Hellbound: Rebirth Of The Strongest Slayer.

Chapter 82 82: Hollow Death

Callack had planned for this moment for days.

Endured for it.

The scavengers tortured them almost daily. Whenever they felt like it. They did not care if someone died. They did not bother to heal them afterward. Blood dried where it fell. Wounds festered.

Brutal.

Heinous.

But simple.

They were making sure none of them could cultivate.

Most of the prisoners were cultivators. A few were not. The majority were Stage One. Two of them had barely stepped into Stage Two.

Weak.

Especially against an organization this large.

The scavengers' method was cruel but effective. Constant pain. Constant stress. No peace. No focus.

No cultivation.

For most.

But Callack was different.

While others trained in calm environments, breathing in peace and stillness, Callack had created his own technique.

One born in hardship.

One that thrived in pressure.

Pain did not hinder him.

Pain sharpened him.

That was why he had reached the peak of Stage One.

Silently.

Right under their noses.

After regaining enough qi, he shattered the bindings on his legs. The chains cracked apart without a sound.

His hands were another matter.

The shackles there were stronger. He tried to break them.

Failed.

So he waited.

And now the opportunity had come.

The dead scavenger lay on the ground behind him, neck twisted grotesquely.

Callack did not even spare him a glance.

He looked at the others instead.

"I am getting out of here," he said calmly. "Who is with me?"

Confusion.

Disbelief.

The prisoners stared at him as if he had gone mad.

Then they saw the broken chains at his feet.

Saw the body.

Saw the look in his eyes.

Cold.

Certain.

One by one, they nodded.

The fire returned to their gazes.

Callack nodded once in return.

Without speeches.

Without manipulation.

He stepped forward and unchained them using the stolen keys.

Eighteen men were locked in this section with him.

Some were drenched in blood.

Some barely conscious.

Some already halfway to death.

Those on the brink were left behind.

Harsh.

But necessary.

They would not make it out alive. And if he tried to carry them, they would slow everyone down.

Callack had a good heart.

He would help those in need.

But right now, he was on borrowed time.

He needed to find his wife.

And get out.

At first, he had wanted to destroy this cursed organization. Burn it to the ground. Tear it apart brick by brick.

That thought vanished after his time in prison.

On several occasions, upper echelon members of the scavengers personally came down to torture them.

They were bored.

Since the last human settlement in the forest was wiped out, there had been no villages left to raid. No easy prey.

So they entertained themselves here.

During those moments, Callack felt it clearly.

Their strength.

Overwhelming.

Rao and Ricu appeared to be Stage Two.

That was a lie.

They had a method of suppressing the aura leaking from their Awakening Spheres.

In truth, both were Stage Four experts in the Awakening Realm.

And they were not the only ones.

There were more.

Many more.

The air in this place was thick with hidden monsters.

Callack could not defeat even one of them.

Not yet.

Not even close.

So the plan changed.

Find Selene.

Get out.

Live.

As the fifteen men moved, they cut down a few guards along the way.

Most of them were only Stage One Awakening Realm.

Not worth much effort.

Especially not against Callack.

He could feel it clearly now.

He was on the verge.

Just a step away from breaking into Stage Three.

From one of the dying guards, they forced out valuable information. A less used path. A lower tunnel. A place rarely patrolled.

They followed it.

The ground descended deeper underground.

Darker.

Colder.

No torches.

No light.

Only the sound of their breathing and distant dripping water.

They had little time.

If another guard entered the prison block and found the cells empty, alarms would ring. They would not make it far before being hunted down and slaughtered.

Finally, they broke into what looked like a chamber.

And then—

The smell hit them.

Rotten.

Putrid.

Heavy enough to choke on.

"What the hell is that?" one man muttered, covering his nose.

Then they saw it.

Corpses.

Men and women.

Dozens.

The men were mutilated beyond recognition. Limbs missing. Flesh torn apart in savage ways. Some likely died during torture. Others were those who attempted escape.

