Chapter 230: Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness

Chapter 230: Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness

A bandit impatiently turned around and kicked the railing, causing the woman to stumble and fall back to the ground, her cries cut short.

The bandit who had dragged the man had a very loud voice, as if deliberately speaking for everyone in the prison to hear, filled with cruel mockery and warning:

"All of you, watch closely! This is what happens to ungrateful bastards!"

He yanked the skinny man's hair, forcing his head up to reveal a face of utter despair and lifelessness.

"This fool's goddamn family doesn't know the rules! They were told to gather the ransom, but they dared to sneak off and report to the officials! They must be tired of living!"

His vicious gaze swept across the cages like a venomous snake, and everyone he saw lowered their heads in fear, trembling.

"Don't they know their place? Don't they see whose territory Axe Ridge is? Do they think those spineless, useless officials can touch us?!"

Before his words faded, under everyone's terrified gaze, he suddenly raised the Ghost-Head Saber in his hand.

Without a moment's hesitation, he viciously thrust it into the man's heart.

"Ugh..." The man's body stiffened, his eyes bulging wide, blood gushing from his mouth. Without even a proper scream, he went completely limp.

The bandit yanked out the saber, hot blood splashed all over his hand and onto the cold ground.

He threw the still-twitching corpse to the ground like a piece of trash and spat on it.

"Pah! This is what happens when you report to the officials! All of you behave yourselves! Quietly wait for your families to bring the ransom! Anyone who dares to have crooked ideas—let that be a lesson!"

The entire prison fell into dead quiet, leaving only the woman's suppressed sobbing and the terrifying smell of blood spreading rapidly.

The two bandits swept their gaze around again in a show of force, seemingly quite satisfied with the terrified looks on everyone.

Only then did they lock the cell door, cursing as they dragged the corpse away.

The sound of footsteps faded, but the prison remained dead silent. Despair and fear soaked into every prisoner like frigid water.

Cheng Ge watched the rapidly darkening bloodstain on the ground with a blank expression and a cold look in his eyes.

Ling Feng and the other two also dropped the fake act and silently gathered around Cheng Ge.

Axe Ridge was even more lawless and contemptuous of human life than they had expected.

---

Night fell. In the cave prison, only a few torches stuck in the walls provided dim, flickering light, casting long and short shadows that added to the gloom.

The small opening at the bottom of the cell door was roughly pushed open. Several bandits carried buckets and carelessly ladled some black, unidentified substance into broken bowls thrown inside.

That stuff gave off a distinct rancid sour smell, mixed with mold.

One could faintly see unidentified debris floating in it—even a dog would turn its nose up at it.

However, for the prisoners who had been semi-starved for a long time, this was the only thing sustaining their lives.

As soon as the food hit the ground, a rapid rustling sound filled the prison.

Those who had been blank-eyed seemed to come alive instantly, lunging at their portion of the spoiled food.

Caring nothing for taste or cleanliness, they grabbed it with their hands and wolfed it down, afraid that if they were slow, it would be snatched away.

The sounds of chewing, swallowing, and occasional choking coughs were unusually clear in the silent prison, carrying a heartbreaking despair.

Cheng Ge remained sitting on the pile of straw in the corner, leaning against the cold stone wall, not looking at the bowl on the ground.

He pulled his red fox fur robe tighter around him; the night in the cave was bitterly cold.

Jiyue beside him subtly shifted his position, cleverly blocking most of the view from the other cells.

He turned sideways, his arm hanging seemingly casually, and quickly retrieved a small oil-paper package from a hidden pocket in his sleeve.

Using his body as cover, he carefully slipped the package into Cheng Ge's hand, lowering his voice: "Young master, here, eat something to hold you over."

Cheng Ge sensed the object in his hand, his fingers moved slightly, and extracted a few perfectly dried jerky strips—the kind that Funiang usually prepared for him.

His expression didn't change, nor did his eyes flicker. Using Jiyue's body as cover, he quickly pulled out one strip and popped it into his mouth, chewing.

The meat strips were savory and chewy, a world apart from the rancid stench permeating the prison.

He ate quickly. Finishing one, he casually pulled out two more.

This time, however, he didn't eat them. Instead, he gently tapped Jiyue's hand with his finger.

Jiyue understood and shook his head almost imperceptibly, signaling they weren't hungry and that Cheng Ge should keep them for himself.

Cheng Ge didn't insist. He ate a few more strips, then rewrapped the remaining ones in the oil paper and silently tucked them back into his sleeve pocket.

He continued to lean against the wall, closed his eyes and rested, as if nothing around him mattered.

---

Inside the Hall of Loyalty and Righteousness, several thick tallow candles crackled, illuminating the entire space as bright as day.

At the head, three chairs draped in animal skins were arranged in a row, on which three men sat with their legs spread wide like bosses.

The one in the center had a broad-faced with round eyes and a full beard. He was the most burly, with his chest bared to reveal dense chest hair and a fierce scar.

He was the Great Chief, "Mountain-Cleaving Axe" Lei Biao, currently holding a greasy roast lamb leg in one hand and ripping off big chunks.

In the other hand, he held a wine bowl, taking a gulp from time to time, his eyes roving wildly over the women dancing in the hall.

The man on the left had a paler complexion but sly eyes.

He was slowly nibbling on peanuts, an unsettling sneer on his lips.

He was the Second Chief, "Poison Scholar" White Brow, the stronghold's brains and the one with the dirtiest tricks.

On the right was a man as black and solid as an iron pagoda, with a face full of rough, bulging flesh, pounding the table and yelling: "Faster! You haven't eaten? Get those hips moving!"

This was the Third Chief, "Black-Faced Bear" Xiong Meng, the most hot-tempered of them all, and the one who had captured Cheng Ge and brought him to the fort.

Below, dozens of bandit underlings crammed the hall, gathered around rough wooden tables.

They too were drinking from big bowls and wolfing down meat, yelling and cursing, the racket almost blew the roof off.

The air was thick with the sharp stink of cheap booze, the greasy scent of roasted meat, sweat from the men, and a lawless, savage energy.

In the open space in the middle of the hall, six or seven women were forced to dance.

Their clothes were thin, and in the cold mountain night, their lips were purple and their bodies trembled incessantly.

The so-called "dance" was completely random—just flailing around, with stiff and mechanical motions, fear and humiliation written all over their faces.

Most of them had been snatched from nearby villages or were the wives or daughters of traveling merchants.

The bandits' eyes crawled over them like greasy grime, occasionally erupting into rough, coarse laughter and filthy jokes and jeers.

One of the women, maybe out of sheer terror and cold, stumbled, almost falling flat.