Correct
Wolfsbane sat comfortably, drinking wine as he watched the suffering unfold before him. The soldiers surrounding him were enjoying the torment just as much.
"This will be amazing. Look at your friends—they can't do shit, just sit there and watch your fingers get cut," Gregor sneered, standing beside a soldier who was about to sever Luka's index finger.
"Worthless—they may be, for now. But they are the truest friends I've ever had. A pawn like you could never understand the meaning of friendship," Luka spat, gritting his teeth, trying desperately to suppress his screams so his friends wouldn't suffer even more.
"What did you just say, you bastard?" Gregor's face twisted in anger. He yanked the knife from the soldier's hand and, without hesitation, sliced off Luka's index finger himself.
"For a thief who stole the General's cake and fed it to Matteo, you both deserve this." He proceeded to sever the rest of Luka's fingers, one by one.
Blood dripped onto the grass, each drop making a faint sound upon impact.
Another drop fell.....this time, not blood, but water. A slow trickle from a medical tap.
"Hey, Mom, how much longer until the doctors make you completely fine?" A little girl hugged her mother, who lay on a hospital bed, wires and ventilators connected to her frail body.
The woman reached out, gently touching her daughter's small hand and smiling. "Just two or three more days, sweetheart. Then, I'll go home with you."
"Okay, that's enough for now. Your mom needs to rest. Why don't you hang out with Daddy for a bit?" The girl's father lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the room.
"Daddy, why are we leaving Mommy alone?" the girl asked, her voice trembling as she clung to his shoulder.
"We're just giving her some time to rest, don't worry. We'll be back soon...right after we get the money from the car we sold." He spoke softly, carrying her toward a nearby café.
They sat down, and the girl ordered an ice cream.
"But, Daddy...… you sold all your cars and the things you worked so hard to earn. You didn't even tell Mommy. She'll be really upset," she said between spoonfuls.
Her father sighed. "It's alright. Don't tell your mom anything. Let her recover first."
"But you lost your business too...… How are we going to live?" Tears welled up in the little girl's eyes.
Her father leaned over and kissed her forehead. "As long as I have you and your mom, I can do anything. So don't cry, okay?"
Just then, a sleek black car pulled up outside the café. A man in a black suit stepped out, carrying a suitcase.
The girl didn't notice, but her father did. The suited man sat down across from them, sliding the suitcase across the table.
"This is all the money I promised," he said.
"Thanks. I appreciate it," the father replied, pulling the suitcase closer.
The man smirked. "I can't believe this. A business tycoon like you, throwing everything away for a worthless woman. If you had left her, you could have had women like her at your feet. But instead, you chose her over your wealth."
"Watch your mouth, you bastard," the father growled, slamming his palm against the suitcase with a loud thud. The café fell silent, all eyes on them. Realizing the scene he was causing, he slowly withdrew his hand, lowering his gaze.
The man scoffed. "Fine, whatever. But remember who's rich and who's poor now." With that, he stood up and left.
"Daddy…...." The little girl buried her face in his shoulder, sobbing.
Her father tried to comfort her, holding her tightly in one arm while gripping the suitcase in the other.
As they stepped out of the café, a man in a black demon mask with large, jagged teeth lurked in the shadows.
The moment they stepped onto the sidewalk, the masked man lunged at them, shoulder-checking the father.
Instinct took over—rather than hold onto the suitcase, the father let it go and focused on protecting his daughter.
The masked man caught the suitcase mid-air and bolted.
The little girl screamed as her father hit the pavement, blood trickling from his head.
"No! Daddy! Are you okay?" She shook him, her tiny hands stained red.
The father groaned, struggling to sit up, his vision spinning. "No…... no, please! Give it back! That's not just money—that's my wife's life! Please, I'm begging you! If you want money, I'll give you everything I have later, but not this! I need it for my wife's hospital bills!" His voice broke into sobs as he clutched his crying daughter.
The thief never looked back.
He crossed the street and disappeared into the night.
In a grimy alley filled with drug addicts and gamblers, where women lay drunk on the pavement, the masked man finally stopped. He pulled off his mask.
Luka stood outside a dungeon that looked like the mouth of death itself, staring down at his severed fingers.it has a symbol on it( ℏ ) on the dungeon.
"This is the Dungeon of Death. I want you to clear it and bring me the prize. I don't care if you live or die. The only thing that matters is the prize," Wolfsbane said, taking another sip of his wine, watching from the entrance.
Livio and his group had no choice but to enter.
Nicolas clenched his fists, his rage barely contained as he glanced at his battered friends.
"What are we? We did everything until this point to keep each other alive. We've lost eyes, arms, fingers, our freedom..… all for what?" He gritted his teeth. "Please, Oliver...… Ethan..… hurry."
With no other option, Nicolas and the group marched into the cave while Wolfsbane and his soldiers watched from outside.
As they walked deeper, Alaric's eyes caught something in the evening glow... a group of birds pushing one of their own from a tree.
A gust of cold wind blew through his hair.
He stood still for a moment. Then, without a word, he lowered his head and kept walking.
The cave grew darker. Pitch black.
The only sound was the echo of their footsteps.
Then, suddenly—a faint light. A small, flickering glow in the void.
A tiny ray of hope.
"That bastard…... I'm going to fucking kill them. I'll kill them all….." Oliver sat under a lamp, gripping a book so tightly his knuckles turned white.
A sudden burst of energy radiated from him, his Pbv activating in an instant. The animals in the forest scattered, sensing the overwhelming bloodlust.
"Calm down," Ethan said, shaking Oliver's shoulders.
"Move." Oliver shoved Ethan to the ground and bolted toward the palace.
"You idiot! You'll make the situation worse!" Ethan growled, activating his own Pbv and dashing after him.
The sudden disturbance sent birds flying from the forest near the army palace.
Shin, who was sitting near the waterfall, turned his head. "What was that?"
Back in the woods, Ethan tackled Oliver, pinning him down.
"I told you to calm the hell down!"
Oliver panted heavily, his chest rising and falling in erratic bursts.
"Do you have a better plan?" he finally muttered, his fists trembling.
"Yes. But I need you for it to work. Not this reckless Oliver—the real Oliver. The calm and composed one." Ethan released his grip.
Oliver stood, pacing back and forth, trying to steady his breathing.
"Alright," he exhaled. "What do we need to do?"
Ethan smiled.