Hot winds ravaged the blazing inferno, sweeping again and again across the blood-soaked clearing.
The scorched smell of burning wood mingled with the dry scent of dust in the air.
A tree trunk stood straight in the center of the clearing, Thorn's body wrapped in layer upon layer of cold, heavy chains.
Blood stained the ground everywhere. Dark red traces soaked the soil, baked half-dry by the hot wind into grim patches that were horrifying to behold.
Li Xiang knelt silently amid the wreckage on that bloodstained earth.
She remained slumped over her bent knees, her mind utterly blank.
Then...
Her numb, deadened senses slowly began to return.
She lowered her head, her unfocused gaze shifting down with difficulty until it settled on her own body.
Only then did she realize what a wretched state she was in.
Her once-clean dress had been torn to shreds. A vicious rip at her waist ran all the way down to her upper thigh, most of the fabric hanging in ruined, loose scraps from her slender body.
Layers of filth covered the entire dress. Old blood, dried black, and dust clung stubbornly to the weave.
The wound Thorn's nails had gouged into her thigh gaped grotesquely, its flesh torn outward.
The hastily wrapped strips of cloth were already soaked through with blood, wet and dark red, stuck fast to the exposed wound.
From head to toe, not an inch of her remained unharmed.
With her face pale and bloodless, Li Xiang looked like a flower crushed by fierce winds and raging flames, on the verge of withering away.
Her vacant gaze rested on her scarred hands.
I killed someone.
I really killed someone with my own hands.
Under the violent psychological shock, her hypothalamus triggered a massive surge of adrenaline that flooded her