Berserk: The Prophet

Chapter 163 Release from Prison

The prison gates opened, and Madwood entered the cell, his footsteps making a dull thud on the wet, slippery floor. He looked around at the horrific scene—limbs scattered everywhere and disemboweled bodies—and even he felt a chill run down his spine at the sight.

This doesn't seem like something a human would do; it's more like a wild beast's cruel venting after a full meal.

...taking pleasure in the remains of prey.

Green leaned against the cold wall, his body covered in blood and mud. His wounds had scabbed over in a short time, but his heart was filled with pain and self-reproach. He knew that his actions last night had crossed the line of humanity he had lived in his previous life.

Madwood stood before Green, his gaze growing even colder. It seemed the child that man had entrusted to him was indeed a useful tool. Last time he'd been here, Green had been peacefully acquainted with the children, and he'd even wondered if the child was being too soft-hearted for an assassin and undercover agent.

In retrospect, it seems he was overthinking things.

He infiltrated the group before even launching his attack; this kid's mind is far from simple. Truly vicious... A rare smile crept onto Madwood's lips.

"...You did an even better job than I expected, son."

Greene lowered his head and remained silent. He knew Madwood was praising him, but he felt no joy whatsoever.

Madwood approached Green, lifted his chin with his hand, and forced him to look at him. "Your performance was impressive, but don't forget your identity and mission." His voice was cold and firm.

A resolute glint flashed in Green's eyes. He gritted his teeth and said in a low voice, "I won't forget."

Madwood nodded in satisfaction and turned to leave the cell. Green silently watched his departing figure, clenching his teeth and vowing to himself that he would escape this dark place, no longer be held back by anyone, and carve out a place of his own!

"...Soon, you'll be assigned a new mission." Madwood's voice faded into the dimly lit corridor. The Shadow Hands simply cleared the corpses from the prison and left.

...There was no food ration today, and he was all alone in the empty prison.

Despite feeling as if he had rested all night, the physical fatigue seemed to linger, and Green couldn't help but gag as he recalled the fragmented memories of last night.

How disgusting... Even so, do we still have to live on?

Green suppressed the nausea caused by his psychological discomfort. What's done is done. What's the point of torturing yourself to the point of exhaustion? It's better to just survive with that meager amount of nutrients.

Green slowly sat down against the wall, closed his eyes, and tried to calm himself down. He told himself that he had to adapt to this environment in order to have a chance to escape.

Suddenly, a slight noise caught Green's attention. He opened his eyes and looked alertly toward the source of the sound.

A little mouse peeked out from the corner, sniffed the air, and then slowly approached Green.

A thought struck Green. He reached out and gently caught the mouse. He realized that this might be his only source of food for the day.

He held the mouse tightly, feeling its faint heartbeat. Although a lingering sense of nausea remained, the hunger to nourish his body gradually took over.

Green took a deep breath, brought the mouse to his mouth, and bit down...

The mouse squeaked a few times before dying completely; life is so fragile. Green's hands quickly tore off the mouse's fur, leaving only the flesh inside, which the wretched Green devoured.

That tiny liver, apart from being very small, seems no different from a human liver...

Its stomach was empty, which suggests it was struggling to survive.

In this prison, not even the smallest bone is wasted; everything usable is transformed into nourishment for the body.

Green didn't know why he had fallen into that state, as if his body was no longer under his control. However, that state... seemed to be inextricably linked to the totem on his body.

However, it remained silent, offering no response to Green. Even when Green held his breath and concentrated, he could not awaken it, nor could he enter the space that belonged only to him, as if all his abilities were inseparable from the little dragon residing within him, which was connected to the totem.

Green closed his eyes, focused his mind, and tried to establish a connection with the little dragon inside him. He could feel the warm current flowing through his body, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't evoke a response from the little dragon.

...but fortunately, this warm current is enough to ward off the cold.

............

On the 30th day in Grant's Prison.

Madwood took Green away from the cell. The weather outside had become exceptionally cold after nightfall, and even the long-unseen moonlight was dazzling. Green hadn't seen such a bright light in a long time.

So much so that even on moonlit nights, the view is exceptionally clear.

"...Let's go, that person has been waiting for a long time."

The clinking of shackles echoed between Green's hands as Madwood handed him a black coat. For some reason, they seemed oblivious to the emblem on Green's chest.

Along the way, the other shadow puppets, who were Ma Dewu Xiu's henchmen, patrolled and kept watch around the area.

A minor incident occurred: the head of a Shadow Hand, along with the dark fur of a wild beast on its head, fell from the tree.

A figure leaped down from the tree; it was also a shadow hand that had dyed the fur of wild beasts a deep brown.

"...Your behavior is very strange, Madwood."

The man's bared teeth and every word and action, like the wolf cloak he wore, revealed a fierce glint in his eyes.

“...It’s time to change this leader position.” The man licked the fresh blood off the double-edged scythe shaped like wolf fangs in his hand before approaching Madwood.

"Hmph, you're asking for death, I'll grant your wish." Madwood kicked Green far away, then drew the same weapon from his waist and began to fight the newcomer.

As a shadow fighter, he possesses a variety of unique martial arts techniques, each short and dangerous, targeting vital points and locking down his weaknesses.

Madwood's every attack was precise and deadly; his martial arts skills were undoubtedly top-notch among the Shadow Hands. While the challenger was fierce, his speed seemed somewhat insufficient against Madwood.

The two exchanged blows, locked in a fierce and evenly matched fight. Suddenly, Madwood found an opening in his opponent's defenses, swung his weapon forward with deadly force, and slashed his man's arm. The man winced in pain, slowing his movements slightly.

Taking advantage of the situation, Madwood launched a series of attacks, keeping the man busy.

In the end, the man couldn't hold on any longer and was kicked to the ground by Madwood, who cut off both of his hands.

“You’ve lost.” Madwood looked at the man who had fallen to the ground. “Who else wants to challenge my position?” Silence fell over the surroundings; no one dared to utter a sound.