Rowan locked Talanji in Snowforest Town's dampest, most dilapidated, filthiest dungeon.
Ever since the first human tribes emerged, wars between trolls and humans over land and resources had never ceased.
Prejudice etched into bone and flesh gradually grew into hatred amid endless war and slaughter.
Just like humans and orcs, they regarded each other as mortal enemies.
Rowan was no exception. Subconsciously, the sight of a troll made him want to hit them, male or female.
David lit a candle and pushed aside the straw on the floor.
Hearing the noise, the rats hiding in the corners strutted out and looked around. There was nothing furtive about them; they paid no heed whatsoever to the party entering the dungeon.
Neither prisoners nor jailers had come down to the lowest level in years. Rats and mosquitoes had overrun the place.
Within moments, Rowan had two large mosquito bites on his neck.
How were there still mosquitoes in weather this cold?
If I'd known, I would've put Talanji in an upstairs cell. But then again, showing mercy doesn't fit my image as the ruthless leader of the Second Fleet. I have to put her in her place and make her understand: confess and receive leniency, resist and face severity.
"Shoo, shoo, shoo!" Ellen waved his torch, driving the scrawny rats out of the cell.
A jailer brought Rowan a chair and set it outside the cell door.
Rowan personally scooped a ladleful of water from a bucket and splashed it over the sleeping Talanji.
She looked very weak, but Rowan hadn't brought home a wife. He'd captured a war criminal! There was no need to treat her kindly.
The icy sensation jolted Talanji's body. The dungeon was already freezing, and its damp chill seeped into her, making every joint ache with cold.