From the valley, from within a simple dungeon, came waves of pained screams.
"Ah—! You beasts! I'll... ah—!"
A man bound to a stone pillar trembled violently, his right arm twisted at an odd angle, clearly just broken with brute force.
His body was covered with countless small wounds, bleeding profusely.
Aurora stood in front of him, her fingertips playing with a knife as thin as a willow leaf.
She wore an expression of near-ecstasy as if appreciating a work of art in progress.
"Louder," she whispered, pressing the blade lightly against the man's cheek, drawing it slowly, "Weren't you quite capable at that time? Not only did the poison not take you down, but you counterattacked me, and that really hurt."
Aurora touched the new scar on her neck, her hands now more delicately slicing the skin and flesh, afraid that she might accidentally kill the man before her.
In the next room, several other sacrifices were bound, shivering in fear at the wails emanating from this side.
