under heavy guard. In addition to conventional defensive arrangements, this area is permanently garrisoned by a troop of elite knights and a contingent of senior warriors.

However, their sole duty is to guard the prison, and they are not easily dispatched for other matters.

There is only a single access route leading in and out of the detention zone; all other directions are bound by impregnable walls teeming with traps.

Beyond the detention zone lie the warning zone and the buffer zone.

These two areas form a contiguous, empty strip monitored by only a small number of guards.

Behind this neutral zone stands another towering wall. Beyond that wall is the death zone, extending all the way to the outermost main wall. This entire region is densely packed with various alchemical traps and a massive force of sentries.

Once an inmate riot breaks out, the warning zone triggers the initial alarm, and the buffer zone becomes the frontline standoff territory. A large contingent of knights will flood into this area to drive the prisoners back into the prison.

If the inmates prove too powerful to resist, the guards will retreat behind the buffer wall and enter the death zone, where they will intercept and slaughter the prisoners using the four lines of defense established within Spark Prison. Situated in the midst of the Bilias Mountains, the defensive facilities of the death zone serve a dual purpose: aside from suppressing internal prisoner riots, they are specially designed to counter large-scale armed jailbreaks orchestrated by external forces.

Furthermore, the entry points to these zones do not align in a straight line.

For instance, if the entrance to the detention zone is on the western side, the entrance to the buffer zone will be on the southern side, while the main prison entrance is on the eastern side.

This compels prisoners attempting to escape through the passages to navigate a labyrinthine maze and cover a much greater distance.

Walking along these maze-like pathways, Huey's expression appeared quite relaxed. He looked like a neighborhood boy visiting purely out of childlike curiosity. Time and again, he would pause to look at something intriguing, wanting to reach out and touch it or lean in for a closer look.

The guard had to repeatedly remind him, "Careful, Young Master Dardanel, you cannot go over there."

"Why?"

"That is the trap zone. If you enter there, hardly anyone can rescue you."

"Then what about here?"

"Ah, this leads to a magical beast zone. Every night, we release certain magical beasts that patrol designated areas. These beasts may not be overwhelmingly powerful, but they possess exceptionally keen senses, making them excellent early-warning tools."

"I see," Huey shrugged.

He pointed to a small door not far away. "I suppose that is the cafeteria."

The guard sighed helplessly. "No, Young Master Dardanel, the cafeteria is on the other side. The place you pointed to leads to the magic tower and serves as the passage for soldiers coming and going. Aside from the main prison gate, this is the only small door used for internal personnel traffic. Of course, it lacks the tedious inspection procedures of the front gate."

"So that's how it is. Strange, it looks so vast here, but why haven't I seen any criminals?"

"You are currently in the safe zone, Young Master Dardanel. Spark Prison is divided into several sections: the detention zone, the buffer zone, the warning zone, the safe zone, and the death zone. The outermost perimeter is the death zone; once any prisoner breaches the death zone, we execute them on the spot. The safe zone is designated for sightseeing; it is still some distance away from the detention zone, which requires passing through the buffer and warning zones to reach."

"Does that mean I cannot go see those prisoners?"

"In truth..." the guard hesitated. "That is not permitted. As you know, Spark Prison is not a scenic resort. Despite the many nobles who come to visit each year due to its renown, unless absolutely necessary, the areas beyond the buffer zone are closed to all outsiders. Without the Earl's explicit consent, I cannot take you across. The safe zone was established merely to accommodate the needs of certain individuals, but guests have no right to enter the interior sectors."

Huey nodded. "I must say, this place has aroused my utmost interest. If my previous stroll was merely out of boredom, now I truly regard this as a rather fine sightseeing spot. I yearn to hear the prisoners wailing beneath the whip and to gaze upon their wretched faces. I am quite curious to observe human behavior in moments of agony. Perhaps I can appeal to the Count on the merits of that painting; he might grant an exception."

With those words, Huey turned and walked back toward the small white building.

Before long, Huey emerged with a beaming smile, a small internal pass pinned to his chest. "What is your name, guard?"

"Owen, Young Master Dardanel."

"Well, soldier Owen, your warden has approved my request. Now I am free to come and go as I please. Do you have any objections?" Huey asked, pointing to the pass on his lapel.

"No objections at all, Young Master Dardanel. But I sincerely hope, as you said, that you enjoy appreciating everything inside. Let us just hope it does not turn your stomach."

"How amusing, your warden said the exact same thing to me just now." Huey shrugged indifferently, casually producing a gold Viter and placing it into the guard's palm.

Everything unfolded precisely as Huey had anticipated. To prevent his painting from being reclaimed by Huey, the warden unhesitatingly utilized his authority to fling open the doors of convenience for him.

Naturally, the warden could never have imagined what terrifying scheme lay hidden beneath Huey's sunlit smile.

With the warden's approval, the guard naturally proceeded by the book. He led Huey to an inspection post and instructed him, "The rule here is that all outsiders must surrender all weapons and alchemical items before entering. Nothing that could potentially aid an inmate may be brought inside."

"No problem," Huey nodded casually.

