The Destructive Adventures of the Lovers-Chapter 49: The Torture

Aeiwou's screams echoed through the frozen halls of the castle, a haunting, broken wail that twisted through the jagged ice and shattered pillars. She knelt in the center of the throne room, her arms bound in thick chains, her white hair matted with blood and frost. Her once-bright blue eyes were dull, her body trembling as she stared up at the twisted, towering form of Martha.

"Pathetic," Martha whispered, her voice a cold, biting hiss. She raised one slender hand, and the ice beneath Aeiwou cracked and splintered, sharp, jagged shards rising like the fangs of a beast. The glacier surged forward, slashing into Aeiwou's flesh, carving deep, frozen gashes into her skin. She screamed, her voice raw and desperate, her magic flickering weakly around her like dying embers.

The knights surrounded her, their armor clinking as they closed in, their spears gleaming in the pale, icy light. They thrust their weapons forward, the jagged tips slicing into Aeiwou's flesh, piercing her arms and legs, her blood freezing to the cold metal. She gasped, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps, her body shaking as the ice crept deeper into her wounds.

"Please..." she whispered, her head hanging low, her blood-streaked hair falling over her bruised, battered face. "Have mercy..."

Martha leaned down, her cold, unblinking eyes locking onto Aeiwou's. She reached out, her slender fingers wrapping around the mage's throat, her grip tightening until the bones creaked beneath her grasp.

"Mercy?" Martha whispered, her breath freezing against Aeiwou's skin. "You dare beg for mercy after defying me? After betraying me?" She tightened her grip, her nails digging into Aeiwou's flesh. "You are nothing but a coward—a traitor."

Aeiwou's head slumped forward, her eyes rolling back as the ice shards tightened around her, their jagged edges slicing deeper into her flesh, her screams echoing through the frozen halls like the howls of a dying beast.

When the torture ended, the knights seized Aeiwou by the arms, dragging her battered, blood-soaked body down the spiraling, ice-covered stairs of the castle. Her feet scraped against the frozen steps, her head lolling to the side as her lifeblood dripped onto the frost-covered stone. They threw her into a cell deep beneath the castle, her broken body crumpling to the frozen floor with a dull, wet thud. The iron bars clanged shut, the sound echoing through the dark, frozen corridors as her screams filled the icy air.

Hours later, as the wind howled outside the castle walls and the storm raged on, the heavy doors of the throne room creaked open. A lone figure stepped into the hall, his boots crunching against the frost-covered floor, his cloak billowing around him like the wings of a great, dark bird.

Martha watched him from her throne, her icy gaze unblinking, her fingers tapping against the armrests as the stranger approached. He stopped at the base of her throne, his head bowed, his hood pulled low over his face.

"Why do you do this?" he asked, his voice low and rough, his breath fogging the frozen air. "Why do you rule with such cruelty? Why do you torture the weak and crush those who dare stand against you?"

Martha's eyes narrowed, her lips curling into a cruel, twisted smile. She leaned forward, her breath misting the air as she whispered, "It is none of your concern. You are nothing but a shadow—a ghost wandering my frozen halls."

The man's shoulders tensed, his head slowly rising, his hood falling back to reveal a scarred, weathered face, his eyes burning with a fierce, unrelenting fire.

"I will not stand by and watch as you destroy this world," he snarled, his voice shaking with rage. He took a step forward, his fists clenching at his sides, his eyes blazing as he met Martha's icy gaze. "I will stop you."

Before he could move, Phoebie's massive form shot forward, her icy blade slicing through the air with a sharp, metallic hiss. The man's eyes widened in shock, his mouth falling open in a silent scream as the blade cleaved through his chest, splitting him in two. Blood splattered across the frozen floor, staining the ice a deep, sickening red as his body crumpled to the ground, his eyes staring blankly into the dark, frozen air.

Phoebie straightened, her blade dripping with the man's blood, her eyes cold and unblinking as she turned to face Martha. She knelt before her queen, her head bowed, her voice low and unwavering.

"Forgive me, my queen," she whispered, her breath fogging the frozen air. "I could not allow him to harm you."

Martha's cruel smile widened, her eyes gleaming with twisted delight. She reached out, placing a hand on Phoebie's bowed head, her touch as cold as the grave.

"You have done well, my loyal knight," she whispered, her voice dripping with venom. "Rise."

Phoebie rose to her feet, her blade still dripping with blood, her eyes unblinking as she stepped back, her head held high, her breath fogging the icy air.

Martha turned back to her throne, her fingers curling around the icy armrests as she closed her eyes. She whispered a single, bitter word, and the ice beneath her feet cracked and groaned, the walls around her shifting and twisting as the castle expanded, towering walls of jagged ice rising from the frozen ground, their sharp edges glinting in the pale, ghostly light.

She reached out, her fingers brushing against the icy surface of her throne, and a crown of jagged, twisted ice formed around her head, its sharp, crystalline spires glinting in the pale, blue light. She touched the surface, and the air around her crackled with a cold, unrelenting energy, the ground trembling beneath her feet as the storm outside intensified, the wind howling like the screams of the damned.

Far from the castle, Aeiwou's remaining followers huddled together in the snow, their bodies trembling, their breaths coming in shallow, ragged gasps. The storm closed in around them, the icy wind biting at their flesh, their throats freezing over as the cold crept deeper into their bodies. freeweɓnøvel.com

One by one, they fell, their bodies stiffening, their eyes freezing over, their final, desperate screams lost to the raging storm.

Martha sat upon her throne, her crown glinting in the pale, ghostly light, her eyes cold and unblinking as the storm raged on, her laughter echoing through the frozen halls like the howl of a great, terrible beast.