Mercy lays against the stone walls of a cellar, crying silently to herself as she struggles to rub away the tears. Her hands move half an inch before they stop. Through the tears, she looks up and sees her hands are manacled to the wall, forced into a constant Y position. The shackles are made out of ancient iron, rusted over due to time.

In front of her is a bed, a sweet temptation there to torture her. In the entire time she has spent in the cell, she hasn’t ever slept in it. Across from the bed, to Mercy’s left, is cage bars like someone would find inside of a prison. The sight of the bars fills Mercy with terror.

Mercy looks out of it, but only sees darkness. There is no light nor warmth out there, just unending darkness. Her head drops down to her chest, tired of being held up. Her platinum hair flaps loosely around her head, almost as if blown by an invisible wind. As her head falls, her eyes take in more and more of the state her body is in. Crimson bandages wrap around her legs, stopping just below her crotch. Starting just above her crotch, more bandages wrap their way around the entirety of the rest of her body up to the neck.

If she had a mirror, Mercy knows that she would see bandages wrapped around her left eye too. The old cell door creaks open next to her. Mercy lo-

‘No. This is a nightmare. Don’t look up. Wake up Mercy. I know I can do it. Wake up. I’ve had this memory replayed way too many times as a nightmare to fall for it again.’ Mercy continuously tries to wake herself up. It slowly works as the emotions of sorrow and fear forced upon her by the nightmare start to fade away.

A pair of legs, clad in a fancy suit, walk up into her vision. The person stands between her legs, but Mercy doesn’t look up. Instead, she forces her way out of the nightm-

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Mercy wakes up. She tries to rub her eyes, to rid herself of tiredness, but can’t. It takes her a moment as her blurry vision clears to figure out why. Mercy is strapped to a horizontal pole. Her arms and legs are bound around it, leaving her dangling parallel with the ground.

She tries to wake herself up again, but from the pain in her arm, she quickly realizes she isn’t asleep still. Mercy wiggles her head around, observing more and more of the situation she is in.

The pole is hanging from two creatures, both taller than the average human. The pole she hangs from rests on their broad shoulders. They both have black skin, pure black like a starless night. The skin is cracked in places, almost like they’ve been through extreme heat. Unlike what she expected to see between the cracks, violet flesh shines out, in great contrast with their skin. She can’t see their faces, but she knows both are male. How? Quite easily, actually. They aren’t wearing any clothes at all, letting it all hang loose. And there is a lot to hang, easily bigger than humans.

Around her stand more of the creatures, like a guard. Every single one of them are males. None of the creatures speak at all. The two near the front of the group are the only ones wearing clothes. They have on thick black breastplates, covering their chest. The metal used looks like some sort of onyx, but Mercy can’t really tell. She has never been interested in different materials, so she can’t say for sure what they are.

As she dangles around, she notices that they seem to be carrying her somewhere. She can’t quite tell where, due to being upside down, but she can see the sun shining through the glass of the surrounding buildings. Judging by its position, the procession is heading south.

One of the creatures starts to speak next to her. It is in a language that she doesn’t know, but she has more important things to think about than understanding it. For instance, every word that it says feels like something is dragging its claws across her brain.

One of the other creatures notices her wincing and says something in the same language to the original talker. She can’t understand the words, but she does get the gist of what it said. No matter the language, shut up can easily be inferred by the body language. Mercy is impressed she caught the gist considering that when the other creature shouted, the claw dragging sensation jumped up nearly twenty times as painful.

After a few seconds, the group returns to silence. ‘Why haven’t they killed me yet? What are they going to do to me… Alsom what are these creatures? Oh wait, didn’t I have an ability called Eyes of the Dragon or something like that?’

Mercy activates the ability, and realizes that it is the same ability that she used during her time in the museum. The one that let her know that the green and orange creatures were goblins.

[Vandals(Serf), lvl.5]*10

[Description: The lowest class among the creatures of the abyss. The serfs are treated like foot soldiers by the other classes of the abyss. This class is mostly made up of Imps, Vandals(what these are), and Rogans.]

‘Damn it, they are level five! If they were level ones, I would maybe have a chance of fighting my way out. Actually… no I wouldn’t. I’m strapped to a pole, surrounded by ten of them. To add insult to injury, that dick stole both my weapon and my egg.’ As Mercy thinks of Tyler’s theft, a blue box shows up in her vision.

[Exclusive Quest: [Retrieval]

Requirements: Take back both the Ice Dragon Egg and Frost Tear from the thief known as Tyler before the egg hatches.

Rewards: Exclusive Skill

Failure: Your soul will be splintered, resulting in death.

Time limit: 06:13:43:22]

‘I need to get out of here and get back to that guy.’ Mercy tries to struggle, but stops when one of her captors smacks her. As the vibrations of the hit go through her, her dangling hair flaps around. She doesn’t stop because of the pain, but stops because the knots tying her to the wood are both really tight and extremely well done. She can wiggle all she wants, but she isn’t going to escape. Another reason to stop is that as she struggled, the creatures around her started to become aroused. She thought they were big before, but now...

'What do I even do? My soul will be splintered? And that's if I'm not eaten or raped to death by these vandals. I'm not quite sure which one I'd prefer. A splintered soul sounds extremely painful. On the other hand, being raped to death by the creatures would litteraly tear me in two.

With nothing else to do, Mercy waits on the pole...