#230131 - Presently, one spoke, his soft, evil voice clawing at the shreds of Elise' sanity. After the course of two weeks, the preistess had indeed dug into her flesh with that whip a hundred times for every tear she had shed, and she had not shed a single tear since then. She and Syne were on their knees now, two Monks of Torture infront of them, each holding a red-hot wand.
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