Chapter 77 Chapter 46: Interrogation (2)
The only reason Noyar and Shailyn could go so long with the tremendous pain and fatigue was visualisation. It’s the most fundamental technique all practitioners need to learn.
I have progressed in it as well, but I’m far from getting close to the level of the two of them who achieved unity and could ignore most of the pain, distractions, and steeled their mind during combat.
After leaving Shailyn to figure out anything of the texts, I steeled my mind, imagining burning flames. I put everything into the flame, my emotions, insecurities, worries, as the fire burned them, leaving me empty of most of them.
“I’m ready,” I muttered, slapping my cheek lightly.
Now, it’s time for some serious questioning.
When I reached the spot, William was not struggling in the slightest. He remained still, as if meditating. Clicking my tongue, I went straight to him, crouching down.
“I left Shailyn busy with something, so we’ll have some time alone,” I said, removing the bag from his head. “Are you going to keep quiet even now?”
William stared at me for a good second before licking his lips. “What makes you think you can open my mouth?” he said, eyes spiteful and full of contempt.
I tilted my head, thinking. It seemed the imaginary flames couldn’t burn all the emotions out, at least not the anger.
“Ahh, you don’t look so good. Are you thirsty?” At that moment, I caught his head by the hair, and pulled it to the pond, jerking forward. “Here, have some water.”
It was over six hours since Shailyn shattered the layer of ice from the pool and that much time was enough to form layers of ice yet again and it seemed thick enough to endure the first assault. No matter, I pulled back William's head and lurched again with even more momentum.
Finally, the ice cracked, and with another strike, William eventually got a taste of the water. I pushed him down until all of his head was underwater and started counting inwardly.
William, who kept his posture and decorum even after his capture, started to struggle like a fish out of water after only half a dozen seconds. It's not just a breathing problem, the water was cold enough to cause a brain freeze as well.
I thought about keeping at it counting to thirty, however, remembering what this warlock did, I counted till sixty. Well, I needed to get some answers from him, after all.
William’s chest heaved up and down like a frantic dog, which reminded me, this world doesn’t have dogs. Well, Stonehounds are not dogs, nor do they become frantic like dogs.
“Are you ready to open your mouth yet?” I pulled the chain to make him upright, treating him no better than a stonehound. “Be a good dear, and answer my question.”
William still breathed unsteadily, eyes wavering at me. His head was swollen a bit, with a red patch—great, I would have to listen to some lecture from Shailyn for that. Well, no matter, this goes well with Scar’s original nature, and more importantly, I would need some answers.
“Why did you go after Yeriel?” I asked in a level tone. “Don’t try to deny it. You didn’t try to kill her, but wanted to capture her, but eventually, she got the better of you with the sympathetic hairpin. Tell me what you wanted with her?”
William stared at me, eyes fuming even though his body was shivering in the cold. “She’s precious,” he said finally.
“I know,” I said, pulling the chain closer, as William’s head struggled to move upwards. “That’s why you need her. But what do you intend to do with her?”
William didn’t answer, gritting his teeth and remained still with his head peeking upwards uncomfortably. Not uncomfortably, this was utterly painful.
“It’s something related to the Winterheart Reindeer, right?” I asked, calculating with the knowledge I had from reading Forbidden Realms previously. I rested the chain as the Warlock fell on his back, groaning.
“Yeriel is precious, and I know why you say that. Her Spirit nature is the purest, with no coercion or entanglement. It's almost impossible for someone like her to exist, and Human too.” William’s eyes widened as I continued, “The pure nature of her makes her an ideal ingredient for Dark arts, the most precious ingredient a warlock can hope for. You wanted to corrupt her and control her, didn’t you?”
William remained silent, but a lot more uncomfortable now, or it's just the cold. Nope, definitely not just the cold.
“Is it something you came up with or something your associate, this Rojar Iker, knew about?” I asked again, paying close attention to William’s eyes, and facial muscles.
They were almost perfect with no sign of nervousness in them other than the wavering. There’s no way for me to tell the difference. But I tried, nevertheless. It’s not always a masterful lie or the truth, sometimes, just making the other party sure you know everything—some fabrication of the perception, does the trick. It did when I captured him—
“William, William, you betrayed both sides, didn’t you?”
—and it did this time as well.
I forced all of my stray thoughts that came with this revelation into the imaginary flame in my mind, burning them. Pulling the chain with my good arm again, I brought William to my eye level.
