It was the same person who had sent them into this hellhole. The man who had casually thrown them into their very first trial—a survival challenge where life and death blurred like oil on water. The person they were supposed to trust, to look to for guidance and protection. The teacher.
Professor Olim.
Ludwig could barely suppress the venom in his tone as he rasped the name, his skeletal hand still clutching his detached arm.
"Oh my, look what we have here," Olim said, his voice a smooth blend of amusement and mockery. His sharp eyes scanned Ludwig's mangled form. "That arm of yours is in pretty bad shape. Tsk, tsk. What a shame. But, I must say, this is a delightful scene." Olim's lips curled into a grin, sharp as a knife.