Huey was not carrying anything of note, yet the guards remained meticulously cautious, unwilling to overlook even the slightest trace of suspicion.

When the inspection reached Huey's ring, Huey spoke up, "This is a keepsake left behind by my mother. I do not believe this trinket could pose any threat to the prison. I would feel deeply uneasy handing it over to you; please allow me to keep it."

The guards exchanged glances, hesitating slightly. One of them said, "I am sorry, Young Master Dardanel, but if this were an ordinary ring, it would be fine. However, we sense fluctuations of magical energy emanating from it. According to prison regulations, no items carrying magical energy are permitted inside."

"That is a blessing from ancient times, meant to protect me from evil assaults. It possesses no inherent magical powers whatsoever; if you don't believe me, you may test it. As far as I know, both offensive and defensive magical capabilities can be tested. I guarantee that this merely blessed ring holds no such capabilities," Huey pleaded persuasively.

"Very well then," the guard conceded.

After testing the ring and confirming that it indeed possessed no offensive or defensive magical properties, the guards finally allowed Huey to enter the prison wearing the ring.

Once inside the warning zone, Owen guided Huey around casually. Neither of them noticed how, at some point, several tiny mechanical bees had suddenly appeared in the prison, fluttering about in all directions. They circled once in the air and then dispersed in all directions.

Deep inside a carriage, the veteran prison-break expert sat gazing into a crystal ball. The reconnaissance bees observed their surroundings, enabling him to make precise markings on the previously acquired internal structural map of Spark Prison, noting the defense forces and rotation schedules at every location.

In his ear came Huey's clear voice: "When do you people usually eat?"

"Only after our shift ends."

"Don't you have to work on empty stomachs, then?"

"Not quite, Young Master Dardanel. We exchange shifts during meal times."

What about at night? Surely there is a midnight snack hour?"

"Yes, Spark Prison operates on a four-shift rotation."

"Which means a shift change every six hours," Iger muttered softly, making a heavy time notation on the map.

Following the guard's footsteps, Huey traversed the safe zone, passed successively through the warning zone and the buffer zone, and finally arrived at the detention zone.

Occupying the largest expanse of land, the detention zone is divided into three sections: the ordinary sector, the heavy-offender sector, and the maximum-security sector. The entire detention zone is arranged in concentric circles, ringing within ringing. As a prison for severe felons, Spark Prison drags out a batch of individuals each year who are executed by lynch law for refusing discipline. Many of them might not have had to die, but simply because they came to the wrong place and failed to realize their environment, they met with the most horrific variety of punishments known to the world.

Whether in the past, present, or future, a prison has never been a place to reform human beings.

If the heavily armed guards outside lent the prison an atmosphere of tense solemnity, the interior of the detention zone exuded only a chill of profound terror.

It resembled an otherworldly realm divorced from humanity: cages forged from refined iron, whips embedded with barbed hooks, gleaming spears, and the hollow echoes of jackboots striking the stone floor—all of which proclaimed the cruel and merciless nature of this place.

Walking down the spacious corridor of the detention zone's outer hall, Huey glanced at the inmates lying haphazardly on the ground, their dull eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Suspended directly above their heads were rows of spiked boards bristling with barbs.

"As the largest, most heavily populated, and most securely guarded prison in the Lances Empire, even the inmates from the ordinary sector are formidable figures when brought out here. They demand the strictest surveillance; relying solely on magic cages cannot guarantee absolute safety," explained Owen the guard, walking beside him. "The spiked panels above the cages are meant to deal with stubborn elements. There are always those who attempt escape; sometimes they even fake illness to trick a warden into entering before trying to rush the cells. For such prisoners, Spark Prison holds full authority to execute them on the spot."

"Further ahead lies the heavy-offender sector, primarily guarded by puppet warriors and flesh golems. These fellows are quite exceptional—they can stand here day in and day out without ever tiring. Unfortunately, they are overly rigid; they recognize passes, not people. I've heard tales of past incidents where someone dropped a pass and was mistakenly slain by the puppets, but fortunately, nothing of the sort has happened here." Leading Huey forward step by step, guard Owen continuously introduced the facilities.

Perhaps that single gold Viter had worked its magic; his attitude had become exceedingly attentive.

Puppet warriors might be rigid and inflexible, but they were the ultimate embodiment of duty: they accepted no bribes, felt no fatigue, demanded no wages, and would never betray their post. Utilizing them to guard heavy offenders was evidently an exceptionally sound choice.

Huey's gaze gradually grew cold as he stared at those puppet warriors. All his past memories rushed back into his mind like a surging torrent.

Indeed, these puppet warriors and flesh golems had originated from Purgatory Island.

Huey had once believed that all the puppets had been dispatched to the front lines, never imagining that Spark Prison would also house a number of such puppet warriors.

Gazing at the puppets before him, scene after scene from Purgatory Island resurfaced in his mind. Those bygone years were something he could never forget.

Unable to suppress the violent tumult of emotions within his heart any longer, he stepped forward and placed his hand upon the body of a flesh golem.

