The four followed the soldiers through rows of barracks built from gray bricks and black tiles, soon arriving at the drill ground. From afar, they spotted a figure drenched in blood.
He wore shattered armor, his hair hanging loose and wild. Shackles bound his hands and feet, their chains deeply embedded in the rammed-earth ground. Wooden spikes had been driven into every joint in his body, while two jade hooks pierced straight through his collarbones.
An officer was lashing the man with a whip, berating him, "Quiet! Damn it, you howl like a ghost every day. In such a hurry to be reincarnated? Once the Demon-Cleaving Guillotine arrives tomorrow, I'll personally chop your head off."
Armored soldiers stood guard around him with weapons in hand, their faces tense. Like hunters surrounding a tiger, they trembled with fear, ready to turn and flee at any moment.
"Crack! Crack! Crack! Crack!"
The officer swung his arm, turning the whip into a blur. Each lash kicked up dust that was clearly visible beneath the sunlight.
The prisoner, his hair disheveled and face caked with grime, struggled with all his strength and continued to howl toward the sky. He paid no heed to the whip striking his body.
From so far away, with the man's face hidden beneath dirt and tangled hair, Fu Qingyang could not make out his features. But judging by his movements, this prisoner whose roar shook the heavens seemed somewhat anxious.
His howls appeared to be an outlet for his emotions, but in truth, he was calling for something.
Was he calling for help from the enemy outside the city? Fu Qingyang passed the soldier leading the way and headed over with his three teammates.
As they drew closer, they finally made out the prisoner's general features.
"Fuck!" Ling Jun