"Jury" - Mark Duna only heard these three words. www.biquge.info He couldn't maintain his suave demeanor any longer, he just stared coldly at the corpse on the ground, and the thunder rolled in his head, stopping him from thinking.

Then he saw Elio, the former prime minister, walking down the spiral staircase step by step with a blue face, followed by his attendants, whose faces were pale, no less than the dead on the ground.

"Your Excellency, Prime Minister. Mark took a few steps forward, only to feel the sound of his heartbeat coming from his chest to his head, and his whole body was like a cloth bag beaten by a drum hammer, and the soles of his feet were weak.

Hearing someone call him, Elio Parton staggered a few times and turned his face with difficulty, his red-haired and dead face looking like a dried corpse in the firelight.

"Here they are. The Prime Minister had never been so out of shape, and at this time his lips trembled, and he almost subconsciously squeezed out the words.

Then Mark Duna followed the Prime Minister's gaze and looked at the empty spiral staircase - not even a ghost.

But the sound of chains colliding with marble, the wailing of a wild cat like spring, the screeching of sharp objects scraping across the stone surface, the sound of heavy objects colliding, and the unchanging, death-knell-like footsteps are getting closer and closer, like a steel bar, pulling back and forth in the sea of spirits of all.

The Faceless Inquisitor revealed a bronze mask and armor from the light of the leaping oil lamp, as if hidden under the inscribed runes were not humans but monsters clad in metal.

Behind them, there were more than a dozen chains, each of which had a human head tied to it. There are those whose tongues have been turned out and have burped, there are those whose faces are mottled with blood, and there are those who simply have broken skulls and twisted their heads backwards......

The living screamed violently, and the sound passed through their abdominal cavities, and when it reached the throats, it was restrained by chains, and became a heavy, thin stream of air like a bellows.

Their bones were smashed and their limbs twisted together like sausages, and blood seeped down the top floor of the council hall like streams......

It's like a school of fish that are caught in the line and are dying.

And the beast covered in bronze, dragging hundreds of pounds of constantly writhing body, as if unconscious, mechanically moved forward until it walked out of the door of the council hall.

The guards present, the crowd of onlookers, and the ministers who were still questioning coldly just now couldn't make a sound, and they didn't even dare to breathe hard......

What the hell is going on...... A number of people had stood in the Place des Sovereigns in good clothes and with a good conversation an hour before.

All that was left of the building was a wailing, and the air with a strong fishy smell stagnated like a gel, lingering in everyone's senses. Under the dark red and black moon, this place is like an extension of the underworld.

Some knelt down and recited hymns and prayed for forgiveness from God. This act was contagious like a plague, and in an instant the people bent their soft feet and chanted like mosquitoes and flies around carrion, and spread throughout the Monarch's Square.

The Inquisitor was indifferent to the prayers of the crowd. They will tie human chains, tie them to the saddles of black horses, put their bronze swords in their scabbards, step on their horses, and gallop away from the council building.

The bound men were dragged along, and the pull of the chains instantly ripped off the neck bones, making a crisp cracking sound, and the wails weakened a little. The overlapping limbs and bodies fell and fell on the ground, twisting around like broken puppets, dragging long blood streaks along the way, which silently seeped into the ground.

Some of the people who were still immersed in the revelry and did not know why saw a team of ten horses, dragging a string of heavy loads, galloping down the Avenue of Glory, and the cries of the dying could not be heard in the noise.

The crowd, still immersed in the astonishing spectacle, went limp, prayed with tears, and bowed down as they marched towards Place Saint-Louis-Zeit.

From the horror moment of the carnival fall, no one knows what is going on. People blued and spread all sorts of conjectures, which had evolved into extremely frightening versions.

These nobles sought to overthrow the crowned monarch of the Temple...... The Inquisition facilitates the execution of them on the Day of Bliss......"

"They are ready to kill the king and the regent tonight, and the army is gathered outside the imperial capital......"

"They starved the knights who did not participate in the rebellion to death, and ate human flesh......"

"They colluded with the dark warlocks to sacrifice the imperial capital to the devil, and I heard that this was the case in Paliva in the south, and as a result, the ground was full of skeletons and bones......"

The Inquisitors, of course, did not hear the voices of mortals, but dragged their prey, like a ghostly ghost, into the night and into the Place Saint-Louis Zeit.

The wax of the lampposts in the square was lit, the light of the fire flickered in the viscous air, and a bonfire was lit, and people finally saw the true face of the things that were being dragged by.

Say "see clearly" - they can clearly see the bound body, the precious cloth has been dragged into bright red strips, the body is half naked, the skin has been scraped off, the pink and white muscles are exposed to the air, the hands, feet, and head are twisted together by vigorous exercise, and the long and short pieces of waxy yellow and red flesh are piled together, like canned sardines huddled together.

The individuals here were completely unrecognizable - the bodies were all identical, with plump bulges and limp black organs, and the heads in the pile of flesh had either been dragged beyond recognition, or hidden between the chains and arms, with only a small tuft of hair exposed, and if we were lucky, a few dead gray heads with sticking out their tongues and slightly intact.

The bronze masked man shook the people away with an iron chain like a fishing net. The bodies twisted in mid-air and collided with each other, like pigs on a slaughterhouse. Occasionally, someone would move and let out a slight moan, but the Inquisitor didn't care—the vigorous lifting often killed the undead.

They sorted about 80 people, one by one, and lay neatly on the ground with chains around their necks.

The Inquisitors crouched down - though the bronze armor made their movements look a little clumsy, they patiently untied the chains around their necks one by one. Let these more than eighty bodies all face up, and the necks are clean.

The living people knelt all the way from the Monarch's Square, and at this time they only felt that their souls had drifted out of their bodies, and the bloody scene just now had been digested by their weeping and kneeling all the way, and now only numbness remained.

They watched in silence at the bodies that were turned over like meat chops, and with each flip, they trembled, and the sound of the chains making their nerves tremble, as if it was themselves lying on the ground.

The four Imperial Council ministers rode over on horseback, and although they had been on battle and had their prisoners executed, the cold currents still ran from the soles of their feet to the top of their heads. Even the corpses lying on the battlefield and the charred and bloody soil were not as terrible as the neatly arranged bodies of the Place Saint-Louis-Zeit.

It was as if they had never been living creatures, but rather lumps of limp flesh.