In the fringes of the Iron Rhino Tribe.

In the eastern fringes of the Iron Rhino Tribe's territory, a system of artificially created pits existed. These pits were called 'Prison Pits,' and were Iron Rhino's Tribe's system for punishing unpardonable criminals. Offenders would be thrown into these pits with their limbs shackled with iron chains. They would then be left to die a slow, cold, and hunger-ridden death as the bodies of the criminals slowly deteriorated and rotted.

And if one thought that this wasn't already torturous enough, the condition at the bottom of the pit was even more inhumane. Firstly, the pit's narrow space was intricately designed in a way that made it impossible to neither comfortably sit or lie down; it only allowed the prisoner to sit in an uncomfortable, hunched position.

Secondly, there was an ever-present puddle of water at the bottom of the pit. This puddle of water will slowly rise in level over time, eventually rising to the point of submerging all but the head of the prisoner underwater. Given this, one would think that the prisoner would sooner pass by freezing to death. However, this was not the case as a school of flesh-eating leeches would be released into the water to painfully nibble away at the prisoner's flesh. And since there was constant activity, it ensured that the prisoner did not freeze to death.

Thirdly, the entrance of the pit was consciously kept uncovered, giving the prisoner the illusion of a possible escape. However, the slippery, sanded-down rock walls and the iron shackles effectively nullified all attempts and crushed the vain hopes of the prisoners. It was an excellent mental torture that played with one's heart.

Finally, a guard was stationed outside each pit to monitor each prisoner and to provide them with just enough food to survive but not recover their strength. Not only was the presence of the strong guard a potential failsafe against any accident, but it also ensured that the prisoner only passed away after undergoing a long, inhumane torture that was certain to drive any sane person, mad.

It went without saying that whoever designed this nefarious prison was an ultimate sadist.

It also went without saying that the threat of such an inhuman punishment effectively translated to greater order within the Iron Rhino Tribe. No single person wanted to undergo such torture which by extension turned them into obedient inhabitants.

Currently, of the thirty or so 'prison pits,' only a single one was occupied. Its occupant was a foreigner whom the tribe's warriors had managed to capture a week ago. The pit was being guarded by one of the Iron Rhino Tribe's personnel; a warrior named Mamo.

Mamo stood tall holding an iron spear in his hands. His naked upper body was tattooed with the warrior's mark of the Iron Rhino Tribe, showing his affiliation and status. He wore a beast-skin skirt which covered his lower body and a pair of anklets which was crafted from the teeth of the Coiling Dark Serpent.

Mamo was a dutiful man and a fierce warrior. He was one of the more talented ones in his generation. However, due to issues with his conduct, he had been removed from the tribe's war parties and had been forced to undertake guard duty. Warrior Mamo, while indignant and furious, stuck to his orders and loyally upheld this task.

Guarding the pits was simple, boring and wholly unworthy of being performed by a warrior of Mamo's repute. The task simply involved standing outside the pit on guard and routinely checking up on the condition of the prisoner. Sometimes, he would have to clear the piled-up snow on the wooden roof above the pit. In the event that the prisoner passed away, he would also be responsible for clearing the pit and preparing it for its next occupant.

Warrior Mamo stood bare-chested, looking wistfully at the dark and stormy sky. The weather had recently taken a turn for the worse and the signs of a storm had appeared. Keenly observing the changes in the sky, Mamo could confidently state that tonight was the night that the storm would fully manifest and blow.

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In the Hielands, the power of nature was fierce and worthy of respect. Even though he was strong, Mamo knew that he would not be able to tank the fury of tonight's storm. He would have to head to shelter and bunker down until the storm blew over.

As he thought about this, Mamo cast a stray glance towards the pit. 'He is not going to survive tonight.'

Mamo did not know who the imprisoned foreigner was or what his crimes were. However, he knew him to be a pitiful creature. His body had been laughably weak and even his cultivation seemed to have been crippled. All in all, he was a pathetic weakling.

Still, unlike his tribesmen, Mamo had a soft spot for the 'weak.' In fact, it was this very same soft spot that had doomed him of his prospects and confined him to this unworthy vocation.