I got some form of confirmation of what I presumed, but all that was not enough. For starters, I . . . we have no clues where the rogue dark practitioners were hiding. With the mountain range so vast, not to mention in this weather, it's almost impossible to search them out, especially when there’s only about half a day left.
And then there was Yeriel, I had a faint idea what William was trying to do with her, and it's nothing but terrible.
“Listen, I’ll wait ten seconds for you to open your mouth and be truthful about everything, or I’ll purge you of all the dark power you've accumulated. Trust me on this, it wouldn’t be everything but gentle as I did with Shailyn. Do you know what soul burn feels like?”
I armed the chain in my palm with the flames of purgatory and protected it as well, so that it wouldn’t melt away. The chains lit up in red, creating enough heat to make William scream. Burning scars appeared on his arms where the chain was bound together.
“Your time starts now.”
“Ten.”
“Nine.”
“. . .”
“Four.”
“Three.”
William was on the verge of breaking and at that very moment, a shout echoed from behind.
“Light, what are you doing?” Noyar shouted, resting her shawl.
My shoulder slumped down as the fiery energy left the chains and William’s body staggered to the ground. I only needed a minute more. Couldn’t she have waited for that long? Then I noticed the nasty-looking scar on William’s arms. Did I go a little overboard?
Noyar didn’t wait for my answer, she strode forward to check William. She checked the burn marks and wet hair and all things cleared to her.
Making sure, it was only a flesh wound, she turned. “I didn’t expect this from you.”
I dropped the act, shaking my head. The flames vanished from my mind, and the recognition of what I did struck me at once. Weirdly, I didn’t feel much about it, which sickened me more.
I just inflicted pain on someone else. Ignoring that person was a criminal, I had never done this before, and here I felt almost nothing, burning someone’s hand.
I unconsciously rubbed my hair, questioning what had happened to me. Sighing, I calmed down, bottling down everything about it.
“I may have overdone a little,” I muttered. This act of mine was almost befitting of my name. Well, I did get some conformation, so it was not a total loss. Ignoring my conscience, it's some form of progress—not the type I would like, of course.
“A little?” Noyar questioned, voice high, eyes glaring. “Perhaps it's what he deserves, but you’re no executioner, not a torturer. Or are you trying to be one, Oscar Emberheart? You’re not even a Knight or Magus, and even if you were, your duty only limits to capturing them, not to torture them.”
I looked away from Noyar’s gaze, with my introverted personality acting up.
Noyar became silent for a moment and then continued again with a softer tone. “Tell me, do you want to be burdened with hard decisions? Do you want to be the judge and decide who lives and who dies?”
“No,” I said, sighing. But sometimes, we all had to do what we never like to do.
“You’re still young. You don’t understand what this does to you. For each of the scars you inflict on others, you inflicted them on yourself as well.“
I unconsciously touched the scar on my forehead.
“If you go on like this, someday, you become something else, someone stranger, you never wanted to be.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, head down, biting my lips, “it's just . . .”
I’m too damn frustrated with all the crap flying towards me. The unexpected attack from Althan for something I never did, and then, I killed someone, burned someone’s face, and watched a good man die. Still, it's no better to vent it on someone else, not even that someone was a criminal.
“I know you’re frustrated after what you’ve been through,” Noyar said, clasping my shoulder. “But don’t let it claim you. Don’t let it make you something like him.”
Noyar drew my attention towards William, who was looking at me scornfully. Certainly, I don’t want to be like him, not even a bit. I was about to open my mouth, however, William beat me to it with a frantic laugh.
“Noyar, you can pity me?” William screamed, laughing as if all of his sanity was leaving him. “You think you are all better than me? Fools, bloody, light-blinded fools! You have no idea what I have done to get here and I deserve to be here. I deserve to be more. It's because of your bloody noble society that I had to take shortcuts.”
William stopped, taking in air, but the look of pity still remained in Noyar’s eyes, which irked the warlock even more.
“Woman, don’t look at me with those eyes, I don’t need your pity,” William bellowed again. “I’m sick of those bloody eyes, always telling me you’re better than me. I don’t need your pity. You think you've won already, heh . . . heh . . . heh. Save the dozen warders first, then you can think of getting through me.”
The wretched warlock finally stopped, his chest still heaved up and down, inhaling and exhaling air. Well, well, he finally did crack.
“What’s happening here?” Shailyn came in running, hearing the screams.
“The situation got more complicated,” Noyar said, shaking her head. “Come on, we need to get out.”
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