"Hello, Mordred."
Kay's voice greeted me as I stepped into the interrogation room, the scent of blood thick in the air. He was wiping his hands clean with a towel, his expression eerily calm.
He tossed the bloodied towel onto a table cluttered with pristine torture instruments, untouched.
"Looks like you didn't need these," I remarked, nodding toward the table.
"He fessed up after a few blows to the nose," Kay replied, gesturing to the bound Deathwalker slumped in the chair.
Even without the use of tools, Jeko Hess was a wreck—face swollen, blood leaking from his mouth and nose.
Well, being on the receiving end of a Knight of the Round's anger was probably worse than any blade or instrument of malice.
I raised an eyebrow. "A few blows? Sure."
Kay shrugged, his knuckles unmarred despite the violence they unleashed. "I got carried away. I was supposed to leave him intact for you."
His voice hardened. "But Iris is my daughter. He's lucky to still be in one piece."
"Well, I'm not complaining." I leaned over Jeko, examining his broken, bloodied face. "Honestly, I think he looks better this way."
Kay chuckled darkly as I turned back to him. "What did he spill?"
"Like we thought. Her brothers." Kay's voice was steady, but his eyes flickered with restrained fury.
"Ambitious, aren't they?" Artemis commented, strolling over to the table and picking up a scalpel. She twirled it absentmindedly between her fingers.
"Collect a hundred of the deadliest wraiths, juice them up with a resistance to Purity flames and stakes, stuff them in a trapper, and blow the thing up in the bastard child's face," she summarized, planting the scalpel into Jeko's thigh without warning.
His eyes snapped open, and his mouth stretched wide in a silent scream.
"Oh, shut up," Artemis muttered, knocking him unconscious with a quick smack to the head.
Both Kay and I stared at her. "Quite the summary," Kay remarked, sounding almost impressed.
"She'll make a good captain," he added, glancing at me.
I shrugged, smirking. "Why do you think Iris and I keep her around?"
Artemis frowned slightly. "I assumed it was because you two either want me to provoke each other or play mediator during your arguments."
"That too," I admitted. But my gaze drifted back to Jeko Hess, and the familiar cold fury stirred in my chest, pulling my thoughts away from the banter.
"So, what happens now?" I asked Kay, struggling to keep my voice level.
Kay sighed as he straightened his jacket. "I'll be drafting a report to His Majesty. House Karsus's attempt endangered the Shield, the Deathwalkers, and ultimately, the world's defense against the daemons."
He paused, glancing at Jeko before adding, "And they endangered the High Queen and two High Princes. Such crimes demand execution."
I blinked, caught off guard. "Two High Princes?"
Kay sighed again. "Mordred, you were sentenced to the Shield, not stripped of your title. You're still a High Prince."
"Ah. Well, that's… reassuring." I allowed the sarcasm to slip through, though my mind had already moved back to Jeko.
"Execution, huh?" My voice was quiet, but the rage beneath it was unmistakable.
Kay nodded solemnly. "Immediate execution is warranted."
I met his gaze. "Permission to carry that out, Commander?"
He hesitated, then gave a single nod. "Permission granted."
Kay turned toward the door, pausing briefly. "Make it painful," he said before disappearing down the corridor.
As the door clicked shut, Artemis raised an eyebrow. "I guess we didn't hear that from him?"
"Indeed," I muttered, my eyes fixed on Jeko. "He never said a word."
I took a step closer, feeling morbidly excited. "Let's wake him up, shall we?"
Artemis's eyes glowed faintly as she reached for another scalpel, imbuing it with the swirling winds of Aeris.
"This should do it," she said with a chilling smile, stabbing the scalpel into Jeko's thigh, just inches from his groin.
Jeko woke with a strangled scream, his body jerking in pain—only for me to clamp a hand over his mouth, silencing him.
"Wakey wakey, Mr. Hess," I greeted, my voice dripping with false sweetness. His wild, panicked eyes met mine, full of fear.
"Iris asked me to take care of you," I told him, a casual shrug accompanying the statement. "And I can't say no to my love."
I leaned in closer, my smile fading as I spoke quietly. "The Commander asked for your execution, too. So, I'll be seeing that through."
Blood appendages unfurled behind me, their crystallized tips gleaming dangerously in the dim light.
"But here's the problem. I'm angry. And that means your death won't be quick, or pretty."
Artemis's Yoyo snapped taut in her hand, the black thread hissing as she pulled it back.
I released Jeko's mouth, letting my smile return.
"There. Now you can scream."
*******
"You are quite the monster."
Artemis remarked as we walked toward Althea, wiping the remaining blood off her face.
"Gee. I wonder what gave it away?" I replied, letting the blood on my hands drip onto the corridor floor. I didn't bother wiping my hands clean.
Artemis gave me an impressed look. "You gave him the very same injuries that were inflicted on the Captain."
"It was an experiment," I said with a shrug. "I wanted to see if he'd survive those injuries or if Iris was just special."
"Well. One could survive having half your face ripped off by an angry High Prince but a gaping hole ripped through one's torso? I doubt that is ideal for living," she pointed out.
"I think the shock from the face tearing is what killed him," I mused.
"Since when did you become a doctor?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
I smiled. "Since I realized Gawain won't always be there to heal me."
Artemis smiled back. "You seem to be in a good mood after brutally killing Jeko Hess."
"I'll feel better when Iris jumps out of the room, ready to assault me," I replied.
