Estina received an order. On the night of May 25th, midnight tonight, open the prison doors of the Half-Blood Ward and gather all half-bloods in the exercise yard.
She didn’t know what Lafeier intended, but as a subordinate, she only needed to follow orders.
…
Around 9 PM, a guard escorted Alpha back to her cell.
Along the way, Alpha felt a chill down her spine, as if being stared at by countless eyes.
Those eyes gave her the same feeling as that bastard Kelisidina’s gaze.
She couldn’t describe it, but the hand that Kelisidina had broken still hurt, leaving her no time to think.
Back in the cell.
“Bastard, lunatic! Bitch, I’ll make your life a living hell!”
“If you can come back alive…”
Alpha kept cursing, causing the remaining half-bloods in the prison to tremble.
Their boss’s eyes turned blood red, her fangs growing sharp, and her bloated body secreting turbid fluids, which evaporated into gray mist due to her high body temperature. The smell mixed the stench of grease and internal organs with a strong odor of urine.
“Be… beastification!”
The half-bloods, especially the half-orcs, were terrified upon smelling that scent. The pressure came from a superior predator, a fear rooted in their genes and instincts.
Beastification, in orc research, is also called “atavism.” It rapidly converts fat and protein in the body into energy in a short time. Half-orcs have a low energy conversion rate, but Alpha was definitely in a league of her own. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have held the position of cell leader for so long.
“If you can come back,” Alpha panted, her voice becoming extremely deep, “I’ll tear you apart!”
…
In Cell 18, Section 2, Floor 2, a half-demon girl punched the stone wall.
thud! A bloodstain was left on the wall.
“Damn it, those cell leaders are going too far!”
Safitiya roared.
Next to her, five half-demon girls of different races also had angry faces.
“Sometimes we have to do two people’s tasks at the workstation, isn’t that because of those cell leaders and their cliques? Why do we have to do their work! If it were just that, it would be fine, but they even take half our food!”
“And what happened this morning, you all saw it. Forcing a kid as thin as a stick to crawl naked in the square like a dog. We’re all half-bloods, why do they get to humiliate us like this!”
Safitiya turned her head. Her dusty face couldn’t hide her clear, bright eyes, and her half-broken horn didn’t diminish her inherent bloodthirst.
“Our life shouldn’t be like this! Why do those bastards get to throw their weight around just because the prison backs them? Why do we have to silently endure? Yes, we half-bloods are base, dirty, lowly… but aren’t those cell leaders also half-bloods?”
“We all carry the same impure blood, why should we let them trample over us?”
Safitiya’s voice pierced the iron door, echoing in the narrow corridor. Soon, people in the same prison district responded one after another. They all pointed their fingers at the cell leader of the foremost cell on Floor 2, Section 2.
That cell leader did not back down, shouting, “Rebelling, are you? If you want to die, shout louder. When the guards come, you’ll get what you deserve!”
“That bitch Safitiya, don’t think knowing a few damned words lets you roar in my face! You cripple, you don’t even have a horn and you dare to take the lead? Have I been too kind to you all this time?”
The cell leader’s voice was like a bell, drowning out the entire prison district by herself. However, the more intimidation and violence, the tighter the spring is pressed. When the force becomes unbalanced, the long-suppressed anger will erupt.
Silent uproar.
After the cell leader spoke, the prison district fell into deathly silence. This eerie scene sent chills down even the cell leader’s spine.
“You… you know you’re wrong, good. I’ll reluctantly not report this to the guards, but don’t cause any more trouble, especially you, Safitiya.”
The cell leader seemed to be talking to herself. The only response was the faint echo from the depths of the prison.
The echo touched the blood-soaked rock walls, emitting a dull groan. The cracks and textures suddenly transformed into crying faces, eyeless, noseless, with only wide empty eye sockets and nearly melted mouths.
A wind, coming from nowhere, swept through the narrow corridor, raising a sharp howl. Like a cat’s cry, or a mountain demon’s wail. In the deathly deep silence, it overlapped and undulated, as if narrating endless sorrow and pain.
The oil lamps flickering on the walls along the corridor poured boiling blood and tears. Occasionally, a spark of fire from the gaps in the cells was swallowed by the oppressive breathing.
Safitiya panted. Now even her breaths were clearly audible. Her chest felt like a thousand-pound boulder was pressing down. Each breath made her whole body tremble. The undisguisable anger in her brows made her keep scraping her palm on the wall, as if only pain could suppress the boundless fury.
In the prison that was perpetually dark, damp, hot, and amidst the ceaseless roar of the steam engine, her life was so bleak, yet so vigorous. The more she grieved for the dark and boundless future, the more enraged she became at the present heart-wrenching suffering and hatred.
In the surging waves of an era, Safitiya was but a tiny mayfly easily crushed by the pressure of the current; among the vast army of sufferers, Safitiya was but a pitiful person who would die tragically by the roadside; however, now, at this moment, she was Safitiya. That unwillingness and anger had nothing to do with the grand themes of the times; it was merely the hatred forged from the humiliation deep in her heart.
Finally, when the ominous wind dissipated into the boundless darkness, when the twisted faces merged with so many angry people, when the flickering weak flame ignited the blazing fire in their hearts, a key was inserted into the door.
“Everyone, gather in the exercise yard!”
The silver ominous reflection bounced between the guard’s belt rope and baton. Safitiya walked out of the cell with heavy steps.
The cell leader was already at the door, counting heads with the guard. Her ugly face, her fawning and obsequious demeanor, all made Safitiya furious. That was a deep hatred for a betrayer, an oppressor. She also hated the prison that oppressed her, the Empire that oppressed her, but that hatred was not as nauseating and sickening as this.
As they passed each other, she met the cell leader’s eyes. The projection of the oil lamp on the wall flickered like flames in her pupils. Her broken horn radiated a resentment more ominous than silver and curses.
And this resentment would fission among the nearly 1,000 oppressed half-bloods in Tulip Prison, evolving into a bloody massacre in the dim prison where faint light and endless darkness intertwined.