As the fog of fear cleared and the dread of the first moments subsided, they lunged forward like ravenous wolves. Some pounced on the basket full of food, while others rushed toward Daniel—most of them women, as if the food meant nothing to them.
Suddenly, their voices rose in a single, contending cry:
"He's mine!"
But what happened next defied all expectations. Those who rushed at Daniel were stunned as he spun around with unimaginable speed, sprinting toward them with the grace of a seasoned killer, unleashing a new massacre—more violent than the last. He slaughtered them one by one with icy blood, with fiercer precision and the fluidity of a merciless assassin.
Meanwhile, the hunger had blinded the rest. They busied themselves with the basket, tearing into whatever their hands could grab, fighting over it as if survival hinged upon what they seized now. For them, victory meant a week's worth of food—of life.
As for the man who had previously spoken with Daniel, he stood at the back, the last to arrive. In his right hand gleamed a sharp bone, like a deadly blade. He grinned ravenously, watching them tear each other apart.
He crept forward with the subtlety and cunning of a contract killer, long accustomed to blood. Silently, like death's own shadow, he approached one of them—too preoccupied watching the fight—and stabbed him from behind as if cutting a withered weed. Then he moved to the next, slaying them one after the other with eerie calm, unnoticed by those ahead. The blood flowed silently, their souls slipping into the unknown without a sound.
When he finished, he stood tall, eyes fixed on the basket, saturated with arrogance and triumph. He laughed and said:
"At last… It's mine! After days of hunger, thirst, and torment!"
But his voice suddenly caught when he heard a whisper behind him:
"The dead own nothing… and Hell welcomes you willingly."
He turned in panic—only to see Daniel, his bare body drenched in blood, his face wearing the grin of a ghost returned from Hell. Without a moment's pause, Daniel sliced his neck in a single motion. The head dropped to the ground, separated from the body, shock still frozen on its pale features.
Daniel looked down at the corpses, at the blood covering the ground like a river of eternal curse. Then he threw the combat knife—still wet with fresh blood—into the untouched basket. He bent down and picked up the sharp bone lying beside the last body.
He emptied the basket, leaving only the knife inside—sending a silent message.
He tightened the rope tied to it and pulled it downward, signaling to those above that the cell had been emptied of supplies… and that its inmates had "shared" the food as expected.
Above, Marcus smiled in satisfaction, and ordered the soldiers to reel in the pulley, his voice dripping with scorn:
"You didn't take long this time… just as expected from the vilest criminals."
It was his happiest moment—as he watched the ropes spinning and the basket rising… but that joy was short-lived.
As the soldiers hoisted the basket, they noticed it was heavier than usual. They exchanged glances, but dismissed their doubts. This was no time for speculation.
The basket arrived. The soldiers lifted it, and Marcus looked inside... then froze.
Terror swept across his face, his eyes locked onto the horrific sight: a decapitated corpse, the head placed beside the body, and a knife still dripping with warmth.
The basket didn't carry food—it carried a message from Daniel: he needed nothing from anyone.
The knife was the final seal.
"I don't need a weapon... I am the weapon."
Marcus whispered, voice trembling:
"I must inform the king and queen at once. If the prince emerges from the cell alive... no one knows what might happen."
He took off running, pale-faced, desperate to tell the rulers what had occurred—while his mind churned with the blood-soaked message Daniel had sent up to the world above.
In the cell, minutes after the deadly silence settled, Daniel pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the blood from his body. He loathed the smell of blood, and the sticky film it left on skin. He cleaned himself, put on his shirt, and brushed the dust from his clothes.
Then he called out, his voice like a blade:
"You've been watching me from the cave… How long will you keep hiding? Come out before I come to you."
Moments passed before faint footsteps emerged. A pale girl stepped out from the shadows. Her long black hair was matted with filth, her eyes burned gold like fire, and though her body was full-figured, it bore the marks of emaciation—hunger had etched sorrowful lines across her skin.
She spoke with a hollow voice:
"Why did they throw you into the cell? Why did you kill them all? And why didn't you keep the knife to protect yourself?"
Her questions were rapid—seeking a definitive confession.
Daniel smiled, but his eyes were aflame with a different desire—
the desire for battle.
"And if I don't answer… what will you do?"
He took a step forward, raising the sharp bone in his hand, his face etched with open defiance.
Her gaze froze for a moment—then turned feral. She lunged swiftly, threw a punch at his face; he blocked it with resolve, but she followed with another blow to his stomach. He caught it, only to be struck by a sudden kick to his leg. He staggered back, now fully serious—he had found a formidable opponent.
This was no ordinary fight. Her strikes were precise, calculated, and fast. In a fleeting moment, he noticed a minor wound on her right leg—
—but what shocked Daniel most… was that it healed right before his eyes.
He said, with muted astonishment:
"Diana Krios?! I didn't expect to see you here."
She paused, her eyes widening. How did he know her name? Why did his voice resemble someone buried deep in her memory?
She sighed, stepped closer, and said:
"Nor did I expect to meet my brother—the one Saaka, my sister, carried in her womb during the darkest days."
Daniel froze.
"My sister?! I only have one sister... Elena! What are you talking about?! And Diana… wasn't she the one killed by her brother, Karys?!"
Diana nodded slowly, then walked toward the cave.
"Come inside... Even these walls have ears that hear, and eyes that see."
Daniel followed her, his mind swirling with more questions than answers...
And behind them, the cell remained silent—
but it was on the verge of revealing everything...