"Careful!" guard Owen cried out involuntarily. "Don't provoke them; the puppets have been programmed with counterattack directives. Even with a pass, you cannot make threatening gestures toward them."

To Owen's astonishment, the flesh golem made no movement whatsoever, allowing Huey's hand to rest upon its body and even stroke its face.

Feeling the artificial skin as coarse as sharkskin, Huey's gaze was filled with intense focus. He stared blankly at the flesh golem as though gazing at a lover.

Whose soul was hidden beneath the frame of this flesh golem? Cicer? Saker? Or perhaps some other youth?

Those youths—those whose names he could recall and those whose names he could not—their souls had become a fragment within these flesh golems, transforming them into the coldest killing machines, guarding this heavily fortified prison day and night.

Who in this world truly deserved to be cast into a prison?

The flames of anger burned within Huey's chest. After taking several deep breaths, he gradually regained his initial composure.

"Hell's bells, how did you manage that?" the guard beside him exclaimed in astonishment.

Huey's gaze turned increasingly indifferent as he said to the guard, "This flesh golem was delivered within the past three years, wasn't it?"

"That's right, how did you know?"

Huey replied coldly, "The empire made a massive breakthrough in the manufacturing of puppet warriors starting three years ago. Alchemists incorporated a new directive when crafting puppets, enabling them to vaguely assess human behavioral intent. However, this intent assessment operates through fixed patterns, which leaves it with severe limitations. Next time you wish to approach these puppets, remember not to approach from the side or behind; that will cause them to perceive you as attempting a sneak attack. Walk directly toward them from the front, keeping your movements fluid and natural, and they will judge you to harbor no hostility and will not attack."

"Damn it, are you a creator of puppet warriors? You're far too familiar with these things!"

"I once had a friend who spoke to me about such matters; he also possessed puppet warriors in his hands," Huey replied casually.

As he spoke, his hand—which had been caressing the flesh golem—slid down toward the creature's waist and abdomen. Under the cover of his body, a small metal plate slipped seamlessly into the core of the flesh golem.

Just like a tourist fond of touching scenic objects during a tour, Huey's movements were calm and natural.

As they moved from one zone to the next, touching puppet warrior after puppet warrior, small metal plates were steadily planted into the bodies of those mechanical guardians. In the blink of an eye, they had arrived at the deepest recesses of Spark Prison.

"Young Master Dardanel, I suggest your tour end here," the guard once more interposed with a request to halt.

"Why?" Huey asked.

"Further ahead is the maximum-security sector. Every inmate locked away there is extremely dangerous. I fear it may pose a threat to your safety."

"I thought Spark Prison was the most heavily guarded and secure prison in the entire empire."

"It is indeed."

"Then what is there for us to fear? Or would you have me return and tell my friends that Cicer Dardanel came all the way to Spark Prison, only to retreat in cowardice without daring to even glance at the prisoners locked inside the maximum-security sector?"

"Very well then, Young Master Dardanel, as you wish," the guard replied helplessly.

Passing through that broad corridor, Huey followed Owen into the maximum-security sector.

Unlike the preceding two zones, the maximum-security sector did not confine prisoners in iron cages; instead, it consisted of airtight, windowless cells constructed from thick iron plates.

Each dark chamber featured only two operable sliding panels—one for delivering food, and one for letting in sunlight.

To Huey's gratification, identity plaques were actually hung on the exterior of each dark chamber, marking the identity of the inmate residing within.

Guarding the maximum-security sector were none other than those creatures that had once filled Huey with bone-deep hatred—the fiend-spirits.

These short-statured figures with protruding, knife-like blade bones and ferocious, terrifying countenances had undergone immense changes since their birth. Following human domestication, they remained bloodthirsty and frantic, yet they no longer assaulted everyone indiscriminately, having learned to obey commands.

Unlike the guards stationed out in the open, they spent most of their time lurking in the shadows. Because they possessed the ability to evade battle-qi detection, had it not been for guard Owen's reminder, even Huey would have found it difficult to detect their presence.

This made the entire maximum-security sector appear superficially calm, while beneath the surface lay peril at every step and danger lurking everywhere.

No one knew how many fiend-spirits were concealed throughout this area, but Huey believed that should even a single prisoner manage to escape the danger zone, a swarm of fiend-spirits would leap forth from the shadows, brandishing their terrifying blade-arms to carve the enemy into ribbons of minced meat.

No matter how powerful or numerous the inmates imprisoned here over the years, not a single soul had ever succeeded in breaking out.

The defenses of Spark Prison were so rigorous that even Huey felt a shiver of alarm.

Yet what concerned him more at this moment was that after inspecting the entire detention zone, he still had not found the specific person he was searching for.

This left him somewhat displeased.

"Spark Prison, are these the only three places where prisoners are kept?" he asked Owen.

Owen pondered for a moment before answering, "In truth, there is one more place where prisoners are detained."

"Where?"

"The black dungeon, though we usually call it the disciplinary sector. It is specifically meant to deal with unruly, stubborn elements. They are the absolute extremes among the maximum-security convicts. We call them... super-dangerous elements."