But as the words left my mouth, they rang hollow. She wouldn't be fine after what she had been through. That much I knew.
My smile faded as we entered Althea and saw Dr. Haytham standing with Guinevere, Gawain, Kay, and the rest of the Lunatics outside Iris's room.
"Mordred!" Guinevere called out, alarm crossing her face as she saw the blood on my arms.
She walked over and gently took my hands in hers, examining them. "What happened?" Her worry was palpable.
I gave her a strained smile. "I'm fine, Mother. The blood isn't mine."
She sighed in relief. "Ah. I was worried that man might've lashed out against you."
Kay snorted from the side. "He's not that weak, Your Majesty. He just likes the feel of blood on his skin."
"That's even more concerning," Guinevere retorted, exasperated. "What has the Shield done to you?"
I chuckled. "I told you, Mother. I'm fine. Dr. Haytham is waiting for me."
"Ah, yes. Casper was just starting to tell us. You arrived just in time," Guinevere said, and we made our way to the small crowd.
"How is she, Doc?" I asked, the weight of dread settling in my stomach.
Dr. Haytham's expression was inscrutable as he glanced at each of us before speaking.
"Her condition has stabilized. We've healed all the major wounds, and now her body is healing itself. The wraiths caused the wounds on her face. Fortunately, they did not leave scars. So, she'll remain a beauty queen."
Kay narrowed his eyes. "So you're saying..."
"Physically, she's fine. But it will take at least a week for her to wake up, knowing the effects of her stigma," Dr. Haytham confirmed.
"You said physically." My voice grew tense. "What did you mean by that?"
Dr. Haytham's eyes sharpened as he turned to me. "You caught on quickly," he remarked, his tone grave.
"She's physically fine. Mentally, I'm afraid things are more complicated."
The sick feeling returned and I swallowed hard. "Define complicated."
"We've detected abnormal brain activity," Dr. Haytham explained. "Particularly in the hippocampus, the area associated with memory."
Kay frowned. "Her memories? How do her memories relate to this?"
A chill crawled down my spine as realization hit.
"Her stigma," I whispered.
Everyone turned to me in confusion, except Dr. Haytham, who nodded.
"Looks like you figured it out," he said, his voice laced with weariness.
"I had my suspicions," I replied, dread growing with each second.
"What are you talking about?" Kay demanded, frustration in his voice, echoing the confusion of the others.
Dr. Haytham sighed and addressed Kay, "You're familiar with the conditions for Coup de Grâce, correct?"
Kay nodded firmly. "Of course. Isn't that why you said she'll wake up in a week?"
"Yes," Dr. Haytham agreed. "But think about it: the ability to kill anything with a single, unerring strike. An extraordinarily powerful ability, but one that comes with a heavy price."
"Isn't she already paying for it by cutting her life short each time she uses her stigma?" Kay argued, his voice rising.
"Trading her life for that of her enemy's—isn't that sufficient?"
Dr. Haytham shook his head. "Unfortunately, no. She has the power to vanquish gods, beings that shouldn't be killable by any mortal."
"Her life is simply not enough. There is one more price, There's another cost, one more valuable than life itself to many."
Guinevere's eyes widened as the truth dawned on her. "Oh, Incarni... That's insidious."
She turned to Kay. "The stigma takes her memories."
Kay looked between her, Dr. Haytham, and me. "What? How can that be? Wouldn't it be obvious if her memories were being taken?"
"That's the insidious part, Commander," I interjected, feeling the weight of the truth in my chest.
"Her stigma erases memories she never wanted to remember in the first place—memories of the abuse at the Karsus Estate, the horrors of the battlefield. Things she never wanted to face."
"She never wanted to confront those memories, so their absence went unnoticed," I elaborated.
Ava's voice broke the tense silence. "But wouldn't that be a blessing? To forget such horrors?"
Dr. Haytham nodded. "You're correct, Miss Baskerville. However, this time it's different."
"Only Purity Flames can truly destroy wraiths," he continued. "And yet, she obliterated every last one in that processing room."
"Her stigma can only be employed once a week. How do you suppose she managed to dispatch them all?"
Kay's eyes widened in realization. "No. You can't be saying..."
"She used her stigma multiple times," Dr. Haytham confirmed, his tone heavy with finality.
A shocked silence fell over us as we processed his words.
"That's not possible," Carlo muttered, shaking his head.
"It is," Kay grumbled, his jaw clenched in fury. "For the right price."
He stomped his foot, releasing a powerful wave of ardor.
"That foolish child!"
Dr. Haytham nodded. "The reason she could only use Coup de Grâce once a week was to preserve her sanity and prevent significant memory loss. It was a limiter."
His gaze darkened as he continued, "But Iris pushed beyond that limit—and paid the ultimate price."
"She removed the limiter and became Death Incarnate."
The moment the words left his lips, a powerful surge of ardor pulsed through the corridor. It was brief, but the intensity was overwhelming, forcing Apollo and Ava to their knees.
Alarmed, we turned toward the room where Iris lay recovering.
"What was that?" Krystal asked, her voice pitched higher with alarm.
Kay and Guinevere exchanged incredulous looks. "No way. At a time like this?" Kay muttered under his breath.
Guinevere nodded, her face grave. "I'm afraid so."
My heart raced as I turned to her. "What is it, Mother? What just happened?"
The High Queen regarded me with uncertainty.
"Mordred… Iris has just ascended to S rank."