Berserk: The Prophet

The twenty-fifth day in Grant's Prison.

Inside the cell, the once crowded space now held only five people. Their eyes were vacant, their bodies emaciated, their skin clinging to their bones, like walking skeletons. Hunger had pushed them to the brink of collapse; their sanity was being slowly eroded, leaving only the most primal instinct—the craving for food.

That was a hunger that could drive anyone to madness...

On the fifteenth day, the shadow puppeteers stopped giving them vegetable soup and replaced it with animal blood.

The raw fish had a foul odor, and the animal blood was hard to swallow...

In those days of eating raw meat and drinking blood, suffering from hunger and cold...

They've been completely driven to become wild beasts; the children have almost forgotten who they are, where they come from, and where their home is...

The only sensation in the darkness was endless hunger, so much so that my stomach ached unbearably, so much so that I vomited pinkish gastric juice...

Green huddled in the corner, his stomach contracting and spasming, waves of excruciating pain washing over him. He could even feel his heartbeat slowing, each beat feeling like it was using its last ounce of strength. A voice kept echoing in his mind: "Hunger...hunger...starving...ah..."

"...Why endure such hunger? You have the strength to enjoy food all by yourself..." The demonic whispers echoed in my ears, as if its claws had clung to my body like a dragon. Perhaps, it was the most primal animalistic instinct driving my body's primal instincts.

If you lose your animalistic instincts, you will have nothing...

"...Abandon that child; you've only met by chance." "You can't even take care of yourself!!" *Thump thump thump thump...*

As time went on, the children's behavior became increasingly like that of wild animals. They began to fight over scraps of food, even at the cost of harming their own kind. Their eyes lost all human emotion, leaving only greed for food and a thirst for survival.

In the darkness, Green felt an unprecedented loneliness. His heart was in turmoil, his body craved food, but his reason told him he couldn't give up! Green began desperately trying to recall his past, the training he had with Gus, and the beautiful memories that had existed in his life.

In this situation, all the fleeting beauty and memories of the past seem so pale and powerless!

Instead, countless memories filled with negative emotions surged forth uncontrollably...

"...You jinx, it's all your fault!!" "If it weren't for you, your mother wouldn't have died..." "A jinx...brings misfortune..."

On the verge of losing all reason, pain...sadness...unwillingness...

I'm not... I'm not!!

Memories surged back: the punches and kicks from my father, the fights with my peers, the painful welts from the whip, the sinful and blood-soaked hands...

"You've killed children before, what are you hesitating for?! It's just to survive!!!" The beast inside roared incessantly, its voice filled with despair and an extreme thirst for survival.

The raging beast in their minds roared wildly, baring its fangs. The only place in the darkness where they could see light was where the food was delivered. When the food arrived, the children rushed forward with their hands eager to reach it.

The body... involuntarily, like a wild beast, bared its claws and pounced. The stench of the fish became the only sweet nectar, and the blood became the ultimate taste sensation.

I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...

When animalistic instincts take over, the body naturally performs its most primal behaviors: fighting, biting, gnawing, chewing, swallowing...

When the body is on the verge of death, the most primal desires in life are always selfish.

The long-lost feeling of fullness... I'm finally not so hungry anymore...

Wait...why? It's so quiet today...them? Why aren't they fighting me for food anymore?

A bloody stench filled the cage. Green looked back and saw the children devouring the corpse of their companion!

Green stared in horror at the scene before him, unable to believe that these children could do such a cruel thing.

He tried to calm himself down, but the fear kept surging up inside him.

"...What are you doing?!" Green roared in near despair. Their morality had completely degenerated to the point where they could no longer be called human.

Every child was desperately trying to absorb nutrients for their bodies; they were wolfing down, tearing, and gnawing at the food with almost frenzied gluttony...

Where is Hanks? ...Where did that skinny boy go?

Green scanned the children's faces one by one in the dark cage. Their blood-covered faces and eyes revealed the madness of finally getting food.

These three people are not that child at all! The one being devoured is that skinny little Hanks who always has a fresh story to tell!

The only thing that could sustain sanity in despair has vanished...

"Ah ah ah ah ah!!!"

"You guys deserve to die!!!"

The totem on its chest glowed with a fierce red light, and the golden part on its dorsal fin turned completely scarlet. It seemed to be awakening, and its open vertical pupils also shone with a blood-red ominous sign.

This was a one-sided massacre...

Blood-red dragon scales covered his hands, and his nails became incredibly sharp. An intense thirst for slaughter welled up within him, and in the blink of an eye, his claws had ripped open the Devourer's chest, crushing its organs into foam in his palms.

"...I want blood!"

The fangs had long thirsted for blood, and at this moment... it seemed difficult to distinguish which one was the real monster.

The splattering blood sprayed and stained the prison bars opposite, causing even those who had long been raised as beasts to tremble in a long-lost shiver.

It seems that a terrifying monster was born in that cage.

They had never longed for the strength of this prison as much as they did now.

.........

In stark contrast to Green's situation was an unassuming private residence in Wyndam.

Sunlight filtered through the half-drawn curtains, casting dappled shadows on the wooden floor. Here, far removed from the clamor of the court and the struggles for power, only the sounds of wooden swords clashing outside the window and the gentle guidance of an old man could be heard.

"...Your Highness, you're not fast enough."

The old man, once a master swordsman in the imperial court, is now sparring with a silver-haired boy, wielding a single-handed wooden sword.