Chapter 23: The Fate Of The Royal Adviser (Part Three)

       The sun had risen at its highest peak as the giant ball of fire itself in the floating middle of the vast, clear blue sky.  Everyone had taken shelter under the roofs of their homes to avoid being fried without oil under the sizzling temperature outside. However, the hardworking farmers who bathed on their own sweats only had the guts to battle the intense heat. Some were plowing their fields. Some were mourning about their crops' curling leaves as their usual green color slowly turned into hopeless brown.

       But no matter how strikingly bright and hellishly burning outside, the jail remained eternally dark and incomparably freezing. It was like the jail was made of snow.

      Mon couldn't take his eyes off the gloomy face of the other prisoners behind him, clinging their pitiful hands unto the cold iron bars of the jail. Their faces were painted with hopelessness and