"W-What's this? A new patient?"
"Yes, two of them. And make sure you open their mouths."
"Open their mouths?"
"Oh, I mean… treat them."
The mage who had captured the Dooms infiltrators turned to his companion, instructing him to 'treat' them.
"You stay here, I'll speak to them first."
"Understood."
The mage stepped into the dimly lit chamber. Two figures sat bound to chairs, their wrists raw from the ropes that held them. As he entered, their eyes locked onto him, sharp and defiant.
"Well, hello again. How's the room? Peaceful, isn't it?"
"What do you want?" One of the prisoners spat, voice dripping with venom.
"Oh, not me. You're asking the wrong person." The mage smiled, slow and deliberate. "I'd never stain my hands with filth like you. That's simply beneath me."
"Enough talk! Untie me and fight me to the death!"
"You?" The mage let out a chuckle, shaking his head. "You think you're worth my time? Worth the effort of Raymond Pagan? No, you're not even an inconvenience."
The prisoners glared at him, jaws clenched. Raymond leaned in slightly, voice lowering.
"The King has changed his mind about you. At first, we thought you'd be… entertainment, but it seems you're more useful to us as informants."
A beat of silence, a flicker of doubt in their eyes.
Raymond straightened and turned toward the door.
"Your turn, Kabi."
"Can I leave the mask off this time?" Kabi asked, voice almost hopeful. "So they know who's treating them?"
"No, You wear it. Always."
"But—"
"No 'but.' The patients are infected, and we can't have you catching their disease."
Kabi sighed but pulled out the worn, tattered mask from his coat.
"Kabi?"
"Let him sleep."
His voice deepened as the mask settled over his face. Raymond smirked.
"The King wants information on Dooms. Get it out of them, but don't kill them. Not yet."
"Heh. Killing too quickly is no fun. It's far more satisfying when they beg for death."
*Creak*
Kabi stepped inside, dragging a worn leather bag across the stone floor.
"A kid?" one of the prisoners sneered. "The mighty kingdom sends a child to do their dirty work? Pathetic."
Kabi ignored them, pulling out his instruments with careful precision.
"Do you know how to control your emotions?"
"Hah?"
"I once knew someone who never showed anger. Never showed fear. I often wondered if he even had them."
"What the hell are you talking about, you bastard?!"
Kabi lit the forge in the corner of the room, picking up a steel plate and setting it against the rising flames. His voice was steady.
"I, on the other hand, only know pain, fury, and despair."
As the metal glowed red-hot, he turned and took a seat before the prisoners.
"So, I'll ask again. Can you control your emotions?"
*Spit.*
One of them aimed at Kabi's face. The mask hid his reaction.
"Oh…"
Kabi wiped the spittle from his sleeve. Calm. Unbothered.
"New question, then. How many of your people infiltrated the kingdom?"
"Idiot. You think we'd answer?"
Kabi reached into his bag, pulling out a pair of pliers.
"What are you going to do with that?"
*Crack.*
"AAAAGHHH!"
"One fingernail, in exchange for that spit."
The game had begun. Kabi leaned in closer, voice low, cold.
"Are you the only two?"
The other prisoner bared his teeth. "Why do you even care, huh? Defending a kingdom that crushes the weak? That only protects the powerful? Kids lose their parents just for carrying harvesting tools!"
*Whrrrrr.*
Kabi slipped on a ring. A small, spiraled drill protruded from it, the tip gleaming. When he channeled Shu into the device, it whirred to life, spinning violently.
*Crunch.*
A scream tore through the room as the drill punctured the man's knuckle joint.
"Every useless answer earns you pain."
A pause. Then, the second prisoner's eyes darkened.
"For one of the Kingdom's Seven Guardians, is this really what you're proud of?"
Kabi stiffened. A flicker of something beneath the mask.
"…How do you know that?"
"Heh. Not just me. All of us know. We know everything about you. Including your real name, Sapes."
Kabi's hand clenched around the drill.
"You—"
---
*Gasp.*
I woke up as the morning light cut through the inn's window. My entire body ached from yesterday's journey.
'Do I still have any potions?'
Something felt different today. The kind of feeling I had when I first arrived in this world.
"Loneliness."
'Haah… I don't even have space to complain anymore.'
With a tired sigh, I packed my things and left the room.
'Monster blood stinks.'
I stopped, glancing down at my arms. Scars littered my skin—souvenirs from the battle with Redan.
A world where blades still determined wars. Where guns and missiles did not exist. I had hoped, at least, that this world's wars would only be against monsters. Not each other.
'Wait. Isn't magic just as dangerous as firearms?'
I shook my head. No point in thinking too deeply.
"Whatever, time to wash up and clean my clothes."