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.

was a reminder of how far he had fallen—from Great Lord

death lightly. But this public disgrace was

“You deserve

saliva struck his cheek, hot and reeking of

to snarl, to bare his fangs. But all that came

too weak. Starved of food. Deprived

sides, shielding him from the worst of the assault, but the barrier between order and chaos was thin.

“Give him to us!”

“Hand him over!”

to die

soldier shouted, trying to hold back the

But then it happened.

just

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