Murong Ce placed a hand to his mouth, making a gesture for silence.
Among the four people tied to the pillars, three no longer made any sound, but the small boy, only four or five years old, had seen his grandfather die a horrible death and his father get his eye stabbed out, blood flowing freely. He had long been scared out of his wits.
He used all his strength to scream as though his heart were tearing and his lungs were splitting.
His young and shrill voice filled the vast chamber.
Murong Ce closed his beautiful, phoenix-like eyes briefly in annoyance at the noise.
He grabbed a dart from the table and swiftly threw it.
The small boy was killed instantly, the dart piercing his throat.
"Ah—Ah—"
The family members screamed, especially the boy's mother, who glared at Murong Ce with venom as she desperately yelled, "You're a beast, you won't die a good death, your wife and children will not die a good death either... Oh..."
