Chapter 769

Tapping Macaoros’s scales with Durandal’s blade, I demanded he prove his worth if he wanted to live.

Leaving him alone was too dangerous, and if he was useless, there was no reason to keep him alive.

A pile of neatly stacked scales would be dozens of times easier to manage than a prisoner who breathes fire, flies around, and uses magic, right?

“Speak up, oh elegant pink lizard. Why should I believe you’re worth keeping alive?”

“Hmm…”

Macaoros glanced at the sharp blade resting on his neck, twitched the corner of his eye, and finally opened his mouth.

“That question itself isn’t very elegant. Trying to cruelly murder a defenseless prisoner, how barbaric.”

…Should I just kill this guy?

My grip on the hilt tightened.

I started sawing back and forth with the blade, carving marks into his scales.

The sound of grinding echoed as scale fragments scattered like dust.

“…I’ll give you ten seconds. If you can’t convince me in ten seconds, you’ll be lizard skewers for dinner tonight.”

Probably tastes like chicken.

“Alright. Starting now. Ten. Nine. Five. Three…”

“Wait, wait! It was a joke! Just a light jest!”

“Uh…”

“Aren’t you curious about the Dragon Kingdom’s secrets?!”

As the blade literally began to press into his neck, Macaoros dropped his lazy tone and shouted in a panicked voice.

Indeed, for smooth conversation, a bit of lubrication is necessary. Red and warm lubrication.

“For example?”

I moved Durandal, which had been cutting into his scales and flesh, and asked in a tone that doubted he had any national secrets worth my interest.

“Well, there’s a lot. Like the fact that the King of Jin is actually our backer… or the existence the Righteous Faction has hidden beneath their headquarters… or that the Heavenly Demon’s advisor is actually human…”

…Admittedly, some interesting information did come out. Enough to make my ears perk up.

“Wait, wait. The Heavenly Demon—that is, the lizard claiming to be the Heavenly Demon—has a human subordinate?”

I sheathed Durandal, shaking off the blood, and questioned Macaoros about the last piece of intel he blurted out.

The leader of a force that practically divides the Dragon Kingdom has a human as a close aide. I can’t be sure, but this seems like…

…An Apostle, right?

No, really. It’s hard to believe, but you never know.

Isn’t that the specialty of those who operate in the shadows? Infiltrating powerful factions and manipulating their leaders to their own ends.

“What does this human do?”

So, hearing more details wouldn’t hurt.

“Interested now? Too bad.”

However, instead of explaining, Macaoros smiled like a fish that had taken the bait and shook his head.

“I can’t just tell you for free.”

“What?”

I let out a hollow laugh and twitched my eyebrow.

Can’t tell me for free?

Ha, seriously. This isn’t some game company selling the ending as DLC. What’s this guy trying to pull?

He starts acting all smug as soon as I sheathe the sword. I thought I’d applied enough lubrication, but maybe it needed more blood?

“Pink-headed punk, do you not understand the situation? You’re a prisoner. A prisoner. Where do you get off trying to negotiate?”

I gripped the hilt again and growled at him.

“Hey, hey, don’t get so angry. I need to live too, right? If I spill everything, you might just cut my head off right after. I can’t just reveal everything I know.”

Macaoros hurriedly defended himself, saying that if he revealed all his information, he’d be crushed like an empty can.

Well, thinking about it, if I were in his position, I’d probably have the same concern.

Understanding his worry, I decided to reassure him instead of swinging the sword.

“Don’t worry about that. If you cooperate fully, you won’t have to worry about your life for the rest of your days. I may not look like it, but I’m Astraea’s Saintess, you know? Can’t you trust the words of such a person?”

“Even a conscience has its limits. Would you believe that if you were me?”

…It didn’t go over too well.

—

Macaoros stubbornly insisted that no amount of torture would make him talk, and without the means to increase his sensitivity 3000-fold, I had no choice but to accept his conditions and seek a compromise.

His condition was simple and clear.

He wouldn’t reveal any information until the Empire officially accepted his asylum and declared him a citizen of the Empire.

He probably thought that once recognized as an Empire citizen, he’d be protected by Empire law, and I wouldn’t be able to just cut his head off without justification.

It seemed like a clever move… but would it really work out as he thought?

