Chapter 69

  Even in unconsciousness, Adam felt everything.

  The bite of teeth on his skin. The dull thud of clubs against his head. The scraping of stone and dirt as his body was dragged across the ground. The clash of steel, rough laughter, the stink of sweat and smoke.

  He couldn’t move—his mind caught between worlds—yet every sensation carved itself into his awareness.

  Then came the feeling of being lifted, tied, bound.

  Wood.

  Rope.

  The coarse texture of it digging against his arms.

  When he finally opened his eyes, the dim orange flicker of torchlight greeted him. He was inside a cave, tied to a thick wooden pillar, ropes coiled around him like snakes. They weren’t even enchanted—plain hemp. He could snap them with a shrug. But not yet. Not until he understood where he was.

  His gaze swept the cavern.

  And then his blood went cold.

  Across the room, Lyne hung in chains beside several other women—dirty, beaten, their clothes little more than torn rags. One was pregnant. Some barely awake. Their faces were sunken with despair. Farther along the wall, skeletons hung from rusted chains, still bound to the stone.

  Lyne stirred, her eyes opening slowly. The moment she saw the others—saw the state of the place—her face twisted in hatred and disgust.

  Adam’s hands clenched against the rope, veins tightening under his skin. These bastards…

  He forced himself on scanning his surroundings with sharp focus.

  Rough wooden crates filled with dried meat, barrels of ale, and crude weapons. Tracks of boots and animal prints near the entrance.

  A den.

  A bandit hideout.

  The air reeked of smoke and filth.

  Footsteps approached from the tunnel entrance.

  A man with greasy hair and yellowed teeth walked in, carrying a torch and a jagged knife at his belt. His grin widened when he noticed Adam’s open eyes.

  “Oh, looks like you’ve woken up, eh?”

  He turned and shouted over his shoulder, voice echoing through the cavern.

  “Captain! The foreigners have woken up!”

  The shout bounced against the stone walls, followed by laughter and heavy boots stomping closer.

  Adam didn’t move.

  Didn’t speak.

  The ropes hadn’t even left a mark on his skin—they couldn’t.

  He just waited, his crimson eyes reflecting the torchlight like the calm before a storm.

  Heavy boots stomped into the cavern. The bandit leader appeared — a burly man with a jagged scar across his cheek and a necklace of monster fangs hanging around his neck. Behind him trailed a dozen lackeys, all grinning with missing teeth and brandishing rusty blades.

  The leader gave Adam and Lyne a long, appraising look before chuckling.

  “This young man’s got a glare that could kill. And this bitch too—hah, what a pair.”

  Adam didn’t move, didn’t blink. His stare stayed sharp and cold enough to slice through steel.

  “What’s the matter? You understand what I’m saying, or are you just some dumb foreigners?”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Adam’s voice came low and even, laced with quiet venom.

  “I can perfectly understand you, you filthy vermin”

  For a moment, silence. Then the leader barked a laugh, echoed by his men.

  “Ha! Look at that, boys! The gentleman’s got a tongue after all—throws insults like he’s never had his teeth knocked in!”

  The laughter filled the cave, coarse and cruel. Adam’s expression didn’t change.

  “You all are nothing but a virus in this world.”

  “What is a virus. Captain?”

  Adam cut them off.

  “Of course. My bad I understand for people of backward status and who has pea for brains couldn't understand.

  “This cunt.”

  The leader leaned in, eyes glinting in the firelight.

  “Tell me something, fancy boy. That woman—what is she to you? And looking at those fine clothes of yours… You’re from some high-blooded family, ain’t ya?”

  Adam’s eyes narrowed.

  “That woman is my wife. And as for your question—” he smirked slightly “—she’ll tell you herself.”

  Lyne scoffed, flipping her hair to the side with disdain.

  “Husband, don’t make me talk to filth. You handle them.”

  A ripple of laughter spread through the bandits again. One of them, emboldened, stepped forward with a sneer.

  “This bitch’s got a mouth on her. Need a little punishment, I’d say.”

  He raised his saber and swung it down toward Lyne’s leg.

  A sharp clang! rang through the cave—followed by the sound of shattering steel.

  The bandit froze mid-swing, staring dumbly at the jagged half of his blade. The rest had splintered into glittering fragments against Lyne’s untouched skin.

  The leader burst out laughing, clutching his stomach.

  “You fool! That’s what I told you—don’t go jumping into things without thinking! Now look at you, lost your saber and your pride!”

  The laughter filled the cavern again, though this time Adam noticed something else in their tone—an edge of unease beneath the humor.

  Adam subtly tried to circulate his Qi. Nothing happened. It was as if his cultivation had been cut off entirely—no response, no flow, no spark. The energy in the air felt… different. Thick, unfamiliar.

  [So this is the world’s law change. My Qi doesn’t work here.]

  “How high of a blood does she have to have that”

  He looked up at the leader with that same unreadable calm.

  “She’s a princess.”

  The leader arched a brow, a slow grin spreading across his scarred face.

  “Ooooo—look at that, boys! We’ve got ourselves a royal blood here.”

  He chuckled, turning back to Adam.

