“Please,” he begged. If he had known this could happen, he would have done exactly as Elara wanted. “Don’t do this.”

Damian smirked, an evil smile plastered on his lips as he walked away. Just a few inches from them, a fire burned inside a large pot with an iron rod heating inside it. Damian grabbed the handle, pulling the iron out. He shoved it back in, waiting a moment before retrieving it again. He approached Charles, whose eyes were wide open in terror.

“W-...” he stammered. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you think?” Damian demanded before pressing the red-hot iron into his body.

“Ah!” Charles screamed...