Baroness Mugwort vanished. Her body evaporated into the ether as nothingness swelled around her, removing her degenerate existence from the world. As her death came into being, a disconnect formed among the impish demons below, their actions turning erratic and far more mindless. This shift made them susceptible to the mercenaries and freed captives, their fury erupting and swallowing them whole, leaving nothing but desecrated flesh and gore littering the ground.

  Priscilla descended, the light around her body unfurling like the blooming of a cocoon. Ethereal strands swirled around her and melted into her flesh, revealing her black gown as it fluttered. She stepped onto the earth, lightheaded, but her steps landed firmly, holding her up before the freed men before her. She looked over them, a faint smile accentuating her weary face. "You've fought well," she said.

  "What they've put you through was arduous, but you've endured the hardships. And from it, you've shown them that humanity is not mere fodder to fill their troughs with."

  The men who had endured the countless humiliations squeezed out from their being knelt before Priscilla, heads lowered as their eyes reddened, tears flowing.

  "We thank the Divine!" Several men spoke through choked sobs.

  Their heads slammed against the ground before one man raised his head and stared stubbornly at Priscilla, with blood trickling down his forehead. "Divine, please. We beg you to save our loved ones! Those beasts separated us when they came. Forced us to watch as they took our wives and daughters, their fates unknown to us as they wrung our lifeforce day after day."

  "What?" Priscilla asked. "Jens, go take a group and search the town!"

  "Yes!" Jensen replied with a serious expression.

  The mercenaries began searching through the town, scouring through the debris and rubble and searching through the remnant buildings that lay intact, forming a natural barrier around the torture pits in the town's center.

  All around the mercenaries, the carnage piled up, causing their search to persist well into the night as chilling nocturnal wind nipped at their faces. They approached their limits, weariness consuming them, but also the dejectedness of being unable to find the unfortunate souls confined by the demons' treacheries.

  One of the groups searched deep in the eastern parts of the land, frustration overwhelming them. Everything remained destitute, a shadow of what a town within the empire should be like. The glory of countless years turned into misery for its people. It didn't take long before one of the mercenaries, in his agitation, slammed his boot against one of the disjointed walls that stood disconnected from its building. With a jarring thud, the wall slammed down, fragmenting into chunks and scattering down a narrow tunnel hidden behind it.

  "Damned burrowing rats! Hurry, go summon the Duchess!" The man commanded as one of his companions rushed toward Priscilla's location.

  The mercenaries set up a perimeter around the tunnel as they awaited. Priscilla and the others joined them after some time, staring into the dark depths of the underground path.

  "It reminds you of Blackthorn, doesn't it?" Jensen asked.

  "Mhm. It does. If it's another Skriythe brood... it won't be a good sign for the captured." Priscilla replied with a frown. "Let's hurry. If we're fortunate, we may still be able to save some of them."

  "I'll lead. We don't want to fall into an ambush if more of those wretched imps scurry about." Jensen said.

  As the group descended into the tunnel, the putrid stench of blood and flesh overwhelmed their senses. The dark soil's surface was lathered in a viscous and fleshy blood-soaked hue that grew thicker the further they descended.

  Gurgling and scraping echoed from the depths, ominous and rhythmic. Slam after slam, against metal and wood.

  "Stay vigilant..." Priscilla said, her sharp senses blaring with alarm.

  "What in starlight are those sounds?" Jensen muttered as he clenched his hands around his waraxe.

  Whimpers and moans, irate and pained, gnawing against the tight and narrow underground corridor. Each sound clutched at the group's descent, forcing them to tense and slow their journey warily as they readied themselves for an ambush.

  As the darkness below swelled, Priscilla set the place alight, embers swirling around like dimly lit fireflies in the night sky. Their golden-orange hues bounced off the bloodied soil, casting warmth upon the chilling sights that persisted seemingly endlessly.

  Step after step, their hopes dwindled as the stench magnified tremendously. The visceral sensation of death and rot piled up atop their shoulders, baring down upon the group.

  Finally, the path broadened as they reached the end into a spacious opening that could accommodate the group's advance without limit. Torches flickered with an eerie dull orange hue that washed over the walls. On the ground, flesh piled into mounds as tall as any man in the group. From within the flesh, gurgling noises echoed through the space, stirring a chill that surged through the mercenaries' backs.

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  The group approached the flesh with Jensen at the forefront and Priscilla behind him. As their steps neared one of the mounds, a bulbous creature of flesh stretched out from within, extending a meaty tendril toward Jensen. It whipped slowly, and Jensen outstretched his hand and grabbed it, pulling the creature out from the mound and slamming it against the ground.

  "What is this damned thing?" Jensen muttered as he faced the creature with disgust across his face. He raised his waraxe, but before he could chop it down, the wounded beast let loose a barrage of shrill whimpers.

  "Wait, Jens!" Priscilla said. Stepping in front of him and kneeling beside the creature.

  The bulbous flesh writhed on the ground, its body moving like congealed liquid. From the center of its body, two beady blackened eyes squirmed, focusing on Priscilla as they set their sights on her.

