Chapter 229: Torture and Inquisition
Avia was naturally well-acquainted with this peculiar curio, which Wang Yu often used as a notebook to record key knowledge and events.
The moment the book appeared in the air, she reached out to catch it. With a thread of mental energy, she communicated with the object—now unbound from Wang Yu—and made herself its new owner.
She opened the pages. The writing upon them was a script only she and Wang Yu could understand: Chinese, from his homeland of Earth.
"A curio... and this language—could it be native to Wang Yu's homeland?" someone murmured.
Avia didn't hide the contents of the book. Instead, she held it open for all present to see. Yet even the most erudite among them, Sieg, furrowed his brow upon seeing the text, unable to recognize a single character.
"I'll try a translation spell—hmph, no good..."
With the void, Charles cast a spell meant to decipher unknown languages. But as he blinked, perplexed, he found that the characters remained unchanged—it was still that messy, barely legible scrawl of Chinese, totally incomprehensible to him.
"It's alright. I can read it."
Avia waved her hand to reassure them. In this world, it was likely that only she and Wang Yu could decipher the script.
To decode a language required not just data and testing but context—cultural understanding. Chinese, born of Earth's modern digital age, teemed with ambiguity, slang, and cultural nuance. Attempting to decipher it through symbolic or cryptographic methods would be a fool's errand.
After all, without an understanding of Earth's culture, who could understand its sarcasm, innuendo, or references to utterly unique phenomena?
Even a language-based magic like Common Tongue could not bridge the gap. That spell functioned by drawing upon echoes in the void—impressions left behind by souls when a language was spoken or written.
But Wang Yu's soul was impenetrable to the void, and Avia's soul was shielded by mental defenses. Thus, Chinese became a cipher, an uncrackable code known only to the two of them.
Avia's eyes scanned the bloodstained script Wang Yu had scrawled in his crude, familiar handwriting. The interval between the death of the wizard and the collapse of the pocket space conjured by her latent ability had been brief—he only had a few seconds in which to write.
She read in silence, then paused, processing.
Finally, she looked up. Her voice was heavy, edged with fury, as she pronounced two words: "the royals."
None among them reacted with surprise. Even before she had spoken, they had suspected as much.
The descent of the God of Terror, the many strange occurrences too numerous to be coincidence—it all pointed in one direction: the kingdom's rulers.
And among all the forces still untouched by the catastrophe that had befallen the capital, only the royal family had both the motive and the means to move against Wang Yu.
"But why?" Charles muttered in indignation. "What reason could those bastards have to go after him? He has no political power, no lineage that might threaten the throne. He's not even particularly famous. A mere honorary viscount, at best. Unless..."
His voice trailed off. Doubt crept in. Was Wang Yu really so insignificant?
Perhaps his low profile had made others forget the roles he had played in pivotal events: the vampire incident, the demonic incursion, the academy crisis...
Wang Yu had been present for each of these tumultuous events. He had even been hailed as the hero who saved Stevenson Academy.
And his status as Archbishop of the Church of Nightfall was no longer a secret. He had created the Prayer Network, which radically altered the balance between the royal family and the Nightblades.
Then there was the incident outside the palace where Hahn and his son were slain by a shadowy figure after confronting Wang Yu. Even though he had been cleared, the nobles—and the palace—had certainly taken note.
"If the captain had chosen vengeance," Charles murmured, "then the mission to the abyss would've been left to Wang Yu. Which means... the royal family began scheming against him from that moment."
A chill passed through him. The royal family was a colossal entity, with eyes and ears everywhere. Its power was all but omniscient.
He had some ability to glimpse fragments of the future, and even that couldn't match the scope of their foresight.
"It was the Prayer Network," Sieg said coldly. "That's what turned the royal family against him. A new talent rising—that they can tolerate. Talent can be controlled, co-opted. But that network...
"They cannot abide the chains on the Nightblades being broken. To them, it's an unacceptable variable. They cannot do without the Nightblades—and so they must strike at the source, even if it achieves nothing."
Sieg spoke with chilling clarity. His own ordeal—his sister's life held as a hostage—had stripped away any illusions he once held. The royal family had torn the mask of righteousness they had worn for decades, revealing the ugly truth beneath.
With Selwyn's threat extinguished and the troublesome new nobility eradicated, the royal family now held absolute power—save for the four great dukes of the borderlands, who kept to themselves.
"We Nightblades once turned a blind eye to the injustices of the royal family for the sake of the kingdom's peace, and for the lives of its people. But that forbearance does not grant them the right to target our own.
"This time," said Gilbert solemnly, "we will not stand aside. Wang Yu, the man who brought a renaissance to the Nightblades, will not be abandoned."
The other team captains nodded in agreement.
"Thank you, everyone," Avia said. "Our next objective is to locate Wang Yu's whereabouts. Only then can we mount a rescue. I will take on that responsibility.
"I'll perform a full spatial coordinate sweep of the palace grounds. As long as there's an anomaly, I can find it. Within three days, I will complete the sweep. After that—I'll ask all of you to strike with me."
She bowed deeply. The resolve in her eyes was no mere emotion—it was a tangible force. Avia, wholly focused on a singular objective, was fearsome to behold.
And this matter concerned the one person she cherished most. Even if the enemy were the God of Light himself—let alone the royal family—Avia would still rise to the challenge.
