Chapter 96: Don’t be shy! There’s plenty of medicine

The air inside the cell was so tense, it felt like it was about to explode.

Under Helos’s “tyranny,” Julius let out a sigh. Like a soldier resigned to his fate, he once again raised his fist.

Thud! Thud, thud!

Heavy blows echoed again and again, the black-robed man beaten so badly he was barely human, his face swollen to the size of a giant pig’s head.

And yet, because of the potion Helos had forced down his throat earlier, he couldn’t even faint, no matter how much he wanted to. He could only cling on, his face covered in blood, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Ugh, aaah…! Damn bastards…”

His breathing and moans mingled together, and he even felt like his very soul was being pummeled out of him.

Just as Julius raised his fist, ready to deliver another blow, Helos suddenly lifted her hand.

“Stop.”

Julius froze for a moment, sweat rolling down his forehead and dripping along his temples.

Panting, his fist remained suspended in mid-air.

The girl slowly turned her head, the eyes behind her mask gleaming as she stared straight at the red-haired young man nearby.

“This guy’s got a hard mouth. Even after all this, he still won’t say a word.”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was icy cold. “Looks like… it’s your turn.”

“Hmph, finally my chance, huh.”

Hearing this, Kyle’s lips curled into a smile, as if he’d been waiting for this moment all along.

He pushed open the cell door and sauntered inside.

“You, what are you going to do…”

The black-robed man stared wide-eyed in weakness, instinctively wanting to shrink back, but his hands and feet were locked in heavy chains. Even shifting an inch was difficult.

Helos stepped back a few paces on her own initiative, making sure she wouldn’t get too close and interfere with Kyle’s performance.

Her tone was calm, but every word sounded like the tolling of a funeral bell for the black-robed man:

“Relax, we’re not reckless people.”

“But Kyle, don’t hold back—just now this guy said himself you weren’t hitting hard enough.”

She paused, her voice taking on a meaningful edge: “You’d better go all out. A little blood won’t hurt.”

“???”

A string of question marks instantly popped up over the black-robed man’s head.

Huh?

When the hell did I ever say something like that?!

She dares lie through her teeth right in front of me?!

“Understood.”

Kyle’s grin grew even more wanton as he played along. “I think I heard that too.”

“You—you’re full of crap—!”

The black-robed man was so anxious he nearly coughed up blood.

Unlike the somewhat green Julius, Kyle, as a seasoned former holy knight and a current Rising Star Adventurer, had no mental burden at all.

He rolled his wrists, the joints cracking crisply, then swung his fist down with a sudden, savage force.

Bang—!

A muffled sound exploded in the cell; this punch was much heavier than Julius’s, even stirring up a dull wind.

“AAAHHHHH!!”

The black-robed man let out a miserable scream, his entire body nearly bouncing off the iron chair.

Kyle let out a cold laugh and grabbed an iron chain from the side, lashing it down onto the prisoner’s shoulder.

Crack!!

Blood splattered instantly, and the black-robed man’s body convulsed violently, his shrieks echoing through the cell.

Julius’s pupils shrank sharply. Instinctively, he turned his head away, unable to bear the sight.

“Isn’t this a bit too much?”

“Eh, don’t worry.”

Helos raised her hand and patted his shoulder lightly. The gesture was casual, but her tone was like comforting a naive newcomer.

“Think about it—those innocent civilians poisoned or even murdered by this group, weren’t they miserable too?”

She paused, her voice dropping a little, “Rather than letting people like this continue to harm others, why not let them taste some retribution?”

Julius blinked, his heart quivering slightly.

That actually… makes sense.

Thinking of it that way, these people really did deserve death.

Could it be, I’m still too soft-hearted?

He subconsciously looked at Helos standing beside him.

Cloaked and masked, her figure was especially cold, as if she had long since grown used to scenes like this.

But why does she seem almost too skilled at this sort of thing?

Though Julius was lost in thought, Kyle was thoroughly enjoying himself, his moves coming one after another.

His fists fell even heavier, and he used both chains and wooden sticks, his methods clearly much crueler than Julius’s.

“Ah—! S-stop…!!”

The black-robed man howled hoarsely, but all he got in reply was another brutal blow.

Even Selina, at this point, couldn’t help but turn her head slightly, her gray lashes quivering.

“You really are rough, you know… Can’t you use something more refined?”

“Ahaha, rough is just my style.”

Kyle flicked his hand, his fiery red hair dancing in the torchlight. “With a hard nut like this, anything less is disrespectful!”

A short while later, the cultist before them was already covered in wounds, his black robe torn and blood dripping down the fabric.

He seemed on the verge of collapse, screaming out in despair:

“Just kill me already! You demons, just give me a quick death—!”

But at that moment, Helos suddenly stepped forward.

“Kill you? No, no, no, that would be such a waste.”

She calmly drew a small bottle from her belt, the liquid inside glowing red, flowing slowly as if it were burning blood.

The black-robed man’s face went deathly pale.

“W-what are you going to do…”

Helos didn’t answer, simply handed the bottle to Kyle, her tone lazy:

“Here, make him drink this one.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow but didn’t ask any questions. He simply grabbed the prisoner’s jaw and forced the potion down his throat.

Gulp—gulp—!

The cultist instinctively tried to resist, but the liquid was still poured in by force.

A few seconds later, his pupils shrank violently, his breath coming in short gasps. His bloody wounds began to heal at a speed visible to the naked eye.

“H-how is this possible…”

The black-robed man lowered his head, staring in a daze at his body, now mostly healed. Utter shock flickered in his eyes.

But before he could recover from his astonishment, Helos waved her hand lightly.

“Look at that recovery ability. No wonder you’re so tough. Continue.”

“My pleasure.”

“W-wait—!!”

His desperate screams reverberated through the cell.

As Kyle’s fists and tools came down again, the black-robed man was plunged once more into a hell of agony.

When he was beaten to a bloody pulp once more, his whole body tottering on the brink of collapse, Helos, like performing a magic trick, pulled out another bottle of bright red life potion from Julius’s belt pouch.

She shook the bottle, her tone light and playful, as if selling some sort of beverage:

“My, after holding out so long, you must be thirsty, right?”

Beneath her mask, the corners of her mouth curved in a wicked grin, “Here! Don’t be shy! There’s plenty of potion for you!”

“No! I don’t want it—glug, glug!”

Before he could even finish shouting his refusal, the potion was forced down his throat again.

“Think of it as our treat, don’t be so reserved.”

Kyle laughed cheerily, patting his shoulder as if they were old friends sharing a meal.

In the next moment, his fist swung again. With the potion’s effects, a new round of torment began anew.