  "Aam..." The creature gurgled from its mass.

  Priscilla's thoughts moved as she placed her hand on the creature, a white light radiating dimly off her palm. This caused the creature to jerk and spasm in an attempt to separate from the woman.

  "Maahm..." It cried, its deformed vocal cords squeezing each sound out with raw desperation.

  The white light glowed brighter, encompassing the flesh with its warm glow. Priscilla looked at it with a frown. "Speak."

  Jensen and the mercenaries looked at her back with confusion. Was it not another demon abomination before them? A thought crossed their minds, but it surely couldn't be.

  "Maahm...aah... maama... mama..."

  One of the mercenaries wretched as the sound cut through the open space. Bile covered the ground before his feet. Near him, several knees thudded against the soil as the townspeople dropped, their faces disfigured into gruesome silent wails as they clawed at their faces.

  The sounds stirred the fleshy mounds as dozens of bulbous growths wriggled free from them, squirming toward the light and the group.

  Jensen slammed his waraxe down, striking the soil with all his might. "Pris! They're..."

  "I know, Jens!" Priscilla replied flatly, her hand still on the first creature's body. She frowned; no matter how she intensified the power, it could not cleanse the demonic filth. "It's too late..." Priscilla muttered.

  Sobs thundered as the men broke down. "My child!" Snot seeped from one man's face as he slammed his head against the soil.

  "Paaah...paah..." The creature gurgled from its mutilated vocal cords.

  Priscilla's brows furrowed, anger swelling within her core. A fiery crimson blaze began to spread from her palms as it covered the creature in its flaming fury and the mounds of flesh that covered the spacious underground cavern.

  "What do you think you're doing!?" One of the men screamed, scrambling to his feet as he tried to reach Priscilla.

  Azhir stepped forward and stopped the man in his tracks. His pained grunts were like a blade wound that cut deep into the hearts of those present, but Priscilla ignored it.

  She continued spreading the flames until it covered every stretch of land where the mutated flesh writhed.

  "Stop it! Those are our daughters, our wives. Our families that you're burning!" The man cried as he pushed against the stalwart Azhir. "Stop, you damned witch! You're as foul as the demonic beasts that lay waste to us!"

  Azhir struck. Sending the man rolling across the ground as blood dripped from his nose. "You cannot speak to the Lady like that, even if you're angry! Do you think none of us realize what's happening here!?"

  "Enough, Azhir," Priscilla said coldly before turning to the bleeding man. "I am a witch. What of it? Would you rather they squirm and suffer until they fully turn into wretched abominations that hunger for flesh. Or would you rather let them rest and be freed from the cruelty?"

  "If you cannot handle it, leave. Run as far as you can and never turn back. Or, if you are brave and willing, endure. Endure this terrible sight, ingrain it into your mind, and fight."

  With those words uttered, Priscilla's flames erupted. Swallowing the area in a searing blaze that consumed the mutated flesh creatures in a painless finality. She could see that their transformation was impossible to stop, and the only choice was to let them go in peace. No matter how much the men protested or suffered because of it, this was the best course for those poor souls destined to become mindless foot soldiers, hungering for blood.

  Before long, serenity filled the underground as nothing but embers remained. The men knelt in silence, tears flowing down their faces. Beneath the sadness, fury bubbled. Priscilla's words were truthful, whether they agreed or disagreed with her actions—whether they believed there was a chance to save their children or that it was all hopeless. Death was better than becoming a monstrosity. Everything wrong was because of the demons and not the woman's fault when all she did was free them.

  Priscilla's eyes turned cold as the silence filled the space. She did not want to be the one responsible for putting an end to so many innocent lives. But she had to.

  "Go check the outskirts if there are any other tunnels adjoining," Priscilla commanded as she waved off several nearby mercenaries. "There may still be a chance."

  As they searched, they found a false wall that led into another long tunnel that brought them to a second spacious area beneath the town. Inside, dozens of bodies were torn down the middle, their open ribcage jutting out as the insides were gorged upon.

  They continued this process several more times, each time discovering a false wall that brought them to a new tunnel that led further into the depths toward a new spacious cavern. And each time, they found more desecrated bodies, bringing nothing but devastation upon the men's hearts.

  Finally, they reached a new tunnel that dug deeper into the earth, bringing them down a narrow rocky staircase. Once they reached the depths, a series of cages lined the walls, and shadowy figures huddled up close within them.

  Priscilla waved her palms and sent a series of lights flickering across the area, illuminating the cages and revealing hundreds of emaciated women that shriveled into themselves as the light drowned out the darkness they were so used to. Gasps and hisses escaped their cracked lips as their hands covered their dried-out faces.

  As their features were revealed to the men, one of them rushed out from the group and grabbed at the cell's bars, a pained howl escaping him as he slammed against the cell. "Valeria! My sweet, sweet Valeria! It's me!" He cried as he reached his hand out toward one of the women in the first cell.