With one of the torture devices he found nearby, he cut the flesh on his forearm to show the man he could regenerate.
"You'll survive anything with such a power, Mikel, I can even unsure your limbs growing back. You just have to tell me everything you know about black magic. I must say something too horrible for you to imagine will happen to you if the camp was to learn about this feature of mine. Trust me, I have my share of creativity."
His words were light, but they meant it was the last night they would spend together. The spanish spy was to die by his hands or escape.
The spy asked. "Why do you need to know about it? Are you not the result of a ritual? Weren't you summoned into this world as a demon?"
"Again, you're not in a position to ask me anything." Oswald replied, using his mind-drawers to sort out the data.
First, the holy army. Second, the black magic. Even though the two seemed related by their creators only, he kept them separate.
