"What the..."
The heavy door groaned open, revealing a new horror. The air that washed over Riku was thick with the stench of blood, sweat, and despair. This deeper cellar was darker, colder, and clearly meant for prisoners the Marquis wanted to keep truly hidden.
Inside were four figures huddled together. An elderly woman, her face bruised and swollen; a man in his late twenties, his arm bent at an unnatural angle; a younger woman beside him, with crude, searing brand marks on her arms; and a small boy, no older than seven, who was missing several fingers on one hand. They had all been brutally tortured.
Faint groans and the sound of soft, desperate sobs constantly rang in the room, causing Riku's mood to become violent once again.
"By the gods, Riku… even the children?" Clara, who had just woken up from her charm, was shocked. "What kind of monster would do something like this?"
"The kind that is about to pay for every crime that it has committed."
