Lioran stopped. The dragging of Arezo's body came to a halt.
He slowly lifted his head, his cold gaze sweeping over the crowd.
"I'll count to three. Anyone here who's harmed innocent people… or taken money by force… if you don't step forward— I'll break one of your Guildmaster's arms or legs."
Eyes widened in terror and disbelief. Breaths caught in chests.
Their thoughts clashed, frantic and disordered:
'If I step forward… what will he do to me…?'
'Is he going to kill us too…?'
'No… I can't move…'
'I don't want that monster anywhere near me…'
Arezo's voice rose—weak, trembling, barely holding together.
Her words spilled out unevenly, broken, more like pained breaths than speech:
"Please… let me go… please… spare me… I'll do anything… anything you want… just… please…"
But Lioran's grip in her red hair didn't loosen.
Not even slightly.
His right foot moved—slow, deliberate—and came down on her lower back.
The pressure built gradually.
At the same time, his hand yanked her toward him.
Her body arched in pain.
"Let me go… let me go… stay away from me… just let me go, damn it… let me go…!"
Her screams came one after another—sharp, frantic… useless.
And over them—
Lioran's voice.
Cold. Flat. Unshaken.
Counting.
"Three…
Two…
One…"
Crack…!
A dry, sickening snap—like a thick branch breaking—echoed through the hall.
And then—
"Aaaaaah—!"
Arezo's scream tore through the air, so loud the walls seemed to tremble. A raw, soul-deep cry that spilled beyond the guild and into the streets.
Passersby stopped in their tracks, eyes turning toward the building, unease spreading across their faces.
"What's going on in there…?"
"Why all the screaming…?"
"Those thugs again… they've grabbed someone else… they're torturing her…"
But inside the guild—the space had frozen.
The adventurers trembled; some chattered their teeth without control, while tears streamed silently down others' faces.
No one dared to move.
Arezo lay on the ground, her body shaking as broken moans spilled endlessly from her throat—no longer sounding human. Not far from her, Siko lay with his shattered arms, staring at her. Tears filled his eyes. The sight of his Guildmaster's arm breaking had awakened his own pain.
In his mind, over and over, a silent plea echoed:
'Guildmaster… please… hold on…'
A short distance away, Anahita watched Lioran, her expression twisted, her gaze heavy.
A bitter thought formed in her mind.
'You damned devil…'
Lioran released Arezo's broken arm.
It dropped to the ground like a lifeless piece of meat, striking the stone floor with a dull, muted sound. A weak groan slipped from her lips, her body trembling on its own.
Lioran slowly lifted his gaze and let it settle over the adventurers.
"This isn't over… I'll count to three again. If you don't step forward this time, I'll break your Guildmaster's other arm… then her legs… and if it comes to it…"
A brief pause.
"…we'll see what happens to her neck. You don't want your Guildmaster to die, do you?"
At those words, Arezo thrashed like someone possessed.
Her body twisted violently, her nails scraping harshly against the stone—as if some desperate hope of escape still clung to her.
From the depths of her chest, a broken cry tore free:
"Please… let me go… it hurts… my arm— it hurts… please… let me go…"
Lioran looked straight into her fear-filled eyes.
His voice came out calm—almost casual.
"Don't worry… it'll be over soon."
He grabbed her left arm and began to lift it.
Arezo struggled with everything she had left, her legs dragging uselessly across the ground.
"No… no… let me go… damn you… it hurts… let me go… damn you…!"
But Lioran only tightened his grip slightly—
A precise, controlled motion.
Then—
He began to count.
"One…"
Arezo's scream didn't stop.
It filled the entire hall.
Yet no one moved.
The adventurers still kept their heads lowered.
Tears dripped from their faces onto the stone, but their feet refused to move.
Among them, a broad-shouldered man knelt, his large frame trembling, his hands shaking.
Hearing Arezo's cries, a memory suddenly surfaced in his mind—
Arezo, smiling warmly, reaching her hand out to him.
'You're huge… come join my guild. From now on, you'll be our guardian. What do you say?'
The voice faded.
"Two…"
Lioran's voice cut through him like a blade of ice.
The memory shattered.
Reality crashed back in.
He clenched his teeth, his fists trembling violently.
And before Lioran could say "three"—
With tears in his eyes, he pushed himself up from the ground and shouted, his voice shaking with fear and shame:
"I… I've hurt the townspeople more than anyone…!"
Silence.
All eyes snapped toward him at once. Lioran tilted his head slightly, studying the man. There were tears in his eyes—fear… and something close to resolve.
"Hm… so one of you finally found some courage…"
Arezo lay on the ground, her lips trembling. Tears welled in her eyes as she forced out a faint whisper.
"Achino…"
The heavy silence began to crack.
First, Siko pushed himself up. His broken arms hung at unnatural angles, his knees shaking—but he stood. As if refusing to fall behind. As if he still needed to prove he was the strongest after Arezo.
"I… I took people's money by force…"
Then, one by one, the others followed.
"I used to terrify innocent people…"
"I beat them…"
"I insulted them…"
It was as if none of them wanted to come up short in front of her.
Arezo's lips trembled again. Tears blurred her vision as her voice broke:
"You damn fools…"
Before she could finish—
Lioran pressed his foot down harder on her back.
At the same time, he pulled on her arm.
Crack…!
