In the dungeon where Heavenly Day never shone, the putrid air eternally echoed with wails and groans.
At that moment, beneath the firelight, the sound of whipping continued without end.
Hung from the shackles on the wall, the half-naked Minotaur was already covered in wounds and had passed out. Then a bucket of cold water was splashed over him, jolting him awake.
Then the cruel whipping and torment began again.
Only after the whip had broken did the ratman leader angrily toss aside what he held, return to his chair, and coldly order, "Hit him. Keep hitting him! But be careful—don't kill him!"
"I want him to wish he were dead!!!"
That venomous, chilling voice echoed through the dungeon. From the distant cells came choked, miserable cries.
"Stop hitting him, stop hitting him, sob..."
The pitiful, helpless kobold wiped at the corners of his eyes, tears already streaming down his face. "That's my own brother! If you have to hit him, then hit him... just hit him a little lighter."
"Don't hit his face! Ah, don't hit him there... sob, he's still single... My poor nephew, still in his mother's womb..."
"Wait, didn't you just say he'd been a virgin for forty years?"
The prisoner in the neighboring cell had been listening intently and noticed something was off. "Then where did his child come from?"
"This is love, what do you know! Love can do anything!"
The kobold was moved by true love, his eyes already misty with tears. "My brother and his childhood sweetheart grew up inseparable, but fate cruelly tore them apart for decades. The cow he loved missed him so deeply that she somehow became pregnant... As the saying goes: 'Uncertain of three lifetimes' vows, sorrow upon sorrow I bear; when troubled, my brow is drawn tight,