Cruel.

Brutal.

But the women—

The women were different.

No large cuts.

No torn limbs.

They looked hollow.

Shriveled.

As if something had drained them from the inside.

Their skin clung to bone. Eyes sunken. Blood gone.

"What kind of death does this…" Callack muttered.

Before he could finish, one of the men stepped forward.

Mark.

Strong willed. Unyielding. He had been here longer than Callack and never once broke.

But now—

He was shaking.

He walked slowly toward one of the hollow women.

Step by step.

As if approaching a nightmare he prayed was not real.

He knelt.

His lips trembled.

"Please… no… don't let it be her… don't…"

He gently turned the body over.

A ring.

On her finger.

The same ring he had given her during their engagement.

His face shattered.

A broken sound tore from his throat.

Before he could scream and doom them all, one of the men reacted quickly, stuffing cloth into his mouth.

Mark struggled.

Then stopped.

He remembered.

If he screamed, they all died.

If he was alone, he would not care.

He had endured everything because he believed he would see his wife again.

That belief was gone.

She was dead.

Callack swallowed.

His gaze swept over the hollow corpses.

"Does anyone know what did this?" he asked quietly.

The men's mutilation was horrific.

But this…

This felt worse.

One man stepped forward.

Rick.

The frailest among them. First Stage like most, but clearly the weakest physically.

"I don't know much," Rick said, voice grave.

His body trembled as he forced himself to continue.

"When I was brought here… I wasn't alone. I came with my sister."

He paused, swallowing hard.

"We were captured together. I was thrown straight into the torture cells. But my sister… she was chosen."

"Chosen?" Callack asked.

Rick's eyes reddened.

"They said she would become the lord's concubine."

A tear slid down his face.

"At that time… I was relieved."

His voice cracked.

"I thought it was better than torture. I thought if she satisfied their leader, she would live."

Silence.

"What happened next?" Callack asked.

Rick shook his head slowly.

"The next time I saw her…"

He pointed weakly.

"She looked like that."

Like Mark's wife.

Hollow.

Drained.

Dead.

Callack's eyes darkened as the pieces connected.

Mark's wife.

Rick's sister.

All the hollow women.

Chosen as concubines.

Then reduced to empty shells.

There was only one conclusion.

Whatever was draining these women dry…

Was connected to the leader of the scavengers.

Callack's fists tightened.

An accursed leader hiding behind power and cruelty.

Then it hit him.

A single thought.

So sharp it froze his mind.

Selene.

She had been taken too.

Selected.

For the scavenger lord.

Callack's heart slammed violently against his ribs.

Wait.

If the women chosen as concubines ended up like this—

His gaze snapped back to the hollow corpses scattered across the room.

Skin clinging to bone.

Eyes empty.

Drained.

"No…" he whispered.

His hands clenched so hard the sound of bone creaking echoed in the silence.

"This can't be."

When Callack lifted his head again, the men around him nearly staggered back.

The cold in his eyes was no longer controlled.

It was abyssal.

He looked like a reaper dragged straight out of hell.

Without another word, he turned and began walking toward the exit of the chamber.

"Find your own way out," he said flatly. "Try to stay alive."

"What about you?" one of the men asked, panic rising in his voice. "Aren't you coming?"

Callack did not turn back.

"No."

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

"I have someone I need to fetch."

The killing intent wrapped around those words like frost.

It was not loud.

Not explosive.

But it carried weight.

Enough to send chills down their spines.

No one dared stop him.

No one dared follow.

And then he said it.

Softly.

Yet it felt like a vow carved into stone.

"If that damn scavenger bastard dared lay a hand on my wife…"

His aura flared, violent and suffocating.

"I will not stop at anything."

A pause.

"I will raze everything he owns. Everything he built. Everything he believes in."

His footsteps echoed as he walked into the darkness of the corridor.

"Selene," he murmured.

"I'm coming."

To be continued…