CHAPTER 58: LOSS OF THEIR FAITH

The officers waited with held breath, hoping for good news concerning the missing women, but fate had already cast its final, merciless judgment upon them.

"Is it over?" Estefan questioned with a solemn tone as one of his Bloodhounds emerged silently before him.

The Bloodhound knelt deeply, showing reverence. "Yes, my lord. We have confirmed all three women have died. They were subjected to relentless sexual assault by well over a hundred individuals before succumbing."

Estefan inhaled sharply, his expression hardening with restrained fury. He had expected cruelty but this level of inhumanity disappointed him.

These weren’t tacticians or calculating enemies. They were nothing more than vulgar beasts indulging in depravity. They hadn’t taken the women hostage or used them to gather information. Instead, they discarded potential advantage in favor of fleeting carnal pleasure.

"However..." the Bloodhound added with a grim voice, "the corpses are still being violated. The leader especially, he strangled one to death during the act and now seems obsessed with the lifeless bodies."

Estefan’s eyes darkened as he stared at his subordinate. "So it has come to this..." he muttered, shaking his head slowly. "There is no need to understand further. People driven by only impulse and lust will never rise beyond their filth. Prepare our gift, one fitting for such vile men. Ensure they experience it thoroughly." He waved his hand, and the Bloodhound bowed again before vanishing into the shadows.

Left alone, Estefan let out a long sigh, standing on the balcony as the early wind brushed against his face.

The harsh truths of the world often came uninvited. Here, survival was not just about strength but it was about cruelty, about enduring and navigating through nightmares one could never speak of aloud.

"If people ever learned that I had the power to stop this, yet chose not to..." Estefan whispered to himself, his voice low and heavy, "...they’d crucify me. But there are times when we must let evil walk briefly so that a greater number of people may walk freely later."

He chuckled dryly. "I sound like one of those damned philosophers... justifying darkness in the name of order."

While Estefan brooded on the palace balcony, dawn was already breaking at the City Fort. The sun slowly pushed its rays over the rooftops, and the city was alive in chaos. Loud explosions from the previous night had stirred unrest. Panic still lingered.

Frejlurd was tirelessly issuing orders, barking at his subordinates as his boots stomped across the strategy room. "Search every corner, every alley, and house! Tear the damn roofs off if you must!" His voice thundered. The City Guard, under pressure, raided every crevice of the city as they were desperate to locate the missing women before it was too late.

But their efforts were already behind. Through routes only known to the underworld, the narrow alleys that even guards dared not tread, the Red Serpents had returned to their hidden lair long before dawn.

There, they unleashed true horror upon those poor women. Who were still alive when brought in, were subjected to hours of torment and suffering.

Their cries echoed in the silent chamber of the Serpent’s den, only to be drowned out by laughter and drunken howls. Their abusers enjoyed every bit of their agony until finally, their lives were snuffed out like candles in a storm. And yet, it didn’t end there.

Once they were done, the Red Serpents took blades and carved horrific messages onto the victims’ abdomens. "A warning to the Baron," etched in crude and jagged strokes like a mockery written in flesh.

With disturbing precision, the gang then transported the corpses, slipping through the shadows while their scouts directed them around patrolling guards.

Eventually, they arrived at the city center. Before a small shop, they laid the three bodies, covering them with a large, tattered blanket, as if mocking the city’s inability to protect its own.

When morning arrived, the blanket of night lifted. But Frejlurd sensed it at that moment as something was wrong. Something had gone terribly and irreversibly wrong.

"Still nothing?" he snapped, slamming his fist into the wooden table in the war room.

The officer standing nearby looked hesitant. "We... we still haven’t found them, my lord."

Frejlurd clenched his jaw. He had exhausted every resource available, every ounce of manpower, every unit. And yet, it had all been in vain. The City Guard had failed. More than that, they had been made a mockery of.

"My lord!" another officer burst in through the door. "We’ve... we’ve found them."

Frejlurd immediately straightened, his breath catching. "Alive?" He wanted to know whether all this hard work had brought a fruitful result.

The man hesitated. "They’re dead, sir. Their corpses have been discovered."

Frejlurd’s heart sank. Without another word, he rushed out, fury boiling just beneath the surface.

Upon reaching the city square, a thick crowd had already gathered. Whispers swelled into murmurs. Murmurs turned into gossip. Laughter and shouts but many from the gangs who rippled through the masses.

The Guard had already formed a perimeter, but it did little to stop the jeering or disrespect. The people had come, and they saw what their city had become.

Frejlurd pushed through, eyes narrowed. "Move," he ordered, and the guards pulled back the blanket, revealing the gruesome sight beneath.

He knelt slowly, studying the mutilated corpses. It took everything he had not to grimace.

"What’s your assessment?" he asked the officer next to him, the officer was the one experienced in forensic analysis.

"Death due to prolonged sexual assault. One was strangled while still being assaulted. The other two appear to have died mid-act." The man scribbled down notes for the official report. "Carvings on their lower bodies, all of them read the same thing ’A warning to the Baron.’"

Frejlurd stared at the marks. A deep, burning anger brewed within him. He stood slowly, his composure ironclad despite the storm within.

"It’s a direct message. Probably in retaliation for the recent executions," the officer added, not lifting his gaze.

The crowd’s whispers grew louder. The public opinion was turning. Harsh words were being thrown.

"The Guard failed."

"They were just girls."

"They let this happen."

Frejlurd heard every word. He couldn’t ignore it. But still, he forced himself to remain calm. A leader could not afford to break.

Facing the crowd, he spoke with firm resolve. "These women were brave officers. We will hunt down those responsible. I give you my word, justice will be delivered."

His declaration, however, was met with cruel laughter and loud boos. The people no longer believed. And Frejlurd understood that this wasn’t just a loss of lives, it was the loss of their faith.

[To be Continued]