"Will you be alright?" Charles asked, concerned. "Even a basic coordinate sweep involves powerful spatial spells. The immense toll on body and mind..."
As a magician and a wizard, Charles was the only one present who grasped the magnitude of the plan Avia had proposed. To exhaustively scan the entire royal palace for coordinates using magic and wizardry within three days—it sounded absurd, if not outright impossible.
"I can do it. And more than that—I must do it."
Avia didn't hesitate in the slightest. She responded with unwavering resolve.
"I understand. If you need help, just ask me. My family can provide you with some funds and alchemical materials, at the very least."
Charles said little more. The look in Avia's eyes made it clear that any attempt to talk her down was futile. What she needed was belief and support, not doubt.
"My apologies for being unconscious all this while. I only just awoke. Miss Sue has told me everything that happened to Wang Yu. I also listened to your discussion just now through the comms.
"Miss Avia, you needn't go to such extremes. I have a better way to locate Wang Yu. I want to thank him—and Father Fang. It was because of them that I finally came to terms with who I am. So at the very least, allow me to do something for him with my newfound status."
Edward's voice rang clearly in everyone's ears, right after Charles had finished speaking. Compared to the hesitant boy of the past, his voice now bore a marked maturity and steely determination. And with it came news that rekindled their hope.
Meanwhile, in the shadows of a damp and dismal dungeon, Rudolf clicked his tongue in dark fascination. He gazed upon Wang Yu, who hung from chains against the wall, wrists and ankles bound in iron. Several bloody holes marred his chest.
"...Your body truly is a marvel. Truth serum gets flushed from your system like it was nothing. An overdose causes your body to start collapsing, cell by cell. Not even wizardry or magic can halt this unraveling. Is it really that hard to get you to talk?"
Previously, in an attempt to extract information, Rudolf had administered Wang Yu a variety of truth serums. When the dosage was low, Wang Yu remained unaffected.
But the moment it crossed his physical limit, his body began to deteriorate in ways no spell could reverse.
This rendered drug-induced interrogation almost useless. They didn't care for his life—Wang Yu was, after all, little more than an intermediate knight. What they needed were the secrets he held.
"If I didn't have more pressing tasks, I'd gladly dissect you. Not just that fascinating body of yours, but also your uncanny resistance to mental intrusion. I didn't take it seriously when I first read about it in the reports. But after seeing it for myself... it's truly extraordinary."
Rudolf ran a hand over Wang Yu's bloodstained torso, eyes gleaming with both fascination and frustrated desire.
"I've told you already," Wang Yu rasped, voice hoarse and low. "The Prayer Network has nothing to do with me. You're wasting your time."
"Really?"
Rudolf, with an amused grin, pried open Wang Yu's eyelid and stared into his eye, tongue flicking across his lips.
"I don't believe you. Archbishop of the Church of Nightfall—do you believe that? Between Lady Selene's judgment and my own analysis of the intelligence, I trust mine more. You might be able to mask your abilities, but logic never lies."
Rudolf drove his finger into Wang Yu's eye socket, twisted cruelly, and wrenched the eyeball free.
Blood poured down as Wang Yu's body convulsed slightly. With a grotesque sense of satisfaction, Rudolf crushed the eyeball in his palm under Wang Yu's lone gaze.
"Tell me, Sir Wang Yu. Your mind may be impervious to manipulation—so much so that even Royal Astrologer Selene found herself at a loss. But what of your will? How long can it endure this pain?"
Smiling coldly, Rudolf picked up a finely serrated saw from a nearby table and placed it against Wang Yu's upper arm.
"This saw bears runes I don't fully understand. But I do know it will take twenty-four hours to cut through a limb—and it will make the pain feel several times worse.
"So here's the offer. If you don't want to endure this torment, just give us what we need. Maybe—just maybe—there's a one-in-ten-thousand chance we'll spare your life and exile you to the kingdom's farthest borders."
He leaned close, whispering in Wang Yu's ear with the voice of a devil offering salvation.
"..."
Wang Yu said nothing.
The saw clattered to the floor. Rudolf didn't use it. He merely tossed it aside with a sigh while he paced the room with a shrug.
"I knew it. These tricks don't work on your kind. Who was the last one we got to talk this way? Ah—right. Some unfortunate scapegoat. Seems the only way to break knights like you is this." His voice dropped suddenly. The levity winked out. Rudolf pulled something from his robes. Wang Yu, with his remaining eye, recognized it instantly—the same iron spike the advanced knight had used to stab him in the gut during the ambush.
"I want you to watch your own body lose its extraordinary strength. Watch the fighting spirit woven into your flesh dissipate. As that power rots away and dies, may you resist the urge to beg. But if you do, if you finally speak the truth... then maybe, I'll grant you the mercy of death."
The spike was driven deep into Wang Yu's abdomen. His left eye widened slightly. He could feel it—his fighting spirit flowing toward the spike, only to be repelled and expelled from his body.
"No need to thank me. I've modified the spike specially for you. You'll experience your unraveling at five or six times the usual rate. Let's hope that helps you see the light sooner."
Rudolf patted his head mockingly before turning and walking away, leaving Wang Yu alone in a prison of utter darkness and silence, beyond the reaches of even the faintest light.