Over this past week, Mamo had come to realize a few things about this foreign prisoner; he was incredibly quiet.

Having been a guard for over a year, Mamo knew that even the strongest of warriors had had their wills broken after being imprisoned. The intense discomfort and mental torture saw the prisoners wailing for their mothers and gods after a mere two days of imprisonment.

On this front, this pathetically weak foreign prisoner was exceptional. Even though a week had passed since the addition of the Flesh-Nibbling Leeches, Mamo had yet to hear even a whimper of pain from the man. He had been so eerily quiet that Mamo had to occasionally worry whether the man had silently passed away or not. The strength of his will was simply unimaginable.

Mamo knew better than most just how tortuous being imprisoned in the prison pits could be. And it was precisely owing to this knowledge that he developed a feeling of respect for the prisoner.

'For the world to lose such an iron-willed man; it is a shame, indeed.' Alas, as a warrior of the Iron Rhino Tribe, he was bound to his duty irrespective of his personal feelings.

Just as Mamo was lost in his thoughts, a low voice tickled at his ears. "M…y… so…n…"

Mamo's head shot up with intense surprise. His eyes grew hurried and panicked as he scanned his surroundings. "Who-!? Who's there!?!"

"S...av…e… me… m…y…son…"

Mamo's face turned pale as his wariness drained from his face. His large eyes were brimming with tears. He recognized that hoarse whisper. How could he not? That… was the voice of his mother.

"Mother!? Is that you!? Where are you!!?" Mamo's actions grew more hurried. A rush of emotions filled his head and his thumping heart forced him to act. The voice belonged to his mother and it appeared that she was in danger. Mamo had to save her. He had to!

"MOTHER!!" Mamo howled, his scream eventually getting lost in the furious storm winds which had begun to manifest.

Just then, Warrior Mamo felt a hand touching his shoulder. His entire body jumped at the sudden contact causing him to immediately spin around and nearly stab the newcomer. Fortunately, he managed to stop himself before his spear had made contact.

"Wh-what!? Mamo!! Are you mad!?" An enraged voice furiously scolded.

It took a moment for Mamo to make sense of his situation. He carefully squinted his eyes and evaluated the newcomer. "Varu? Is it you?"

Varu, who held a pot in his hands, rolled his eyes and replied, "Who else could it be? What possessed you to try and stab me, your friend?"

"I—I don't know." An embarrassed look covered Mamo's face. He then shook his head and asked while pointing at his friend. "Have you brought him food?"

Varu nodded his head. "That aside, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost?"

Mamo touched his face. He did not know why but his hands felt colder than normal. Still, not wanting to needlessly worry his dear friend, he nodded his head and answered. "I'm fine. Perhaps, it's the weather that is making me look like this."

"Ah, yes. There is going to be a storm tonight. The shamans have ordered everyone to return home and hide within until the weather has passed." Varu then walked towards the pit while speaking. "Let me pour this down and then we'll head back together."

Mamo did not reply. A peculiar expression overcame his face as his eyes grew glazed and distracted.

"Poor bastard, isn't he? The one within? I don't think he's going to survive the night."

Mamo's shoulder slumped and his gait became loose. His grip on his spear, however, curiously tightened.

"Say, did he ever scream? Haha, the bastard might look like a woman but he's the toughest one to ever visit this place."

Warrior Mamo's breaths grew heavier and hurried. He stepped forward and neared the pit.

"Hmm? Why aren't you saying anything? What are you—!!" Varu's words came to a premature end. The edge of Mamo's spear fell with a sharp slash. Varu's headless body fell.

Warrior Mamo stood with a blank expression on his face. His eyes were glazed and empty. He looked like a possessed corpse.

"M…y…son…S…ave…m…e…" He heard the hoarse whispers once again. Only this time, Warrior Mamo was certain of their point of origin.

He kicked aside Varu's headless body and neared the pit. He then retrieved the rope from the nearby wooden post and lowered it into the pit. With a loose expression and absent gaze, he slowly replied. "I'm coming, mother. I'm coming to save you."