Dark and damp, everything was made of black stone. Strange howls seemed to rise from beneath the ground, and the busts on the surrounding walls looked as though they might glance around at any moment. There was no wind, yet the candle flames flickered. It was bitterly cold, yet there was no ice.
This was the dungeon of the Black Castle, where Gaormos, nicknamed the Shadow Demon, was imprisoned. Black thorns now bound his hands and feet, suspending him in midair inside a cell. Their black spikes pierced his skin all over, yet not a drop of blood seeped out.
Mulan leaned against the wall of the same cell.
"After I came back from the battlefield, I suffered from a serious psychological illness. I couldn't sleep, and I kept waking from nightmares. By chance, I visited a Holy Temple and met a priest. He taught me how to find peace of mind. That was the beginning of my friendship with Evan."
Mulan calmly told the Shadow Demon about his past with Evan, all the way up to the attack that had left Evan's fate uncertain.
"I thought Evan would only live on in my memories from then on. But you seem to have something else to say?"
Mulan looked at the Shadow Demon, whose lips were cracked, whose eye sockets were sunken, and whose eyes seemed to bulge.
"Hah... hah... hah... water. Lord Jonester, please give me water."
"The Black Thorn slowly sucks out your blood plasma, draining your stamina and even your magic power. Water alone isn't enough. It won't ease your thirst. Drink this."
Mulan raised the gooseneck pitcher in his hand and walked over, bringing it to the Shadow Demon's lips. He gently tilted it, pouring out a pale green liquid.
The Shadow Demon hurriedly struggled to