Chapter 123

A week later.

In the cold underground torture chamber, only the dried-up screams of a hoarse throat echoed.

“Kyaaaaak!!!!”

“Kill me! Just kill me, you crazy bastard!!!”

It’s still too early. These bastards should taste at least a fraction of the pain they inflicted on their victims before they die. So… there’s still a long way to go. The young man and woman who picked a fight with me were said to be the squad leaders of Gawain’s direct unit.

That bastard Gawain… At first, his traces couldn’t be found, but his body was discovered 20 kilometers away from the explosion site. Because of that, the death toll from the explosion increased to three. The old butler who served the Holstead family, the aforementioned Gawain, and Count Holstead, who was the Crown Prince’s loyal servant.

I didn’t know him well. In fact, I only had one face-to-face conversation with him, and even that was a short meeting that didn’t even last 20 minutes. If I were to mourn for him or shed tears, it would be crocodile tears. At least, I wasn’t evil enough to insult such a person with fake sorrow and crocodile tears.

“Bring me some heated iron tongs.”

“But Lord Werner… Why heated tongs and not a branding iron…”

“Tongs… are not only good for gripping something… but also for prying things open. And if they’re hot, even better.”

I didn’t know much about what kind of person Count Holstead was. But I did know that he was a good lord who, while committing suicide by blowing up a 1-kilometer radius, advised the nearby residents to evacuate, and the residents followed such a sudden order. That alone was enough reason to torture these trash.

“Lord Werner, I’ve brought the heated iron tongs!”

Even the experienced torturer seemed quite nervous.

“See this? We’ll shave off all the hair on your body, cut off your fingers and toes, drive some nails into your body, coat your body with lacquer, keep you awake, pierce one of your eardrums with an awl, and pull out some teeth. Don’t exaggerate, just watch.”

I showed them the sight of the red-hot tongs tapping the floor.

“See? What should I do with this? Let me tell you in advance, I don’t have a hobby of cooking for trash like you.”

“Then what are you going to…”

“Expansion work. I plan to expand all the holes in your body.”

At those words, their faces instantly darkened. Well, it’s definitely one of the more vicious torture methods I know.

“If you don’t like it, I’ll save one of you. I’ll only kill the most trashy bastard among you.”

Then the two started to tear each other apart. One said he dissected a 7-year-old child to see what was inside, another raped a daughter in front of her father, made decorations out of human skin, burned people alive… It was all disgusting stories.

“Alright, I’ve decided.”

An ancient sage once said, when faced with a choice, just choose both. Isn’t that the wisdom behind mixed noodles or half-and-half chicken? Those who admired my wisdom responded with sharp screams and pleas to kill them.

The smell of cooking meat rose in the air.

“Let’s stop the torture here. There’s no information to gain from these bastards anyway.”

Most of the information had already been sent by Count Holstead in a letter to the Crown Prince, so it was unnecessary. The torture so far wasn’t for information but just to inflict pain. But listening to the trash talk, I got a bit heated.

“Lord Werner, what should we do with these guys now…?”

“Sell them to a brothel in the slums where the security is terrible. Oh, and don’t forget to break their arms, legs, tendons, pull out their tongues, and burn their eyes.”

“What about the man…”

“Sell him too. There are plenty of people in the slum brothels who don’t care about that.”

“Yes!”

After disposing of the trash, the blood on my clothes and face bothered me. Blood is annoyingly sticky; it’s hard to wash off clothes and difficult to scrape off your face. Plus, the nauseating stench is a bonus. It’s the hardship of those who live in the shadows, always having blood on them.

“…Have you finished your work, sir?”

“Yes, Your Highness…”

Seeing the Crown Prince looking somewhat haggard, the death of his loyal servant must have been quite a shock. After all, Holstead had been a loyal subordinate and friend since the Crown Prince was young, so it’s a natural reaction.

“What brings you here? This doesn’t seem like a place for someone like Your Highness…”

“I came to discuss the contents of Count Holstead’s letter and… about Gawain’s body.”

“…I should listen.”

First, the contents of Holstead’s letter were as follows: The Black Round Table is currently collecting various items from all over the country. Relics used by heroes like Werner, various magic swords, rare magic books, and even cursed corpses and objects… They were out of their minds.

Moreover, they were targeting the Spirit Kings. Most Spirit Kings’ whereabouts are uncertain, so they must be struggling. But the starting point of all this was the suspiciously high iron production in Holstead’s territory.

“So… in the end, Count Holstead lost everything because of iron.”

“Yes… It’s a tragic fact, but…”

“Those Black Round Table bastards are truly unforgivable…”

Another fool died on his own. The kind of fool who prioritizes others over himself.

“And there’s something suspicious about the death of that man, Gawain.”

“What exactly…”

“First, the location where the body was found was strange. He should have been caught in the explosion, but he was found 20 kilometers away…”

“Well, he’s a monster, so he must have run until he ran out of strength.”

“Yes, I thought so too, so I thoroughly investigated the area.”

Then the Crown Prince took out a scroll from his pocket.

“It’s a report from the subordinate in charge of the investigation.”

After checking the report, I couldn’t help but be surprised.

It contained the testimony of an eyewitness who saw the scene again. When the commotion broke out and people gathered near Count Holstead’s mansion, the witness was on his way back from selling iron ore in a nearby village.

He saw a blond man with burns all over his body crawling on the ground, trying to leave the village. But then a black-haired elf appeared, and the blond man grabbed the elf’s hem, begging for help… The black-haired elf retrieved some items from him and then left him there. The blond man screamed and eventually collapsed and died.

“It’s the testimony of the person who first found the body. So it must be true.”

The blond man must be that bastard Gawain… and the black-haired elf is definitely…

“Your Highness… Could you investigate a man named Raven Peony?”

“If his surname is Peony…”

“Don’t ask, don’t question… and don’t tell anyone.”

“Yes, if it’s your request…”

My head was aching in many ways. I went outside to get some fresh air, but all sorts of thoughts scattered like drafts, messing up my mind. The Black Round Table. Raven, Airi, Glacia, Lorcha, Camelian… There were too many elements to worry about.

“By the way, my master.”

“Damn, you scared me.”

Oh right, this guy was here too. The Iron Spirit King Armadura. The one I contracted with in Holstead’s iron mine.

“Can we finish the story we couldn’t finish last time?”

“Sure, go ahead. It can’t be more serious than the worries I’m carrying now.”

Anyway, my head feels like it’s going to explode, so it’s fine to know who my parents are. It doesn’t matter if they’re living well, and I won’t be too sad if they’re dead. As long as they don’t come to me living well and try to suck me dry, it’s a relief.

“We Spirit Kings were all created by the Primordial Mother. That Primordial Mother is the goddess worshipped by humans.”

Yeah, it sounds like a game’s backstory explanation. The goddess who uses a crow as her avatar, right?

“The Primordial Mother was so bored that she created us under the pretext of making pets by tearing off her nails.”

I didn’t know there was such a dirty creation myth.

“But in the end, the Mother pitied the humans on this planet and sent us down to this star.”

So you’re not a Spirit King but an alien.

“And the Mother personally molded a new soul with her hands. And the human born from that soul is…”

“Who is it? My mother?”

“No, Lord Werner, it’s you.”

“…Damn, wait a minute… Explain it so I can understand, you hedgehog bastard.”