The sound of bone snapping—sharp and brutal—echoed through the hall.
"Aaaaaah—!"
Her scream ripped through the air like a blade.
The adventurers flinched forward instinctively, voices colliding:
"Guildmaster…!"
"Guildmaster…!"
Then—
Lioran's voice cut through everything.
Cold. Calm. Absolute.
"Relax… everyone will get their turn."
He released her hair.
Arezo's body dropped lifelessly to the ground, her face striking the stone. Her teeth clenched as ragged breaths tore from her chest.
Lioran lifted his gaze from her and fixed it on the adventurers.
Something had changed in their faces.
Regret.
As if they had only now understood the price of standing.
His voice came again—calm, almost indifferent:
"Since you chose to stand on your own… I'll give you a chance."
Their expressions shifted in unison—shock, disbelief.
No one breathed.
They waited.
Lioran paused… then continued:
"I'll give you ten minutes. If you haven't broken each other's arms by then… I'll do it myself.Your choice.Do you want me to break your arms… or will you do it yourselves…?Then, quietly Your time starts now."
The adventurers' faces drained of color at Lioran's words.
They looked at one another in terror—breaths uneven, hands shaking.
No one dared to raise their head.
"Khan… please… break my arms…"
"Achino—please… you do it…"
"Atina… Atina… please… break my arms…"
"Someone… please… just break my arms… I don't want him anywhere near me…"
"Hey! I don't care who it is—just do it! I'll give you everything I have! Just… someone…!"
Their trembling hands reached out—slowly, hesitantly.
Sweat-slick fingers, curling like claws, latched onto familiar arms and wrists—arms that had once fought side by side… once clinked mugs together in laughter.
Raw, animal fear spread across their faces.
A fear that drowned reason… and left only instinct behind.
And then—
The sound.
Dry. Sharp.
Bone breaking.
A body twisted violently.
A scream tore through the hall—
And before it could fade, another rose from elsewhere—louder, harsher… more desperate.
The hall trembled with their howls.
Outside, people stopped in their tracks.
They didn't see anything.
They only heard—
Screams.
Mad. Animal. Inhuman.
Echoing through narrow streets, racing along the city walls.
No one stepped forward.
No one touched the door.
Everyone knew—
Whatever was happening inside… was not meant to be witnessed.
Lioran watched them.
The writhing bodies.
The hands crushing familiar bones with forced desperation.
The screams that no longer sounded human.
His gaze remained calm.
Not anger.
Not excitement.
Only…
Satisfaction.
He gave a slow nod, as if confirming the result of some quiet calculation, and murmured under his breath:
"Good… that's it… keep screaming… just like that…"
Then he raised his hand.
His palm opened toward them.
And in that instant—
Something shifted.
From the adventurers' bodies… from the very terror shaking their existence—
Threads of black Qi began to peel away.
Dark.
Heavy.
Alive.
They twisted through the air like thick smoke, drawn irresistibly toward Lioran's outstretched hand.
They struck his palm—
Then sank into his skin.
A cold, almost intoxicating current flowed through his arm… down… deeper… gathering in his dantian.
Lioran felt it.
Qi.
Forged from terror and despair.
Cold… yet rich… pooling within him.
A quiet murmur slipped from his lips:
"Qi born from terror and despair… and this much of it… worth it."
A faint pause.
"It's been a long time… since I've gathered this much Qi."
Anahita's expression darkened into a deep frown as she watched Lioran absorb the Qi. Her gaze grew heavier, and a bitter thought crossed her mind:
'That bastard… so that was his plan all along. He wanted their Qi from the very start… that's why he went this far…'
She fell silent for a moment, then shook her head lightly, letting out a quiet sigh.
'Still…'
Her eyes drifted back to the adventurers sprawled across the ground.
'It's better than draining their life force… this is… much better.'
Lioran remained where he stood, continuing to draw in the Qi born of terror.
The dark current thinned little by little—
Until nothing remained.
Slowly, his fingers curled into a fist.
He lifted his gaze, looking once more at the adventurers—broken arms, tear-streaked faces, bodies either slumped on the ground or barely upright, struggling for breath.
A quiet murmur left his lips:
"Well… I suppose it's time to decide what to do with you."
Then his voice rang out—cold, absolute:
"All of you. Come here."
At the sound of it, their bodies trembled.
No one dared to disobey.
Through pain… through stifled groans… gathering what little strength they had left, they forced themselves up. Knees shaking, arms hanging uselessly, they dragged their bodies forward—one after another—toward Lioran.
They formed a crooked line before him.
Shoulders slumped. Heads lowered.
Low, broken sounds escaped them—more breath than voice.
At the front stood Arezo, Siko, and Achino.
Behind them, the others—half-collapsed, trembling, barely able to stand.
Achino's massive frame blocked the view like a wall, hiding the others from sight.
Lioran's cold gaze settled on his broad back.
"Hey. You."
Achino stiffened.
Slowly, he raised his head, his neck straining painfully.
"Huh…?" His voice came out hoarse, uncertain. "You… mean me?"
A quiet breath left Lioran—more impatience than anything else.
"Yeah. Sit."
"Yes… sir…"
The color drained from Achino's face. Without another word, his legs gave out beneath him, and he dropped heavily to the ground with a strained groan.
A thin layer of dust rose.
And just like that—
The line behind him came into full view.