Following his immortality, I emerged from the depths of the torture chamber. As expected of a generic medieval dungeon, it was buried deep underground, with countless other cells lining the dimly lit corridors. The air was thick with the scent of mold, dried blood, and human suffering.
Gut-wrenching screams echoed from deeper within the prison, some ragged and desperate, others eerily subdued, as though their owners had already accepted their fate. And then—silence. That was the worst part. The eerie calm between the agony. The stillness that only ever meant one thing: the end of another life.
I walked on the cold marble floor, trailing behind the so-called immortal king, my mind flickering with countless questions. The most pressing one being—
How in the seven hells was I supposed to kill this guy?
