Staring at the twitching face, Robert Killeman frowned.

He swept apprehensively over the braided steel cables, which had created terrible bumps and mutilated edges on his brother's scalp. The shaking of each extended steel cable was a torture for him, but Angrand seemed to have become accustomed to it.

He was still breathing calmly, sitting on the medical table, his hands on the edge, trying to keep his composure, but he couldn't stop shaking because of the pain between breaths.

"Hello, Angron." Carlil was the first to speak.

Now, only the three of them are left in the medical room, and everyone else has left. The command of the Lord of Maculag is absolute, and no one will disobey him in such an order.

“.”

Angron didn't answer, just breathed heavily. All of his wounds had been stitched up, and in less than an hour, they were all healed. However, the pain would not let him go, after all, he refused to use anesthetics.

After a while, he finally spoke, and his voice still sounded like two files rubbing against each other.

"I'm sorry." He said in a deep voice. "I don't want to hurt you, and them"

He looked up, glanced at Killiman quickly, and then looked at Caril, "Does he understand me?" ”

"He doesn't understand." Carlil said. "But I can translate for me."

"Please."

Before Angron could finish his sentence, his lower left eye and face began to twitch, and even half of his cheek began to tremble. As a last resort, he gritted his teeth and took a deep breath.

The butcher's nail in the back of his head began to squirm as if it were alive, and Killiman clenched his right fist violently, and an urge to rip it all out suddenly sprung up in his heart.

He had to admit that it was terrible to see his brother's life consumed by such a thing.

"Please tell him that I'm sorry for hurting those people." Half a minute later, Angron finally finished his sentence.

However, Karil did not immediately tell Kiliman, he asked in Nukaria, "Do you know what their relationship is with him?" ”

"I don't know, but they all have the same insignia on their armor, like the rope of triumph that we gladiators all have. And he obviously has a different identity, they all listen to him, I can see it. ”

Angrand replied quickly, his voice muffled, as if a little scarlet was coming out of his teeth from the bite of his tongue.

Carlil turned his head and looked at Robert Killman, "He's apologizing to you for hurting your four warriors. ”

Killiman looked at his brother, and Angron sensed his gaze, and raised his head again, his eyes scanning Robert Killiman's face and armor back and forth, erratic, but always not meeting him.

The Lord of Makulag sighed lightly and said, "It doesn't have to be so, brother, I can see that you are deliberately keeping your hand. ”

Angron looked at Carlil.

"He said, don't apologize, he knows you're keeping your hands but, I want to ask you, how did you do that, Angrand?"

"What?" Angron swallowed the blood in his mouth and asked indistinctly. "To do what?"

Carlil looked at him patiently and made a gesture: "Butcher's Nail." ”

He didn't say more, but it was enough.

So Angron laughed.

The way he laughed was even more terrifying than when he was silent, and the muscles in his face twitched, making what should have been a gentle expression seem grotesque.

"I've been fighting it."

The gladiator said in his mutilated voice, which had a quiet will that was the opposite of what he was at the moment. "It wants me to give in, I know. But I won't stop unless I'm really dead, and it doesn't deserve to bring me to my knees. ”

Carlil nodded slowly.

He turned his head and relayed exactly what Angron had just said to Killyman, whose expression quickly changed from gloomy anger to a vague shock.

Angron looked at him, taking in his expression, and his smile began to grow more vigorous and terrifying. It looked like a threat, but Kiliman could see the kindness in it.

"Angron." The gladiator looked at his brother and introduced himself in his language, his face twitching hideously, but his voice was calm. "My name is Angron."

"I know, Angrun." The son of the nobleman replied softly, Gothic and noble, but his expression implied a sense of sympathy and anger. "My name is Robert Killman, and I am your brother."

Carlil shook his head.

He reached out and placed his hand on Robert Killiman's shoulder, a cold blue light flashing in his eyes.

Angron let out a sharp roar, his body bent but still restrained himself. Kiriman watched in amazement, trying to speak, but there was a strange instinct in his body urging him to use another language.

So he blurted out, "What did you do, Carlil?" ”

"I taught you the Nukerian language." The initiator stared at Angron and answered Killman's question in a whisper.

"No, I'm asking—"

"-I'm fine." With his head down, Angron said. He gasped, the steel cable behind his head gnawing at him, and Killiman could see it, and he could even hear the faint squeezing sound.

"That thing is sensitive to psionic energy." Carlil said thoughtfully. "I guessed a few at first, and the information you gathered confirmed my guess."

"Then why are you doing this?" Kiliman asked at great speed.

Carlil didn't answer the question, he just pursed his lips, shook his head, and whispered, "I'm sorry, Angron. ”

"I'm fine." The giant with his head bowed said. "I'm used to this kind of pain for a long time."

Kiliman frowned sharply. "This hurts?"

Angron looked up and grinned. The face is hideous, but the eyes are calm.

"They call me Angrão Talco. But I don't like the name, Angeland is my first name, I don't have a surname, just like all the other gladiators. ”

"The Talco family is the owner of the Colosseum of Daishea, they own it, and the reason why they gave me this surname is just to swear a kind of sovereignty. I hated it, so I kept resisting. ”

"A normal gladiatorial fight takes twenty minutes to an hour to get those damn spectators to get catharsis. But I'll only take two minutes. ”

"Gladiatorial fights require me to kill, but I'm just going to get my opponents to give it their all, then take their weapons one by one and throw them into the bunker."

"Sometimes I fought with ferocious beasts, some of them were captured like us, some of them were made by the slave owners. I will put the former unconscious and the latter rest in peace."

