The footsteps returned.
Don had been counting the minutes in his head, each one dragging like an eternity.
Twenty-three minutes since the last group of torturers had left. Twenty-three minutes of listening to Kael's ragged breathing, the drip of something wet in the darkness, and his own heartbeat thundering in his ears.
Now they were back.
But something was different.
The footsteps were heavier this time. More of them. And they weren't stopping at Kael's cell.
Don pushed himself up from where he'd been sitting, his body protesting the movement.
The mana drain had become a constant, gnawing presence—like hunger, but deeper, colder. His fingers tingled with numbness, and a dull throb pulsed behind his eyes.
[Mana: 175/650]
[Warning: Host vitals declining]
[Stamina: 6/15]
The cold, mechanical text flickered before his vision, then vanished.
Torchlight spilled down the corridor. Three demons appeared, their shadows stretching long and grotesque across the stone floor.
But they weren't looking at Don.
They were looking at Kael.
The cell door screeched open. Two demons entered while the third waited outside, holding chains that clinked with a sound like broken bells.
"Time to go, half-breed," one of them said, its voice a wet rasp. "You've got an appointment."
Kael didn't resist. He simply stood, swaying slightly, his torn shirt barely clinging to his scarred back. When the demons grabbed him, he didn't even flinch.
Don watched, his hands gripping the bars of his own cell. "Where are you taking him?"
The demons ignored him.
They dragged Kael out into the corridor, shackled his wrists and ankles with heavy iron chains, and began leading him away. Kael glanced back once—just once—and his red eyes met Don's brown ones.
There was something in that look. A warning? A farewell?
Then he was gone, swallowed by the darkness and the echoing sound of chains.
Don stood frozen, his mind racing. They didn't torture him. They just… took him. Why?
He didn't have long to wonder.
The footsteps returned. Faster this time. Purposeful.
Don's cell door slammed open with a force that made him stumble back.
Four demons poured in—not the torturers from before, but soldiers. Their armor was dark iron, stained with rust and blood, and their yellow eyes gleamed with cold efficiency.
"Move," one commanded, grabbing Don by the arm with a grip like a vice.
"Wait—where are we—"
Pain exploded across his jaw as one of them backhanded him. Stars burst across his vision, and he tasted blood.
[HP: 10/- (Regenerating)]
[Minor damage detected. Healing in progress.]
The pain faded almost instantly, but the shock remained. They weren't here to torture him. They were here to move him.
Heavy shackles clamped around his wrists and ankles. The metal was cold, inscribed with the same symbols as his collar. When they locked into place, Don felt another sharp drain on his already depleted reserves.
[Mana: 160/650]
[Warning: Additional suppression detected]
[Movement speed reduced by 40%]
The demons hauled him to his feet and shoved him forward. Don stumbled, the chains heavy and unforgiving, but he managed to stay upright.
They marched him down the corridor, past rows of empty cells, deeper into the dungeon's depths. With each step, Don felt the exhaustion settling deeper into his bones.
The collar pulsed against his throat—not just draining his mana now, but hurting him, as if it were burrowing into his flesh, feeding on him.
He gritted his teeth and kept walking.
Down one level.
Then another.
The air grew thicker, hotter. The smell changed—less mold and damp stone, more blood and sweat and fear.
Finally, they reached it.
Level Seven.
The demons pushed open a massive iron door, and sound crashed over Don like a wave.
Screaming. Sobbing. The clash of metal.
Guttural laughter.
Don's brown eyes widened.
The chamber beyond was enormous—a circular pit carved from black stone, ringed by iron cages stacked three levels high. Torches lined the walls, their flames casting dancing shadows across hundreds of faces pressed against bars.
Prisoners.
So many prisoners.
Humans. Mages in tattered robes. Knights in broken armor. Common folk in ragged clothes. All of them collared. All of them watching with hollow, terrified eyes.
And in the center of it all, seated at a wooden table on a raised platform, was Selene.
She cut into a piece of meat with delicate precision, her movements graceful and unhurried. The silver knife gleamed in the torchlight. She brought a piece to her lips, chewed thoughtfully, then reached for a crystal goblet of dark red wine.
She looked like nobility at a feast.
Behind her stood four demons unlike any Don had seen before. They were small—barely four feet tall—with skin like polished obsidian and horns that curved back from their skulls. Their wings were leathery and crimson, folded against their backs. But it was their eyes that made Don's newly enhanced body recoil.
Those eyes were empty. Not cruel or hungry or hateful.
Just… empty.
Like looking into the void itself.
And in each of their hands, they held swords.
Black blades, single-edged, slightly curved. And embedded in each hilt was a gemstone that pulsed with a sickly red light, like a heartbeat.
[Warning: Hostile entities detected]
[Threat level: HIGH]
[Recommendation: Do not engage]
The demons shoved Don forward. He stumbled down stone steps into the pit, his chains rattling. Around him, he could see others being pushed from their cages—twenty, maybe thirty people, all shackled, all terrified.
And among them, he spotted Kael.
The boy stood near the far edge of the pit, his chains gone now, replaced only by the collar around his neck. His red eyes scanned the crowd, then found Don's brown ones.
He didn't speak. Didn't gesture. Just looked away.
Selene set down her knife and stood. The chamber fell silent instantly.
"Welcome," she said, her voice carrying effortlessly across the space, "to your evaluation."
She gestured lazily toward the four demon swordsmen. "My lords require strong servants. The weak are… unnecessary." She smiled—that same small, sad smile that didn't reach her eyes. "So we will see which of you are strong."