Deep inside Pain's Nest.
The air here was thick with the sickly-sweet stench of blood and decay. The dim lamps, made from stripped souls, were among the few sources of light, casting twisted shadows across the ground, strewn with jagged bones and flesh.
After last night's riot, the half-breeds and slaves who had gone mad all day were gradually regaining their senses. Fear of the True Born Sons was slowly creeping back into their hearts.
Just as they were at a loss for what to do,
a figure appeared in the distance. It was the human who had been hunted by the True Born Sons' warriors yesterday. He wore plain clothes, his face marked by an indescribable expression and deep sorrow, as he walked toward them step by step.
The light in his eyes held neither pity nor arrogance, but something the half-breeds and slaves had never seen in Commorragh: empathy!
"We met yesterday!"
Alvin spoke. His voice wasn't loud, but it carried clearly into everyone's heart.
"I'd guess some of you resent me. You think I stirred everyone up and caused all this—that I pushed you into the fire. Is that right?"
The half-breeds and slaves surrounding him said nothing, but the resentment in their eyes spoke for them.
"I understand how you feel!" Alvin didn't reproach them. Instead, he affirmed their feelings.
But then his tone abruptly shifted. "Think carefully. Who should you truly resent? Me? Or you? You! And you?"
With every sentence, his gaze cut across the faces of the half-breeds and slaves like a knife.
No one dared meet his eyes.
"We are all walking along the edge of an abyss." His voice was low, carrying a hint of warmth. "In Commorragh, they tell us that pain is the only truth and fear the only