“Whoosh—!”
A heavy sphere of water suddenly burst in midair, drenching the man in the black robe sitting on the chair with an icy downpour.
The cell was already cold and damp, and now the chill deepened sharply.
“Ugh—cough, cough, cough!”
The black-robed man shuddered violently. His soaked cloak clung tightly to his body, leaving him as bedraggled as a Water Dog dragged up onto shore.
He lifted his head in a daze, the last remnants of drunkenness still lingering in his gaze.
But as his eyes slowly focused on the stone walls, iron bars, torchlight, and that cold, sharp figure standing before him, his expression changed dramatically.
‘This is… where?’
His throat tightened, and his voice came out hoarse.
***
The next moment, his memories surged back like a tide—he must’ve had too much to drink last night.
Damn it.
His heart sank heavily.
I’m such a damn fool.
How could I make such a rookie mistake?
His fingertips trembled ever so slightly, but he quickly forced down his panic, managing to muster a cold sneer.
“Hmph… So I got caught by you dogs of the Church by accident, huh?”
In the center of the cell, Werner stood with his arms crossed.
The light outlined his stern features, his brown pupils sharp as a Hawk’s.
With just a single glance, the oppressive tension in the air seemed to spike.
“Good. You’re awake.”
Werner’s voice was low and hard, with no hint of emotion.
The black-robed man licked his lips, forcing himself to act nonchalant.
He faked a drunken burp and slumped to one side, as if he might doze off again at any moment.
“Ugh, wh-why am I suddenly here? I remember… I was drinking just fine at the tavern…”
“Playing dumb?”
Werner raised an eyebrow.
He stepped forward, his boot heels striking the stone floor with a crisp sound—each step pounding like a hammer on the black-robed man’s heart.
“I suggest you start talking honestly!”
“Hah? Wh-what are you saying? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The black-robed man curled his lips in an utterly insincere smile. “I’m just a—hic!—drunk. Did you catch the wrong guy or something?”
Werner let out a cold snort. The next instant, his fist slammed down on the armrest of the iron chair.
“Bang!”
The jolt nearly tipped the chair over. The black-robed man recoiled, almost tumbling off in fright.
“Don’t play games with me.”
Werner stared down at him coldly. “I have plenty of ways to make you talk.”
A tense, suffocating pressure filled the air.
Julius stood at the side, his gaze never leaving the prisoner, ready to stop any sudden moves.
Kyle had his arms folded as he leaned against the wall, his usual lazy smile in place, but the coldness in his eyes gave him away.
Selina stood silently in the shadows, her gray pupils fixed on the black-robed man, a look of disgust flickering in her eyes.
Yet—
“Heh… hehehe.”
To everyone’s surprise, the black-robed man started laughing.
Though he was drenched and pathetic, his laughter carried a trace of madness.
“You want to interrogate me? Squeeze intel out of my mouth? Keep dreaming!”
Werner narrowed his eyes, his presence intensifying as if he’d strike at any moment.
But the black-robed man straightened his back, a look of resolve appearing in his eyes.
“Even if you beat me to death, I won’t give you a word!”
As his words fell, the atmosphere in the cell froze.
Julius furrowed his brow, inwardly surprised.
This guy doesn’t look like much, but he’s got that kind of backbone?
Werner’s expression turned icy cold.
“Very well.”
His voice was like frozen iron. In the next instant, he grabbed the black-robed man’s jaw, forcing him to look up and meet his gaze.
“You can be stubborn, but I have ways to make you regret it.”
“Go ahead! Hahaha—kill me if you dare!”
Madness flickered in the black-robed man’s eyes, as if he’d already put life and death behind him.
But inside, he sneered coldly.
Kill me?
They wouldn’t dare.
He knew very well the value of the secrets he carried. As long as he kept his mouth shut, there’s no way they’d let him die here.
That was his bargaining chip.
If he gritted his teeth and held out, he could even turn the tables and torment these self-righteous nobles and the dogs of the Church.
Just as the tension reached a breaking point, a low voice suddenly echoed through the cell.
“Wait.”
Everyone paused.
A figure wrapped in a black cloak stepped slowly from the shadows of the cell.
Thick fabric dragged over the stone floor. The hood was pulled low, and the dark Metal Mask caught the firelight, completely hiding her face.
The Potion Pouch at her waist swayed with each step, and a few strands of dyed-black hair fell to the edge of the mask, making the black-robed man freeze.
Who the heck is this?
How is she even more mysterious than us?
A jolt of nervousness shot through him.
He had just been bracing himself, but this sudden appearance rattled him to his core.
He couldn’t see a trace of her expression beneath the mask, which only unsettled him further.
No, stay calm.
He clenched his teeth, forcing himself to remember.
Whoever she was, since she hadn’t started torturing him outright, he must still be valuable.
As long as he didn’t show fear, there was still a chance.
“Enough.”
The girl spoke in a low voice—not loud, yet impossible to ignore.
Werner’s fingers paused. He frowned slightly.
“What is it?”
Helos’s gaze landed coldly on the black-robed man, then flicked to Werner, her voice laced with open contempt:
“Cut the pointless threats. If scaring him worked, he’d have confessed long ago.”
The air in the cell went rigid.
Julius blinked, instinctively whispering, “W-wait… Weren’t we just supposed to watch?”
But the girl paid him no mind.
She just waved her hand, shooing Kyle, Selina, and Werner back, as if telling them to keep their distance.
Then she crooked a finger at Julius, motioning him to come closer.
She took a step forward. The shadow of her cloak loomed over the prisoner as she said coldly, “So you’ve got a tough mouth, huh?”
The black-robed man froze, then grinned viciously.
“That’s right! I’d rather die than help a bunch of hypocrites like you!”
She didn’t retort immediately.
The firelight glinted coldly off her Metal Mask.
“Then let’s try a different approach.”
For some reason, as the mysterious cloaked figure drew near, the black-robed man’s breath quickened involuntarily.
It felt as if an invisible hand was pressing on his chest. Every breath grew heavier, harder.
His mind started to swim, his limbs turning limp—as if all his strength was draining away.
The girl quietly observed his reaction. Beneath her mask, a wicked smile curled her lips—but no one could see it, of course.
Tsk tsk, just stand aside and watch the show?
What a joke.
This was a perfect opportunity for a live experiment. There’s no way she’d let it slip by.
What a schemer.