"Please kill me, I beg you to kill me, grant me a swift end!" A middle-aged man, who used to look somewhat heroic, kneeled on the ground weeping and wailing. He looked utterly wretched, his limbs twisted at bizarre angles, his body covered with various peculiar objects. There were even some delicate white dragon scales on him.
"Enough, grant him a swift end!" Muria frowned as he looked at the young man with white hair and white eyes who stood in front of the dragon hunter with a pathological grin on his face.
After noticing the dramatic change in the White Dragon's mental state following its torture, Muria had brought it along to vent its emotions. Of course, he hadn't expected it to become increasingly depraved, going so far as to use its own blood to actively corrode humans out of revenge against the dragon hunters.