After Steven finished pressing his palm against the wall, he wiped the remaining blood casually against his clothes before turning around.
Without a word, he handed the dark energy knife to Brant who takes and examins it.
He then glanced briefly at the wall covered in countless bloody palm prints, then shrugged slightly. Since Steven didn't care, it meant it wasn't important, he thought inwardly.
With the same calm indifference, he dragged the blade across his palm.
A thin cut opened, then dark red blood slid across his skin before he pressed his hand firmly against the wall.
Another fresh palm print appeared.
After him, the rest of the group followed.
Veronica stepped forward and silently made her mark.
One hesitated for only a brief moment before repeating the action, pressing his bleeding palm against the strange stone surface.
The wall accepted his blood just like the others.
When the final mark was made, Steven turned away.
"Let's go."
He began leading the group away from the castle.
But before they could take more than a few steps,
A cold voice stopped them.
"You should understand that the land is indeed free."
She paused slightly. Then continued while looking at Steven
"But you will have to take it yourselves."
Everyone in group turned back slightly once they heard that.
The general continued.
"Most of the best residences within the inner sanctuary are already occupied by some relatively strong mutants."
A faint pause.
"The outer regions are for those with weak abilities, who are barely surviving. While, the inner regions are already occupied by those whose abilities are strong enough to keep them. So, the only way to get it from them is to kill them"
Then, as if she just remembered something important, she added
"Ohh, and General Redd will be collecting that tomorrow, so make sure not to lose it."
She said smiling faintly while motioning towards the second abomination head held by One.
Then she dismissed them with a wave of her right arm.
Her posture relaxed and carefree, as if she has forgotten that they even existed existed.
Steven didn't react much, already aware of the fact that they were already in someone else's territory and not outside the wastelands. But thesame couldn't be said for Brant who was originally a very reckless brute. Even if he somehow gained control of his emotions thanks to the serum provided by One. It didn't mean he wouldn't get agitated when treated like shit.
His already bulging muscles became even more terrifying, already crawling with red bloody veins.
Steven, seeing the current situation was not good, hurridly held Brant's left arm with a tight grip, applying pressure like a hydraulic press, causing it to become a little deformed. The pain finally managed to calm Brant's agitation. He takes a deep breath, looks at the mysterious general with a deep gaze before leaving in anger.
Steven shakes his head helplessly before following along with the others in tow.
They made their way into the inner parts of the sanctuary while looking around and immediately noticed the difference.
Compared to the chaotic and filthy outskirts, this area was completely different.
The buildings here were large and carefully structured with stone walls, Metal reinforcements and Strong gates.
Some houses even had decorative designs carved into the outer structures.
There was a clear sense of order and status here.
Anyone capable of living in this area was definitely not weak.
Silence lingered for a moment as the group examined their surroundings.
Then,
Veronica finally spoke.
She had been unusually quiet ever since the incident with the fox girl.
Now she raised her hand and pointed in a direction.
The others followed her gaze.
Not far away stood a moderately large house surrounded by a tall metal gate.
The structure was elegant compared to most of the buildings nearby, with clean lines, balanced construction, and even the gate had a kind of rough beauty to it, clearly indicating the status of whoever lived there.
Veronica folded her arms and nodded slightly toward the building.
"I like that house."
Her tone was calm.
"That one's big enough for everyone, even if we decide to take separate rooms, it'll still be enough."
She paused before adding bluntly,
"I don't think we can wait until a new house is built in the outskirts. Who even wants to live with those dirty and smelly mutants."
Brant slowly turned to look at Steven.
Steven looked back at him.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
But both clearly saw the same helpless expression reflected in each other's eyes.
Steven sighed quickly.
He gestured toward the house
"You all wait here."
"I'll be back."
Without waiting for a response, Steven walked toward the gate.
He pushed it open and stepped inside the compound.
The metal gate creaked slightly as it moved.
The sound echoed faintly in the still air.
