The boy squinted, blinking against the harsh light as his vision slowly adjusted. His triangular, rodent-like eyes narrowed with irritation.
Shapes became clearer. He saw the back of a young man around his own age—dressed simply, in the rough clothes typical of the lower races.
Ignoring the voice behind him, the figure remained still, facing a line of female slaves in their cages. The boy grew agitated, puffing up with spoiled arrogance.
"You there, filthy commoner! Are you trying to steal my pets?!"
Despite the shouting, the stranger didn't respond. Enraged, the youth rolled off the bed, slipping on sandals made of stitched human skin.
He strutted toward Ignyr with a sneer, raising a hand to strike Ignyr across the back of the head—only to stop mid-motion.
A slick, shallow pool of dark liquid had spread beneath him. From it, twisting black tendrils erupted and wrapped tightly around his arm.
"Ugh—monster!"
The tendrils constricted, snapping his arm like dry wood. With a wet crunch, the severed forearm dropped to the floor, spraying blood.
Screaming, the Draco boy tried to run, but his feet were stuck fast in the black liquid, rooted in place.
Ignyr turned slowly, his expression unreadable. A whip-like tendril shot from his palm, snaking around the boy's neck with choking precision.
"Crawl to the cages. Open them."
The tentacle tightened, a red line marking where it pressed into flesh. Dizziness overtook the boy as his vision blurred.
With no choice, he collapsed onto his hands and knees like a beaten dog, dragging himself toward the cages he'd once proudly locked.
Pain from his missing arm made every movement agonizing. Never in his life had he been forced to crawl like this—like a slave.
Ignyr, unimpressed by the slow pace, kicked the Celestial Dragon boy's kneecap with brutal force. It cracked sideways with a sickening pop.
"Aaagh! I'm going! I'm going!"
Tears mixed with blood as the boy scrambled forward, driven by raw terror. He clawed his way to the cages, leaving a red smear along the floor.
Fumbling through his pockets, he retrieved the key, his body trembling. With his remaining hand, he unlocked each cage one by one, dripping sweat, mucus, and tears onto the floor.
By the time the last door creaked open, his spirit was broken. He collapsed and begged on his knees, hoping the Avenger might let him live.
"Get in."
The voice was cold, emotionless. The command severed the last thread of pride the boy had. He nodded desperately and crawled into the cage.
Not only did he lock the door himself, he even panted and wagged his tongue like a dog, trying to entertain the one who'd spared the women.
He looked up at Ignyr, hopeful, desperate for even a hint of mercy.
There was none.
A sudden "Shigan" pierced his eye and blew out the back of his skull. Brain matter splattered the wall, and a faint hiss of white steam rose from the impact.
The boy died before he even realized what was happening, like the many slaves he'd tortured within that very cage.
"Benefactor… thank you."
The first woman he had freed, a young human girl with tear-streaked cheeks, reached out and lightly tugged Ignyr's sleeve.
The others—limping, bleeding, but free—approached and bowed in gratitude. Yet, when they met Ignyr's eyes, something in his gaze made them flinch instinctively.
Silence hung heavy for a moment. Then, one by one, the women stepped back and began to walk toward the exit.
But before they could reach the door, black tendrils emerged from the ground and wrapped around their legs.
"Benefactor… what are you doing?!"
The tentacles tightened, dragging them downward into what looked like dark quicksand. Panic turned to dread.
The black ooze pulled them waist-deep, then chest-deep. Their eyes widened with disbelief as they looked back at the man who had just saved them.
As the liquid entered their mouths, flooded their noses and ears, their tears turned inky and black.
In those final moments, their gratitude twisted into hatred, deeper and more agonizing than what they had once felt for the Celestial Dragons.
Their souls, drowned in betrayal, sank into darkness—forever cursed, unable to rest.
"Isn't that true release?"
Satisfied, Ignyr stepped out of the second room. Calm and composed, he returned to the corridor, scanning for his next target.
None of the women had guessed his true reason. Not one had imagined that Ignyr freed them only to watch them die with hope turned to despair.
He took pleasure in watching hatred bloom in their last breath.
Since losing his mother and Sabo, he had never felt more alive.
Elsewhere, in a nearby manor, lives were extinguished one after another. Flames roared, walls collapsed, screams and cries echoed in the distance.
It was music to his ears—a validation of his purpose.
As if walking on air, he moved fluidly down the corridor until a voice caught his attention.
"I always begged Father to see others as equals… but he only grew worse."
"…Mother…"
"Listen, my child, this is fate. The Celestial Dragons are being punished. Our bloodline will end in ruin."
"Don't say that. This isn't your fault."
"He's the patriarch. I am just a woman—my voice means nothing. I'm hated for speaking out."
"The Navy will come for us. Rest now, please."
"You too, dear. Try to sleep."
Ignyr stood outside the door, having heard every word through his sharpened Haki senses. He paused, then drew a deep breath.
With careful steps, he approached the door, then slowly pushed it open.
The mother and daughter inside stared in shock.
Ignyr smiled gently, shutting the door behind him as he entered.
"Let me help you rest."
__
As usual, Send Powerstones.