Chapter 169

The sun beat down on the deserted landscape as the traitors' bodies hung, stretched out, and suspended in a gruesome display on wooden crosses planted in the dry earth. After being nailed inside the warehouse, they had been brought out so everyone could see.

The air was heavy with the stench of death, decay, sweat, and fear. Flies buzzed around the wounds, feasting on the festering flesh. Their once-human forms were now twisted and broken, their bodies mingling with dried blood sagging on the cross in a helpless pose.

Three of the men were dead while the remaining five silently prayed for death to escape the pain and suffering. The only sounds were the labored gasps and whispers of despair.

One man's eyes rolled back, his head lolling to the side, while another's gaze fixed on some distant point, his spirit long gone from his body. A third man's body convulsed, his muscles straining against the nails.

A crowd gathered below, their expressions frozen in terror. The crowd's silence was