Guh.
The old man swallowed hard, unsure of what he was truly feeling.
He didn't want to die.
I really don't want to die.
He used to have the name Tulls, and back then he even had a noble surname!
Although he was just a lowly nobleman from the lowest rungs of society, in an era when slaves had no names and commoners had names but no surnames, Turs was once a great figure with a higher status than them.
However, his family was later destroyed, his sons were all killed, and he who escaped ended up in his current miserable state.
But Tulls never gave up the struggle.
"I can't give up!"
If he can be bought from here, he will have the opportunity to seek help from others.
With so many nobles I know, and so many years of friendship, surely they could offer me some help when I'm in trouble?
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"We can't give up yet!"
"Anlia, my daughter, you must live! I will find you, no matter the cost!"
Unlike her sons who died tragically, her daughter was too young and posed no danger... No slave trader would kill her; instead, they would raise her and send her to be auctioned off when she grew up.
My daughter is still waiting for me!
Thinking this, Turs tried to stand up by supporting himself on the ground, but suddenly touched a sticky liquid.
What is it?!
Turning his head in horror, Turs saw a clean, circular opening from which blackened blood was slowly flowing.
!!
After a moment of panic, Turs realized that this was the guard who had been killed and beheaded by the strange boy.
"Because you want to live."
That's what he said back then.
Recalling the words of the slave boy, Turs's trembling hands gradually subsided, and he gritted his teeth and stood up.
It's just a dead person, isn't it?
On the day my family was destroyed, I witnessed too much death. What is there to be afraid of now?
The old man forced himself to stand up and glanced at the expressions of the slaves around him.
The dungeon, which wasn't very large, was filled with nearly a hundred slaves, most of whom were now keeping a safe distance from the corpses.
Turs knew what this meant; they were afraid of being punished as accomplices when the other guards arrived.
The other group, consisting of only twenty or thirty people, were also hiding, but their eyes revealed undisguised glee, as if they wished they could go up and kick them.
As for Turs himself, he had nowhere to hide, and no slave would risk protecting him.
He knew very well that after such a mad act as killing the guards, he, as the source, had no chance of survival.
He desperately wants to see his daughter again, even though he knows deep down that it's an impossible dream.
Do you resent the boy for his impulsive actions?
Turs didn't know whether he should hate the boy; he just felt that the boy had finally gone mad after his parents passed away.
creak—
The jarring sound of the iron gate being pushed open shattered the chaos and silence of the dungeon, and a figure carrying a heavy stench of blood walked in from behind the shadows.
!!
However, it wasn't the guard they had imagined; it was that crazy teenager whom no one believed in.
However, he looks very different now than before.
His expression remained calm, but his eyes, which had been deathly still, now shone brightly, filled with a strong will.
What changed even more was that his worn-out linen clothes had more than a dozen scarlet stains, which stained his thin body red through the coarse fibers.
His body was still thin, but the boy's presence was several times stronger than before, putting unspeakable pressure on the slaves!
Ning Feng stopped at the doorway and did not take any further steps forward.
He spoke in a voice that everyone could hear:
“I’m going to set this place on fire right now; anyone who stays here will surely die.”
Looking intently at the slaves, Ning Feng calmly spoke:
"If you don't want to die here, come with me."
After saying that, he didn't wait for anyone else's reaction, and turned to leave without hesitation.
wait!
"Wait a moment!"
Tulls hesitated for only a moment before staggering after him. He had no other chance of survival; this was the only option he could make.
"You... Ugh! Cough cough!"
Just as he was about to speak, Turs was so overwhelmed by the strong smell of blood in the stairwell that he felt like vomiting.
! ! ?
What's going on here?!
This smell is so much stronger than the one on the boy!
Looking down, he saw dark red blood slowly flowing down the steps.
How many people died?!
What exactly happened?
He paused, but forced himself to keep up, and asked in a hoarse voice:
Are you really going to set it on fire?
"meeting."
Behind Turs, some couldn't resist peeking out and following. Finally, a few slaves, unable to resist the temptation of freedom, were also startled and instinctively asked:
"But, are there still people behind us...?"
"I know."
The calm, indifferent voice echoed through the blood-soaked passage, silencing all other sounds.
"The choice has been given; they are the ones who make the choice."
"Some people, even if you drag them along, will still run into swords while praying and wailing."
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