Beneath the ruined royal palace lay a dim underground chamber.
The atmosphere here was dripping with the stench of blood, rot, and iron.
Marden Benton, wearing a loose black robe, stepped into the darkness. A crazed aura radiated from his body as his footsteps echoed faintly against the damp stone floor.
He had just dismissed the Magi who had delivered the report. It had taken nearly all his willpower not to tear them apart on the spot and bathe in their blood.
"Ugh…" Marden groaned, his hand clutching his forehead.
As the years passed by, it got more and more difficult for him to keep the madness at bay. And he also had to worry about his growing lust for blood.
Eventually, there would come a time when his willpower would become futile against the corrosive clutches of insanity. Until that moment came, he had to somehow endure.
"Ah, the smell of blood," he said as a moan escaped his lips.
He suddenly stopped in his footsteps and turned around, glaring.
