The young man in chains, ignoring Helydia's words, continued to hammer the face of the guard split in two, his blows filled with rage and despair. His gestures were frantic, almost desperate, as if he were trying to expel all the pain accumulated over the years. The blows full of fury fell again and again on the face of his former master, relentlessly.

Samuel observed the scene with a calculated distance, understanding that this young man had endured unimaginable suffering under the yoke of those corrupt guards. He was about to leave, deeming his intervention unnecessary, when the young man, exhausted but determined, finally stopped hitting. He turned his tear-streaked face towards Samuel, his eyes filled with pleading.

"Wait!" shouted the young man in a broken voice, despite his exhaustion.

Samuel, intrigued by this unexpected cry, turned towards him. Helydia, observing the scene with growing compassion, translated the young man's thoughts into telepathic whispers.

"He asks me to let him join us." He says he has nothing that ties him here and that he will do whatever you want. For pity's sake, Samuel, let him join us. He won't do anything wrong and will at least be able to carry our bags. "Please."

Samuel turned to him, his brows furrowed. He hesitated, but ultimately he saw no valid reason to accept this young man into their group. He was getting ready to leave when, in a firm tone, he thought: "I don't see why we should let him follow us." "He is too unpredictable."

Helydia, visibly upset, turned to the young man, her face determined despite the difficulty of the situation. She stared at him intensely before speaking to him.

"You will agree to comply with all of Samuel's orders, won't you?" "If Samuel asks you to do something, will you do it without asking questions?"

The young man nodded, fear and hope mingled in his eyes.

Helydia, returning to Samuel with a worried expression, said, "You see, please accept."

Samuel, attentive to Helydia's thoughts, nodded slowly. Helydia then turned to the young man, her expression filled with regret, surprise, and a look of apology.

"He said: cut off your finger to show your obedience."

The young man, frightened, stared at Helydia with eyes full of despair. He turned to Samuel, who was looking at him with his eyes fixed on him, eyebrows furrowed as if trying to assess his worth.

The young man, his hands trembling, stared at the silver blade lying on the ground next to the body of his former master. The blade, still stained with blood, seemed to shine with a sinister light under the rays of the setting sun. He takes a deep breath, his shoulders shaking with uncontrollable tremors. His eyes, misty with tears, desperately sought a bit of courage in the trial that lay ahead of him.

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With a painful slowness, he grasped the blade, the coldness of the silver making him shiver against his skin. He raised his hand, his gaze fixed on the ring finger of his right hand, the finger he had to sacrifice to prove his obedience. His muscles were tense, stress and fear mingling with the anticipated pain. The young man, breathless, closed his eyes for a moment, trying to mentally prepare himself for what was to come.

Then, with a sharp and determined motion, he brought the blade down on his ring finger. The searing pain shot through him instantly, like an electric shock. A muffled cry escaped from his lips, his hand trembling uncontrollably. The sharp metal tore through the flesh, blood gushing forth with brutal intensity. Every nervous tingling, every pulse in his severed finger was an unbearable torture. The agony of pain was such that he struggled to breathe, his breath becoming erratic as he tried to stifle his moans.

He looked, horrified, at the gaping wound in his hand, blood flowing in a sinister stream. With a pleading and painful expression, he extended the severed finger from the palm of his bloodied hand towards Samuel. His knee still anchored to the ground, he had a posture of total submission, as if every fiber of his being was pleading for forgiveness and understanding.

His eyes timidly lifted towards Samuel, seeking to catch a sign of acceptance or recognition. Samuel's gaze was impassive, his features hardened by the observation of the brutal sacrifice that had just taken place. The young man, despite the searing pain, remained motionless, ready to do anything to prove his loyalty and commitment, hoping that this desperate gesture would be enough to convince Samuel to give him a chance.

Samuel fixed the severed finger he held in the palm of his hand. The finger, still damp with blood, was a brutal symbol of the sacrifice the young man had made to prove his obedience. Samuel grasped the finger with a firm hold, squeezing it gently.

The young man, his features marked by pain, tried to remain stoic despite the throbbing suffering that tore at his hand.

As Samuel examined the finger, a voice echoed in the young man's mind, a cold and distant resonance. "You have proven your determination." "You can join us now."

The young man, astonished by this mental communication, looked up at Samuel. His lips remained still, but he felt the warmth of the voice in his mind.

The tears that flowed from his eyes mingled with the blood that oozed from his wound, and he felt a mix of relief and pain.