Translator: Cinder Translations
...
Duke Dodge and his companions walked silently along the corridor, their faces grave.
"Duke, sir!"
It was Leicester who spoke up.
"I request permission to personally patrol outside the fortress to verify the scout's report. Based on his description, regular soldiers wouldn't be able to handle that situation."
Duke Dodge pondered for a moment before replying, "Let's hear reports from other scouts first."
Throughout the following day, the Duke gathered reports from several batches of scouts who had gone out for reconnaissance. However, he found nothing unusual. Some had encountered rebel scouts but none had experienced the situation described by the wounded scout.
It seemed... that the incident encountered by the injured scout was an isolated case? Or was he lying?
After careful consideration, he agreed to Viscount Leicester's request, allowing him to lead his elite scout cavalry on patrol.
Prior to this, there was an unspoken agreement between them and the rebels not to encroach into each other's alert zones. However, the incident from last night clearly violated this agreement, suggesting that they needed to make some adjustments to the current situation.
...
Not far south of Thorns Fortress, there was a small town that now bore little resemblance to its former self.
The outskirts of the town were surrounded by a tall, thick stone wall adorned with various defensive structures. Outside the wall, a deep trench had been dug, filled with densely packed wooden spikes. Anyone unfortunate enough to fall into the trench would have no chance of survival.
Fully armed patrol guards could be seen walking back and forth atop the stone wall, vigilant and wary of the north.
This place had been transformed by the rebels into a small fortress.
Originally, their encampment was further north and closer to Thorns Fortress. This faction of rebels had no intention of attacking Thorns Fortress, as Duke Giles had tasked them solely with monitoring the Kingdom's army stationed there and preventing them from roaming freely.
However, one night, a small force suddenly emerged from the fortress, quietly took out the visible and hidden sentries in a corner of the camp, and then proceeded to set fires everywhere, causing considerable chaos.
Fortunately, their numbers were small, and they were quickly repelled by the soldiers' spontaneous counterattack. But the fires and ensuing panic kept the entire camp in turmoil throughout the night.
When news of this embarrassing incident reached "Greedy Wolf," Duke Giles was furious and immediately appointed a new commander to take charge of this force.
Taking command of this rebel force—referred to by themselves as the "Southern Army"—was a fierce warrior named Samal, who was one of Giles's trusted lieutenants.
When Samal received his appointment, many of his colleagues expressed regret for him, as at that time the Southern Army was busy dealing with local lords who were unwilling to obey Duke Giles. Taking on this "guard duty" meant fewer opportunities for personal military achievements.
However, Samal was secretly delighted. He had long foreseen that Duke Giles would sooner or later lead an army northward. Even if the Duke did not march north, the royal army would eventually move south. By monitoring Thorns Fortress, he was likely to be at the forefront when the time came to confront real enemies, not these insignificant southern rebels. Naturally, opportunities for military achievements would then arise continuously.
After taking over, Samal relocated the entire army to the current small town, as the original encampment was too close to the fortress and morale was low after the surprise attack. He also recruited a large number of local laborers to fortify the town into a semi-permanent, rudimentary fortress.
Since the current mission was defensive rather than offensive, more effort needed to be put into defense.
At this moment, deep within a dungeon in this fortress, a brutal and inhumane interrogation was underway...
"To talk or not?"
Accompanied by intimidating shouts, the loud crack of whips echoed repeatedly within the dungeon.
A prisoner was suspended, bound and soaked in saltwater, while a whip lashed fiercely across his body.
If the severely wounded scout from Thorns Fortress were here, he would surely recognize this person as one of his comrades. Several individuals had been captured by the Southern Army that night.
Clearly, the Southern Army was trying to extract information from these "tongues" through relentless torture, and it seemed that fabricated false information was not going to fool them...
After being captured, enduring the enemy's harsh interrogation through sheer willpower is a plot that generally exists only in novels and dramas. It's not to say it doesn't happen in reality, but such occurrences are extremely rare.
Even those prepared to sacrifice their lives and with the resolve to do so cannot withstand the various interrogation methods designed to make one beg for survival yet wish for death—a plethora of torturous methods exist.
Regardless of whether someone has undergone resistance to interrogation training, as long as they are flesh and blood, they fear pain and suffering.
Apart from physical torment, there are infamous psychological torture methods that truly crush one's willpower. No matter how rigorously trained a spy or soldier might be, they cannot endure.
Therefore, once captured, most will eventually divulge information.
To cope with interrogation after being captured, prisoners often provide false or partially true information to make the enemy believe it's genuine. The real parts of the information often either don't affect the overall situation or are outdated. At such times, whether leaks occur or not becomes unimportant.
The captured scout opened his eyes weakly and hoarsely said, "I've confessed everything I know. I really don't know anything else... Ah!"
The loud crack of the whip resounded once again, indicating disbelief from the interrogator.
As a scout highly likely to be captured, he naturally prepared a lot of information to handle the current situation. Thus, during the interrogation, he pretended to "not give in to death" and gradually recounted the prepared information.
Then, all he could do was pray for the interrogator's mercy. Generally, once the interrogator feels they've extracted all possible value from the captive, they either grant a swift end or send them to the rear as laborers. The probability of encountering sadists who enjoy torturing people is low.
Of course, a qualified interrogator never believes all the information confessed by captives is true. Instead, they meticulously sift through a plethora of half-truths to find useful pieces—a different kind of skill altogether.
In the current situation, the interrogator in front clearly didn't believe he had finished speaking.
A towering figure, visually intimidating, the interrogator gripped the prisoner's chin, gently lifting his head to meet his gaze.
"I'll say it again! Tell me what you haven't confessed yet!"
"Sir... I... really... don't know anything else..."
The prisoner lamented inwardly: This is the fifth confirmation already; shouldn't it be ending soon?
In this situation of weakened fortress defenses, he dared not reveal it. If the rebels found out, they might immediately organize an attack. Not to mention the military brothers with whom he shared meals daily; his own family lived in Duke Dodge's territory.
In this era, bandits are as dense as combs, especially given the longstanding enmity between the Dodge and Giles families. The fate of the commoners under Dodge's rule is predictable, and Giles's army is notoriously ineffective. Although crows are generally black, there are always one or two crows blacker than the rest.
The interrogator turned his skeptical gaze to the other side, where a cloaked figure sat, their face hidden within the hood.
"Hmph!"
The cloaked man chuckled ominously.
"He's lying!"
"He definitely has something left to confess!"
Chilling words that pierced through the prisoner originated from the cloaked man's mouth. How could that guy discern his lies? He had previously offered seamless intelligence, and as a low-level scout, limited knowledge was expected.
Sensing the prisoner's confusion, the cloaked man stood up and slowly approached him.
"You must be curious why I'm so certain, time and again, that you're lying?"
Lifting his hood slightly, the cloaked man allowed the prisoner to see his face.
"I can see the color of your soul..."
(End of the Chapter)