A few days ago, Elder Ye Wu Tian of the Divine Dragon Sect had been hanging in midair, all four of his limbs chained to the wall of his prison.
He had been brutally beaten up, blood pouring off his battered body in thick rivulets. His clothes were torn and tattered, having failed to survive the lashes their owners received. His head hung loosely as he slumped against his restraints, utterly unconscious. Ugly bruises and cuts covered him from head to toe.
Before he was even aware of it, the door opened and three figures strode in. Two of them were clearly guards, one with a sheathed sword slung across his back and the other tightly gripping a spear. In front of the two guards, a hooded figure silently glided across the ground, his features completely cloaked by his…well, cloak. The trio stopped a few feet away from the seemingly unconscious Ye Wu Tian in order to study him.
"Is that him?"
