"Don't drink it!" It wasn't just Aragon who yelled out in protest; Questasa, whose arm had been chopped off, also shouted loudly against it.
"Little brother, run, get out of here fast. I'm not afraid to die. You just have to remember to avenge me!" Aragon roared as he deliberately lunged towards the executioner's blade.
But the underworld strongman didn't accord with his wish, instead he kicked Aragon to the ground, "Your life is in my hands, whether you live or die is for me to decide."
Holding Aragon down, the underworld strongman once again lifted up the chalice of Soul Water, "Do you want to drink it?"
Once the Soul Water was consumed, one would become a puppet at the mercy of others, and the underworld would surely use him to knock open the gates of one domain after another. He couldn't drink it!
But if he didn't drink it, how could Aragon be saved?
