Daniel and Edrick, along with some other slaves, grabbed whatever was left of Thomas' body, threw it into the basement, and ignited the explosives.
The underground room—or hell, I should say—that had defiled and deflowered countless women burned down in a huge explosion along with all the sinners inside it.
Meanwhile, I, covered in their filthy blood, drew water from the well and could only calm my blazing heart after pouring the water over my head.
---
"It was only a few hours ago that I used to think it was fine to work as a slave if we could live a little longer," Daniel said, standing before me with all the slaves gathered behind him as I sat on the boundary of the well. "I've been working here for thirty years, and I had already accepted in my soul that I am nothing more than a slave—that I don't have the rights of a human, that I should be glad I'm still getting food after working myself to the bone. I thought I had grown old enough not to feel any desire anymore."
