Destined to Rule

"Let me out!"

"Send your clan chief to see me!"

Furious shouts echoed through the frigid dungeon.

This dungeon, built within the belly of a mountain, was cold enough to freeze dripping water in winter.

Even though none of the prisoners were ordinary people, they still found the cold unbearable.

Porfirio roared in fury for a while, but no one paid him any attention. Left with no choice, he sullenly wrapped himself in an old wool blanket whose pattern had long faded beyond recognition and shrank into a corner of his cell.

The many officials and generals imprisoned alongside him were far more obedient. In truth, they did not find their situation all that agonizing. They did not have the privilege of solitary cells, but that allowed them to huddle together for warmth.

Their futures might have been uncertain, but at least they were still alive. If they truly had the resolve to die rather than surrender, they would have fallen on the battlefield alongside the Church's holy knights.

"Bart, take off your coat and give it to me."

After venting his anger, Porfirio calmed down and felt as though the sweat on his body was about to turn into tiny shards of ice. Shivering, he called out.

Separated by a cell, Major General Bart was crammed among the crowd, his expression ugly. "My apologies, Mr. President, but we're too far apart. Even if I wanted to throw my clothes to you, I couldn't. Why not ask Lieutenant General Lucel? He's in the cell right next to yours."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Lieutenant General Lucel's robust voice rang out. "Distance is no problem. Throw your clothes to me, and I guarantee I'll pass them on to the President!"

"No. How am I supposed to know you won't