  “Then that must make you some noble blood too, huh?”

  “No. More like a commoner.”

  The leader’s grin widened.

  “You’re one lucky bastard then. If any of us had that kind of luck, we’d be living like kings. Still, that toughness of yours—must be from those fancy magic attires you’re wearing. You two must be from a mage family, I bet.”

  He tapped a faintly glowing parchment hanging on his neck.

  “Good thing we activated the spell-disrupting artifact. Wouldn’t want you burning us all with your magic tricks.”

  [Mage? Mana? That term…]

  “Hey, the energy in this place—it’s called mana, isn’t it?”

  The leader blinked, confused.

  “Uh… yes?... you call us idiots yet you do not know what is considered common sense, how the fuck does that work dumb cunt”

  “Hmmmm”

  The man frowned, clearly unsure what to make of that response. Then he shrugged.

  “Well, whatever. You two are way too calm for your situation. Not the first nobles we’ve caught either.”

  He pointed toward the chained red-haired woman sitting in the corner, her eyes empty and unfocused.

  “That one there? Snatched her up during a carriage raid. Pretty thing, until her spirit broke.”

  He laughed—a dry, filthy sound that made Adam’s hands twitch against the rope.

  Then the leader leaned closer, voice dropping low, his grin turning vile.

  “I even broke her in myself, if you know what I mean.”

  Adam’s jaw tightened.

  “That’s enough. What’s going to happen to us now?”

  The leader straightened, scowling.

  “Look here, boy, I’m the one doing the talking.”

  He reached out, his rough hand gripping Lyne’s throat, his thumb grazing her jawline.

  “At first, I thought we could ransom this girl off. But now?”

  His tone dripped with cruelty.

  “Now I think I’ll sell her as a pleasure slave instead. Plenty of bastards out there willing to pay for a woman with magic in her blood…”

  He smirked.

  “Of course, we’ll have a taste of her first.”

  His hand began to slide lower. He was watching Adam, waiting for a reaction—anger, panic, anything.

  But Adam only smiled. A mocking, dangerous smile that made something primal stir in the leader’s gut.

  Lyne spat right in his face.

  “You filthy swine.”

  The leader froze. Slowly wiped the spit from his cheek.

  “A feisty one.”

  His grin twisted, eyes darkening.

  “I’m going to enjoy breaking you.”

  “Wife, do you need my help?”

  “No, not at all. I’m going to break all their bones one by one myself.”

  Her voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that comes before a storm.

  The leader sneered—just before Lyne’s fist connected with his jaw.

  The sound was wet, like stone crushing fruit.

  Bone cracked. Teeth scattered.

  The impact snapped the chains that bound her to the wall as if they were paper.

  The bandits froze, staring in disbelief as their captain hit the ground—jaw shattered, face caved in.

  Lyne looked down at him, her eyes blazing.

  “Our power might have been reduced to the peak of Qi Condensation…”

  She flexed her fingers, crimson dripping from her knuckles.

  “But that’s more than enough to beat the organs out of filth like you.”

  Then she moved.

  She became a whirlwind of rage and precision. Every motion broke something—legs twisted, ribs caved, skulls cracked.

  Bones splintered under her fists, her kicks, even the force of her aura flaring in controlled bursts.

  Not one bandit escaped. Not one remained whole.

  By the end, the cave stank of blood and fear.

  Every single one of them lay on the floor, broken in all two hundred and six places.

  Meanwhile, Adam had snapped his ropes effortlessly and moved among the chained women, breaking their bindings with a touch. Most flinched at first, expecting pain. Instead, they found gentleness in his movements—soft, steady, careful.

  “You’re free now,” he said quietly. “No one’s going to hurt you now.”

  Once Lyne’s rampage ended, she stood in silence, chest rising and falling. Her gaze shifted between the bloodied bandits and the trembling women.

  Then, without a word, she grabbed a handful of discarded blades and tossed them at the women’s feet.

  With a snap of her fingers, her voice rang through the cave—sharp and merciless.

  “Ladies… it’s time to take back what they stole from you.”

  She smiled, a terrible, cold smile.

  “Time to reclaim your power. Your dignity. Your vengeance.”

  At first, the women hesitated. Some shook. Some looked ready to faint.

  Then the red-haired noblewoman stepped forward. Her hands trembled as she picked up a blade—then tightened around the hilt until her knuckles went white.

  She turned to the man who had once been her captor.

  Her first strike was shaky. The second wasn’t.

  Soon, the others followed. One by one, the air filled with screams—not of fear, but of long-buried rage breaking free.

  Lyne watched them, her face unreadable.

  “Remember—don’t let them die quickly. Make them feel it. Every scar, every bruise, every night of horror they gave you. Let them suffer.”

  Then she leaned closer to Adam, whispering softly enough that only he could hear.

  “Don’t let them kill themselves.”

  Adam’s expression hardened. He understood perfectly.

  “I’ll make sure they don’t.”

  She knew the look in their eyes—the same hollow void she’d seen in prisoners who had long given up on life.

  These women didn’t just need vengeance. They needed a reason to keep living after it.