I don’t think so.

…Well, no need to tell him that.

His next destination wouldn’t be the City of Exra-shapel but the underground interrogation room of Pailoon Castle.

“Alright, I can agree to that. But…”

“But…?”

“Just as you don’t trust me, I don’t trust you either. I can’t just leave you like this. So, for the time being, I’ll have to restrain you to prevent you from causing trouble. You understand, right?”

“Ah, yes. Handcuffs, shackles, whatever you need.”

Macaoros readily nodded to the request to restrain him, as if he’d accept anything.

“Good, I’m glad you agree.”

With his consent, there was no need to hesitate.

I grabbed Macaoros’s outstretched arm to cuff him—

*Crack!*

“Ugh?!”

—and dislocated three joints.

Handcuffs and shackles? Who’s he trying to fool? A guy like him could break those with a bit of effort.

I never intended to restrain him with such flimsy tools.

“Ugh… What are you doing…?”

“Stop whining, big guy. Spread your legs. Gotta break your lower body too.”

I kicked the groaning Macaoros, who was clutching his broken arm, and grabbed his flailing legs, carefully crushing the bones.

“Ugh…! If you think torture will make me talk, you’re sorely mistaken—”

“This isn’t torture.”

Calling breaking a few bones torture is an overreaction.

This is just a restraint procedure. Remember, the safest way to restrain a dangerous individual isn’t shackles but shattering their limbs.

Cutting them off would be the safest, but in this cold place without recovery potions, that would just be a slow execution.

“Asha! You listening? Bring me the oil pouch!”

“Yes! Here it is, Ha-shal-leur!”

Asha, warming herself by the campfire in the temporary barracks, grabbed a leather pouch full of oil and ran over.

“Where are we burning him? The face, right?”

Burn? Who said anything about burning? This isn’t torture, just a proper restraint procedure.

“No, I need to block his mouth to restrain him properly.”

“Wait! What are you doing…!”

“Yeah, yeah, keep your mouth open like that.”

I grabbed Macaoros’s upper and lower jaw, forcing them open, and signaled Asha to shove the oil pouch into his mouth.

“Ah, so he can’t breathe fire?”

Understanding my intent, Asha tied the pouch’s opening tightly and shoved it deep into Macaoros’s throat.

“Ugh! Ugh!”

Macaoros’s eyes widened as the fist-sized leather pouch was shoved deep into his throat, but his limbs, already shattered, couldn’t move.

Even if he tried to bite Asha’s hand, I had his jaws firmly gripped.

“Stay still. It’s just something stuffed in your throat. If you breathe fire, your insides will cook.”

Even if he could breathe fire, he wasn’t immune to it. If the oil pouch caught fire, the burning oil would flow down his esophagus and into his stomach, and even a dragonkin wouldn’t survive that.

“Ugh!”

“All done, Ha-shal-leur!”

“Good job. Now stuff as much cloth as you can in there, and we’ll weld his mouth shut.”

It’s like putting a steel muzzle on him to prevent him from spitting out the oil pouch.

Even if a dragonkin could break metal shackles with limb strength, they couldn’t break a steel muzzle with jaw strength. These half-reptile guys have strong biting force but laughably weak jaw-opening strength.

“Yes!”

For some reason, Asha looked thrilled as she brought over a pile of broken machine parts and started hammering away, using the heat from the flames I’d lit to melt the metal.

Ten minutes later, Macaoros, completely incapacitated, rolled his eyes and fainted.

Shattered limbs, a severed and charred tail, torn wing membranes, and a metal muzzle covering his entire mouth. Physically, he was perfectly restrained.

Of course, there was still the possibility of magical resistance…

“Leave that to me.”

Ophelia confidently stepped forward, carving an intricate pattern into his chest with a heated awl and embedding a mana stone she’d somehow prepared.

If he tried to gather mana to cast magic, his own mana would explode his heart. An astonishing restraint magic.

Carving the magical formula was a delicate process, so it could only be used on a perfectly subdued opponent.

Thanks to that, he became a perfectly disabled dragonkin, unable to move, breathe fire, or gather mana, left in a corner of the barracks. A grotesque and pitiful sight, devoid of any elegance.

You should’ve just trusted me completely.