"The Talco family was unhappy with me at that time, but for the sake of the money I brought, they still didn't do anything. Until Oinomouth and I plan to unite everyone to revolt against them before the next gladiatorial fight. ”

Angron paused for a moment, his heavy gasp, nails wriggling, urging him to violence. He stared at the floor of the infirmary, revealing an emotion that was very different from anger.

Sadness.

Even though it was so out of place on his face, it was there.

"That was seven months ago, and it's been the sixteenth year I've been in the Colosseum."

After the silence, Angron spoke again in a low voice, and he was able to tell about them. In times of calm, he still has the full ability to think, but he will constantly whisper and gasp between words, and the pain torments him, and everyone can see it.

Even a blind man could discern by that terrible voice how much pain his owner was in at the moment.

Killeman could see more, for example, that Angrand should rarely speak at length like this, and that there was so much evidence to prove it, the most obvious of which was the pause between each of Angrand's words.

He's not just resisting the Butcher's Nail, he's thinking about what it will do, and it's going to cause more and more pain.

Killiman gritted his teeth angrily. Didn't the nail even allow him to think, he thought?

"But the matter was leaked." He paused again. "A traitor, Leo Leo. No, maybe I shouldn't have said that he was a traitor, that he was a slave owner in the first place, a villain who had been planted between us. ”

A hideous smile appeared on his hideous face.

He told the Talco family about this, and the scheduled gladiatorial fight was canceled. I sensed something was wrong and tried to resist in advance, but the guards had already captured all my brothers and sisters with their silver vines. ”

"I remember that day, it was a sunny day, and they asked me to fight Oynomouth against two Oglins and I had to kill them. For the sake of the lives of my compatriots, I did it, and then, after this"

Kiriman waited in silence, unwilling to say a word. He just kept silent. Carlil was equally silent, only slightly different. He kept his eyes squinted, clasped his hands, and tapped the forearm of his left hand with the index finger of his right hand.

They demanded that Oinomouth and I fight each other, and that one of them must die." Angron said calmly.

He spoke of it in a tone that seemed to have nothing to do with him, as if he was telling someone else's life. But that's not what his face says, and what exists in that twitching, trembling, forced mutilated face at this moment is an extreme sadness.

"I don't agree." The gladiator whispered. "But Oinomouth agreed, and wanted me to agree. Maybe he already knew what the Talco family was going to do to me back then."

"We were taken back to the cave and then pulled out again, locked in a cage in the middle of the bunker. They put knives around Oinomouth's neck to get me to agree to one thing. I asked them what it was, and they didn't speak, they just took out a tube of injections. I asked them what it was, and they didn't speak, just scratched the blood on Oinomouth's neck little by little with their knife."

"I agreed, and then, when I woke up. Oinomouth is dead. ”

He stopped talking, finally.

His words left Killiman cold, unable to understand why the emperor's son was treated the way he did, and it was also a form of torture for the listener.

The narrator, on the other hand, slowly let out a roar from his throat, not knowing whether it was a mockery or a roar of sorrow.

Killiman saw that his brother had clenched his fists, and that blood was spilling between the fingers of those two hands. The Butcher's Nails were still wriggling, digging in, but their victims were rigidly bound with an inexplicable willpower.

Killiman looked at Karil, and he knew he had the answer. Carlil looked back at him, his eyes almost incomprehensible to Killyman.

"He was killed by my own hands. After that. I wanted to kill them all, so I tore through the cage and ran out, but I was stopped before I could hold one of the guards by the neck. The pain was so painful that I couldn't go on. ”

He looked up and glanced at Carlil.

"Psionic energy." Carlil whispered. "The Talco family has psykers, right?"

"I don't know what it is, but the pain is no different from the pain that glows in your eyes, just a little more painful."

Angrin and made a joke in his own way, which sounded almost like a reproach, but Killiman felt strangely that his brother didn't seem to care.

"You said you were used to it," Killiman asked in a deep voice. "They often torture you with psionics?"

"It was like that for the next seven months." Angelon said. "As long as I don't agree to play, I will hurt, sometimes I can resist, sometimes I can't. When I could resist, they threatened me with the lives of other gladiators. ”

"The gladiators didn't live long, seven months was enough for the people I knew to die, but I knew they didn't deserve to be treated like this. So I'll always say yes, but, at this time, I can't control myself very well."

Angron was silent for a while, and with trembling fingers, he said a number.

"Four hundred and seventy-one." He gasped in pain. "I killed four hundred and seventy-one people, I just remember that I killed four hundred and seventy-one people."

——

"I'm going to execute them all!"

Killiman roared angrily, his voice echoing through his own study.

"Just to vent your anger, you can play a few more mock battles with me, Robert."

Standing in front of the porthole, Karil glanced back at the Lord of Maculag with a calm expression. "As for the slave owners, this is Angeland's home planet, isn't it? Arrest them and leave them to decide. ”

"Where can he still see the bloody scene with his own eyes now? That thing had already had an indelible effect on him. Kiliman covered his face in frustration. I should have left sooner, and if I had come sooner, he probably wouldn't."

Carlil didn't answer his words, just twisted his head back again. He stared at the planet beneath his orbit, observing every detail that could be observed, soothing, relaxing his way of thinking.

Then he chuckled.

"Let's inform the Twelfth Legion first." He said softly. "As for the Butcher's Nail. It's not impossible. ”

"Do you have a way to fix it?!" Kiriman stood up incredulously.

"Yes." Carlil said. "But I'm going to go down first."

"What for?"

"Judgment."

The instructor of the Eighth Regiment replied softly, his voice as soft as a whisper in the wind. Looking at his back, Robert Kiliman suddenly felt a chill.

4.2K, 800 left tomorrow.

Seeing that some readers are speculating whether Carlil will give away some of his authority again, it is too vulgar to write like this.

(End of chapter)