9th Floor of Cloud Prison.
The blood has already coagulated, the corpses are being moved, and the shattered Yun Gang Rock walls are being repaired.
The guards are cleaning the battlefield in small groups, some in silence, some whispering, some still trembling slightly.
Zhong Dao stands with hands behind his back, at the spot.
A tall and burly cultivator, with a rugged face, carrying the smell of alcohol, hurriedly runs over and kneels directly in front of Zhong Dao.
It is none other than Wu An, the commander of Cloud Prison.
Wu An's forehead touches the ground, making a thumping sound.
"Hall Master, your subordinate deserves death! Your subordinate deserves death! Last night, your subordinate drank too much, drunk beyond reason. When your subordinate woke up... everything was... already..."
Zhong Dao looks down at him, coldly saying, "Last night, thirty-seven guards of Cloud Prison died, and one hundred and fifty-two injured. What do you have to say?"
