In the dim, gloomy cell, the damp, moldy straw on the floor writhed with unseen creatures.
Jiang Yue rested her head against the wall, the tips of her fingers stained with blood that looked like fresh red ink.
Although dawn had already broken, the dungeon had only one small ventilation window, making it impossible to tell the time. Yet the posture she had maintained since entering and her long-numb limbs reminded Jiang Yue that in another half-hour, she would lose her head.
Chapter 125