Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

Chapter 251: Crimson stump

Chapter 251: Crimson stump

The air in the dungeon was damp and stale, carrying the faint stench of mildew and despair. The faint torchlight flickered against the rough stone walls, casting long, distorted shadows that danced around the three men standing in grim silence. Alpheo stood at the center, his expression composed but sharp, his eyes scanning the dimly lit room with an air of dispassion. Beside him stood Jarza and Asag. Egil was notably absent, having indulged too deeply the night before in the spoils of their conquest mostly wine and maids that caught his eyes.

The servants, for their part, relished in being chosen , knowing that the alternative was far worse. Many had surrendered themselves to the likes of Egil and others willingly, if only to avoid being prey to the unrestrained desires of the dozens of soldiers. Egil had taken full advantage, earning himself a debauched night and, by morning, a splitting hangover.

Returning to the dugeon before Alpheo, chained to the wall, knelt the man who had once called himself lord of the city—Vroghios. He was a pathetic sight now, half his former height and robbed of his defiance. His once-proud armor had been stripped, leaving him in a white tunic. His hollow eyes, devoid of fire or hope, stared at Alpheo with the numb detachment of a man who had lost everything. Alpheo, tall and commanding, gazed down at the former lord with an almost clinical detachment.

The silence stretched for a long moment, broken only by the faint drip of water echoing from somewhere deep in the dungeon. Alpheo shifted his weight slightly, his leather boots scraping against the cold stone floor as the defeated lord stared at him .

Vroghios shifted weakly, his wrists not bound by any chain as his voice broke the heavy silence. "Is it time?" he asked, his tone flat, as if resignation had long replaced any hope or fear.

Alpheo, standing tall and composed, regarded him with the faintest trace of amusement tinged with coldness. "For your execution? Not yet," he replied"In a few hours, it will commence. I trust you've already given your goodbyes?"