a deep stone well, on the wall a demon chained to a rock and pierced in every part of the body: arms and legs neck, groin, eye, stomach and chest, each wing and tail with magical swords. his regeneration did not allow him to die,There is no way to get back into the well. The walls are too smooth and inclined in the opposite direction.

The sound of her voice and the presence of another living being so close yet unreachable caused a surge in his mana regeneration, barely enough to let him whisper "H-help... m-my name i-is Laestor..." before exhausting himself completely.

He whispered her, desperately pleading with his eyes to not let him suffer further before resuming their struggle, hoping that she would find the strength and means to set them both free. The weight of his chains was unbearable, dragging on the wounds they'd been driven through him like the final blows of a merciless executioner. His eyes watered, tears mixing with blood as he forced himself not to let her hear his agony.

"I am alive... because I am not meant to die yet," he whispered through gritted teeth. His eyes were pleading with her, his voice little more than a hoarse rasp. He tried not to flinch as she brushed past his cheek, the contact sending shards of pain racing down his face and into his already ravaged body. "You must help me... find a way..."

The blade of the sword moved slowly, as if wary of the pain it might cause him, but with determination that would not be denied. As she tried to free his throat from its confinement, Laestor winced and bit back a moan of agony. A wave of nausea washed over him, threatening to claim what little strength he had left as the sword drew ever closer to removing the weapon lodged in his neck. He struggled against his bonds, seeking some purchase that might give him leverage or even enough slack to breathe more easily, but his efforts were futile. His regeneration, overwhelmed by the sheer extent of his injuries, had all but stalled, leaving him as vulnerable and helpless as a newborn fawn abandoned on the forest floor.

The sting of the water and the pressure on his throat forced air from his lungs in a pained gasp as she bandaged him. Her touch was unexpectedly gentle, but it wasn't enough to stop the flow of blood seeping through her makeshift dressing. He managed to meet her eyes, grateful yet still uncertain. There was so much that he needed to say, to ask, and he couldn't even speak. His gaze flickered down to the swords that held him prisoner, then back to her again. "Find a way..." he croaked through gritted teeth.

Still weak and wracked with pain, he struggled to wet his lips with the trickle of water she offered. A faint hint of gratitude glimmered in his golden eyes as they closed briefly, taking comfort from her kindness amidst such suffering. He forced himself to speak again, his voice barely audible above the sound of blood rushing through his ears and the endless ache of bone grinding against stone. "If... if you find... way..." He paused, drawing in another shallow breath before continuing, each word an effort, "You... must not... betray me..." His gaze flickered back to her face, pleading for understanding and trust.

"I... will not harm you." His golden eyes held hers, conveying the truth of his words despite their feeble form. "But I must be freed first... Before it's too late..." Each word was agony, but he forced himself to continue, even as fresh waves of pain coursed through him with each breath.

"Please," he gasped, his voice little more than a ragged whisper. "You... must help me... find a way."

He closed his eye against the searing pain as she removed the sword, grateful but unable to express more than a soft groan at her words. "It is... a small price..." he croaked through gritted teeth, struggling to remain conscious despite the agony wracking his body. "Thank you... for your mercy." His breath came in shallow gasps now, each one a dagger driving deeper into his wounded chest with every exhalation.

"Please..." he whispered, the word barely audible above the sound of blood pooling at his feet and dripping into the darkness below. "Find... a way." His voice faded to little more than a whisper, losing strength with each passing moment as his regeneration stalled in the face of such catastrophic injuries.

He tried to focus on her words, but the pain was all-consuming. "Bring... swords... close," he managed to gasp through clenched teeth. Each breath was torture now, a living nightmare where every inhalation only served to deepen the agony of his injuries. "I can't... talk... otherwise..." His vision began to blur as consciousness slipped from him like grains of sand through an hourglass, leaving him barely able to comprehend what was happening around him.

"Please," he whispered once more, his voice almost inaudible now. "Help me..."

His eyes closed as she drew the sword, and he winced in anticipation of the pain that was sure to follow. But instead of agony, there was only a strange tingling sensation throughout his body, growing stronger by the moment. His chest felt lighter, breath coming easier as his regeneration kicked back into high gear.

"What... what did you do?" he asked hoarsely, struggling to open his eyes and meet hers. As understanding dawned on him, a look of gratitude and relief washed over his features. "You brought my mana closer..." His voice trailed off, his gaze flickering between her and the swords before returning to her face.

"Thank you," he managed to choke out through tears of pain and relief. "Thank you for giving me a chance... I promise I'll make it worth your while." The weight of his exhaustion pulled at him

"I will... help you..." He gasped out between ragged breaths, his eyes locked on hers as he struggled to stay conscious. His vision was starting to cloud over, but he forced himself to focus on her, on the hope and trust he saw in her eyes. "Together... we can find a way."

His gaze flickered down to the chains binding him, then back up to meet hers again. The weight of his regeneration surged within him, driving out what little pain remained as it flooded every cell and restored him to full strength. "Tell me... your name," he breathed, feeling surprisingly renewed despite their dire situation. "I must know who stands beside me in this darkness."

The walls of the well seemed to be spinning now, his vision threatening to give out as his body fought to recover from centuries of torture and neglect. But still he clung

"Rina," he repeated softly as she leaned closer with the waterskin, her warmth and strength washing over him like a beacon of hope in the darkness. He drank deeply from the flask, feeling some measure of his former power returning to him with each sip. "We will find a way out together," he promised, gripping her hand as firmly as his aching fingers would allow. "And once we're free, I swear it on my name and all that I am... you shall have whatever you desire."

As he spoke, Laestor gathered what little strength remained to him, summoning the magic stored within every cell of his body. With a mighty effort, he focused that power toward the walls of the well, concentrating on the stones around them as if willing them to move and change shape under his command. For a moment, nothing happened... but then there was a soft creaking sound from deep