Chapter 875:

His hands and feet were bound. The restraints, laced with toxins, drained what little strength he had left.

He could not change. He could not run. He could not fight.

And the people? They were relentless.

“Scum!”

“Evil devil!”

“May your soul rot in the nine hells!”

Their hatred was a chorus, hot as the sun beating down on him.

a reminder of how far he had fallen—from Great Lord to this, a man caged and

never chosen death lightly. But this public disgrace was far

past the line of guards. “You deserve justice

his cheek, hot and reeking of

tried to snarl, to bare his fangs. But all

was too weak. Starved of food. Deprived of blood.

the barrier between order and chaos was thin. Twice already mobs had tried to hurl themselves at him during this wretched procession, and now another waited

“Give him to us!”

“Hand him over!”

to die

a soldier shouted, trying to

But then it happened.

just for you

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