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Chapter 238: The Holy Land of Ferderica (1)
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... a simple wooden chair at the center, legs crossed, looking entirely too comfortable for the setting. The room was small, windowless, and stank of blood and iron. Instruments of torture lined the walls, each one grotesquely worn, some still stained with dried blood and scraps of flesh. Nothing here was for show. The air itself seemed thick with the agony of the many souls who had suffered before him.
Ketal took it all in, whistling softly. “Impressive. You don’t see this kind of decor ev ...
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