As Steven approached the house, something immediately felt wrong.
The place was too quiet.
Even for a wasteland sanctuary.
Small patches of dirt and dust had accumulated along the edges of the stone walls.
The place looked like it's been abandoned for a very long time.
Steven slowly approached the front door.
Then he knocked.
The sound was loud and sharp
It echoed strangely through the silent building.
He waited for a while but received no response
Steven frowned slightly.
After a moment of hesitation, he grabbed the door handle and pushed.
But the door didn't open, it was locked.
Without hesitation, He applied more force.
The wood cracked violently as the lock broke apart.
The door swung open, and what greeted him inside was a brutal display of human cruelty.
He stopped moving.
His eyes slowly scanned the interior.
Inside the large room were iron cages.
Huge.
Each one roughly the size of a human body.
Six of them.
They were arranged along the walls like some grotesque collection.
Every cage was stained with blood, grime and old rust. An eerie display of the brutality whoever was trapped here passed through before being taken away.
But the worst was yet to come, the smell hit him next. The rotting filth mixed with human excrement and dry blood.
Human suffering that had soaked into the iron bars.
Even Steven had to pause briefly to adjust himself before fully stepping inside.
The stench was powerful enough to make a weak willed individual vomit instantly.
His eyes slowly moved across the cages.
Then he noticed something else.
One of the cages still had fresh blood smeared across the bars.
Bright, wet with the strong metallic smell. It hadn't dried
Which meant,
Whatever had happened here…
Had happened less than a day ago.
Steven's expression darkened slightly.
Then he noticed the trail.
Drops of blood.
Leading deeper into the house.
Someone had been dragged, or carried.
Either way, the trail disappeared down the hallway.
Steven followed it slowly.
His footsteps were almost silent against the dirty floor.
The deeper he went into the house, the stronger the metallic smell of blood became.
Eventually, the trail stopped in front of a large door.
This door was noticeably bigger than the others. Heavy and solid, as if something of importance was being kept inside.
Steven slowly exhaled.
His body adjusted instinctively.
Muscles tightening, breathing steady and mind sharpening.
He prepared himself for what was likely coming.
He slowly pushed the door open.
What greeted him inside was a compact room with thick, solid walls.
The walls looked unusually dense.
Built not just for strength, but for sound isolation.
The room had clearly been designed so that whatever happened inside would never reach the outside world.
In the middle of the room stood a large metal table stained with layers of dark, rusted blood.
Not fresh blood.
But old blood that had accumulated again and again over a very long time thereby forming such disturbing visual effect.
The metal surface had turned rough and dark from years of repeated use, releasing a foul smell.
Around the table were scattered pieces of torn clothing with different fabrics and sizes.
Some old and new.
But what truly made the room horrifying were the bones.
Human bones.
They were scattered across the floor carelessly.
Some leaned against the table legs.
Others lay in piles in the corners of the room.
They were strangely clean.
Too clean, as if someone had carefully scraped every last piece of flesh and blood from them.
Every fragment of meat and body tissue had been removed leaving behind perfect skeletal remains.
Some bones were small, thin and fragile.
While others were much larger.
The difference was unmistakable.
Some belonged to adults.
Others, to children.
They were simply thrown around the room like worthless garbage, as if whoever did this felt absolutely no need for hygiene, respect, or restraint.
Even with Steven's hardened mindset, a mindset forged by years of surviving the brutal wasteland, he still felt something twist inside him.
Anger, disgust and a little disturbance.
But none of those emotions appeared on his face.
His expression remained cold and calm.
He wasn't a saint.
All the saints had died a long time ago when the apocalypse began.
Anyone who managed to survive in this world until now, had at least one or two lives on their hands.
But even then, this place felt wrong.
Then,
Steven heard it.
A sound.
Slow, Steady and breathing.
His eyes instantly sharpened.
He turned toward the source of the sound with full caution.
Someone, or something was still inside the room.