For seven agonizing days, the wails and cries of tormented prisoners echoed from the depths of the dungeon, relentlessly piercing the silence of the night.
Even the seasoned guards, accustomed to the grim sounds of suffering, couldn't suppress their flinches as they stood vigil at the palace gates.
The air crackled with an aura of dread, a palpable testament to the horrors unfolding within the dungeon's depths.
Xie Jianshen's instructions were clear -- make the prisoners taste the fires of hell on their bodies, but ensure their survival. Death, he declared, was a merciful escape, an indulgence these traitors did not deserve. He reveled in the power he held, the authority to inflict pain and suffering upon those who had dared to defy him.
