The Sudden Appearance of the Gate of Foul Spirits (21)

"Has anyone changed their mind?" Ang swept his gaze around the room, his tone calm but carrying a faint impatience.

The Black Mages lowered their heads in silence. The air seemed frozen; no one answered.

The silence was like a heavy wall, cutting off Ang's words without even an echo.

He tilted his head slightly, and the guards beside him immediately understood. They stepped forward without hesitation and dragged a middle-aged mage out of the crowd.

"Don't move! Let me go!" the mage cried out, but his resistance meant nothing before the well-trained guards.

What followed was a merciless beating.

The dull thuds of fists striking armor echoed through the hall.

Blood splattered as the mage was beaten beyond recognition. He collapsed to the floor, gasping heavily.

Ang raised a hand, and the two guards immediately stopped.

Ang walked slowly over to the man and looked down at him.

"Do you have anything to say now?"

The mage struggled to lift his head, his eyes filled with hatred. Then, gathering all his strength, he spat bloody saliva at Ang.

Unfortunately, he was too weak. The spit landed only on his own collar.

Without a word, the guard beside him raised his hand and delivered two resounding slaps, knocking his head from side to side.

Ang sighed and gently shook his head, as if he truly felt a trace of regret.

"Practicing magic isn't easy. Very few people ever reach your level. Why insist on going this far? Isn't living a good thing?"

There was no anger in his words. Instead, they carried a detached sorrow.

Those words made quite a few Black Mages tense up, and some even began to tremble.

The prolonged imprisonment, hunger, and thirst had already pushed them to their limits. At this moment, a single straw