She regained her sight—not open her eyes, which had always been open, except that she had fainted. Pen × fun × Pavilion www. ｂｉｑｕｇｅ。 ｉｎｆｏ

She looked feebly at her lower body, and saw that it wasn't too revealing without clothes—the hemp rope and scars had long since turned her most seductive parts into a hideous scar. Her face was also ruined, her short hair was half-ripped and her scalp was still oozing blood.

She smelled blood in her confusion, and she didn't know if it was the armored cavalry, her brothers, or her own. Her mind went blank, her body felt like she was soaking in a river of ice, chills and tingling pains.

It was a long time before she remembered that her name was Merry.

She struggled to raise her head and look around, and found that her brothers, like her, had all their clothes torn apart, and only a lump of torso remained, and her hands and feet were wrapped in an ugly mass of rags, on which was a thick layer of black blood. She tried to open her mouth, but couldn't make any sound.

At their feet, a cluster of flames made these few people with only their torsos left and tied to trees look like bacon sausages marinated in winter. The difference is that they all have their eyes open – some are awake, others are dead.

They could only whine in their throats, but they couldn't say half a word. They have hatred in their eyes, but they do not see the shadow of the enemy.

After nightfall, the howl of wolves came from the jungle, and the footsteps of the beasts drew nearer. They grew up in the jungle and know what that means. The rustling of the blades, and the low crunch of the animal's throat, got closer.

Those who woke up squirmed, but the twine knots tied them to the trunks of the trees, and the blood loss made them very weak, and only half of the torso writhed desperately, which looked very comical. There was no one around, and a look of fear finally appeared in their eyes.

The blood moon rose into the air, and the cautious wolves finally approached.

The first wolf to appear, it had black, sharp hair, like pinpricks, and its fangs were in no way inferior to the silver blade. It circled around the base of the tree three times, and found that the smelling prey posed no threat to them.

As a result, three or five pairs of ghostly eyes appeared behind the bushes, and the bellows-like exhalation became louder and louder.

On weekdays, Merry had a hundred ways to keep these greedy fellows from dying, but now she and her brothers, like a piece of pork to the slaughter, were bound to a high place, and there was nothing else to do but fear.

The wolf circled around, and found no sign of hunters or dogs except for the good flesh that was oozing blood, so he whimpered in a low voice. The eyes that were hiding behind the bushes were also getting closer—they were several black wolves that were also strong.

The head wolf began to climb the trunk of the tree—its sharp teeth just an inch away from the rag that covered the wound. It persevered, eventually biting off a piece of the hemostatic cloth that was wrapped around half of its body.

The brother's neck, shoulder sockets, and spine were twitching, and he was calling on the bones he could move. However, he soon came to a standstill, his chest heaving violently with his rapid breathing, and his eyes were wide open and about to fall out of their sockets—for his writhing loosened a section of the bound rope, and half of his body suddenly fell down, but there were no hands or feet to exert on.

The tooth-bared black wolf sprang up again and again, biting his broken leg so hard that he let out a rusty iron roar, but it was useless. His whole body shook involuntarily, and he subconsciously wanted to grab the trunk of the tree with his hands and escape, but the more he struggled, the looser the rope became, and he could only watch in despair as he fell little by little.

The wolves were encouraged, and they followed suit, pulling at the two broken legs with their sharp teeth and pulling them down. After dozens of reciprocating, the hemp rope finally fell to the ground, and the half of the body was thrown to the ground.

"Revenge!" The person who was dragged down by the wild wolf seemed to suddenly come to his senses and let out a terrible roar: "Revenge!"

The howls drowned out the excited whispers of the wolves, and echoed for a long time in the dead countryside, like the wrong knife when slaughtering a pig, and the dying wails of a bloodless and helpless animal, but there were only two words: revenge.

Eventually, the sound stopped, and the wolf pounced, his sharp teeth biting open an artery in his neck. Then the sound of chewing and the snorting of wild beasts lingered for a long time in the wilderness.

The wolves did not leave, and the bound people no longer dared to move, but they could not easily sleep. In the middle of the night, the wolves dragged the dead and the living down from the trunks of the trees, eating them until they were reduced to skeletons.

Merry shuddered as the wolf's snort spurted into her lower body, and she looked at the man on the ground who was torn to pieces, and her father's dying cry kept ringing in her head: "Revenge, revenge." ”

She used it to dispel her fears and bolster her will. Revenge gave her strength. Seeing the beast swallow the liver of her fellow human into her stomach, she went from being frightened and incontinent at first, and finally completely numb, as if watching a group of butchers put pork in their mouths, and nothing remained in her mind except the word hatred.

It wasn't until early in the morning, when several Imperial soldiers rode to the place where the prisoners were bound with swords, that the greedy beasts scattered in all directions, leaving a pile of broken bones on the ground.

Merry recognized the leader, who was dressed in golden armor, armed with a sword carved with a griffin, and a silver eagle badge on his chest, whom he was called "Lord Prime Minister".

This is the man who cut off her father's neck and ordered her and her brothers to be tortured, this is a vicious man, and perhaps the entire Southern Expeditionary Army, the King who sits far away in the Golden Palace, and the mages in the splendid Sanctuary are beasts in human skin, like the Prime Minister.

She had seen the tax collector kick and break the ribs of a fellow man and take more than thirty people into a dungeon, thinking that the tax collector was the most vicious guy in the world, and that the more terrible rumors, which had only been passed down from the mouths of her fathers, had planted the seeds of hatred in her and her compatriots.

Rumor has it that those who hold the power of the state will exterminate her people. In order to survive, to be free, to have a noble faith, they have to take up arms and fight against those who have forced them to displace.

She grew up in hatred.

And now, these people in her eyes were ten thousand times more vicious than the tax collectors, and she remembered the dying cry of that brother, and clenched her teeth, blood oozing from her lips.

The Prime Minister looked at her—no, at the dying captives, who were covered in a hideous scab of blood, kicked their severed limbs, stomach pouches, and foreheads with their steel boots, and asked fiercely, "Tell me the truth." Who the hell are you, why are you here, and have you ever met anyone else? ”

However, the Prime Minister found that none of these dying men had opened their mouths to speak, and there was no fear in their brown and black eyes, but there was a cold, sharp light—these eyes were like hateful, immortal ghosts, which made Elio shiver in the middle of the day.