"Do you think that would work on me?"

Morticia smirked coldy, her tone devoid of any emotion. "Prisoners have no value in the fiend race, and the last thing they deserve is sympathy. I spared your life because I saw some use in you. So, don't be so smug!"

"Fine, then my answer is the same. I don't wish to repeat myself," Darryl said lightly.

When she realized that her plan did not work, Morticia lost her patience immediately. She said coldly, "I see that you're trying to be noble and strong. Fine, let's see how strong you can be."

Morticia raised her hand again, summoning a ghostly ivory whip.

Morticia could hardly contain her fury. She was one of the twelve Fiend Martyrs, and she was well-respected. No one dared to go against her will.

She was furious because she had tried to keep Darryl alive in front of Archfiend Antigonus, yet Darryl was not willing to compromise at all. He must have had a death wish.

"I made this ivory whip from the bones of a powerful Demon warrior ten th