“Drop him!”

The second man said, dumping Arian’s feet on the ground first before his second could drop him from the shoulder. He stood closer to the open door, wiping sweat from his forehead like he had just lifted a sack of wood.

Arian lay there on the cold floor of the dungeon room, still completely paralyzed.

“We need to chain him up. This one is too stubborn, and there's no room for his escape. Especially now that King Stephan wants to be present at his eternal rest,” the man laughed loudly, like he had just made a classic joke.

King Stephan? Arian’s mind was swarming with thoughts now. Too...