Chapter 12

A stone struck Cyril at the temple. Blood poured down at once, blurring his vision. He didn't wipe it away. He kept walking, numb. Cedric followed behind him, his back bent low. A lump of rotten meat smashed into Cedric's face, releasing a wave of stench. He didn't erupt in violence as he once would have. He simply stuck out his tongue and licked the filth from the corner of his mouth. It was truly filthy. But he thought of me. Back then, I had been thrown into the carcass pit, surrounded by the same foul smell. I had searched for my bone whistle in that place. Compared to that, this was nothing. The pain inside him intensified. His skull felt ready to split open, every nerve pulled tight as if by force. Cyril staggered and collapsed to the ground. The iron chain on his collar snapped taut, cutting into his throat until he could barely breathe. The crowd surged forward. More stones and garbage rained down. "Beat them to death!" "Use their blood to sacrifice to the Moon Go