Splash!
A torrent of frigid water cascaded onto the man's visage, jolting him from the depths of unconsciousness. His eyes snapped open, wide with shock and disorientation.
"Huff! Huff!"
The man gasped raggedly, his chest heaving as he fought to draw in air. He strained every muscle, attempting to wriggle free, only to be met with searing pain. His limbs were bound fast to the unforgiving rack, rendering him completely immobile.
The masked figure standing before him placed the now - empty basin gently on the cold, damp floor and casually leaned against the wall, her arms folded across her chest.
She was swathed in a voluminous cloak that concealed her entire form, save for a pair of piercing, emerald - green eyes that bored into him, exuding an air of menace.
The man vividly recalled how his band of cronies had been effortlessly dispatched by her lightning - fast and masterful combat skills.
"Awake, are you? Now, let's have a little chat," she purred, her voice laced with a dangerous undertone.
The man's head swiveled frantically as he scanned the dimly lit surroundings, searching for the source of the voice.
He found himself in a dank, musty basement, its walls oozing with moisture. Following the sound, his gaze landed on a woman seated nonchalantly in a chair.
She was idly filing her nails, seemingly unconcerned with the terrified man before her. The table beside her was littered with an array of gruesome, censorship - defying torture implements.
Through the hazy shadows, he caught a glimpse of a peculiarly designed glove on her hand, adorned with several glistening gemstones. The poor lighting made it impossible for him to count them accurately.
"There's an old adage: 'A wise man yields to the times,'" she intoned, her voice dripping with menace. "With all these... persuasive tools at my disposal, I'm certain we can get you to open up."
A cold sweat broke out across the man's forehead, drenching his clothes. He thrashed wildly against his restraints, his movements desperate but futile.
"I! I! I'll tell you everything!" he blurted out in a panic.
Slap!
The masked woman's hand shot out with lightning speed, delivering a resounding smack across his face.
"Hold your horses. I haven't even asked a question yet. What's the rush?"
Leah twirled a pair of pliers between her fingers, a cruel smile playing on her lips as she regarded the man.
The sharp slap jolted the man fully awake, and in an instant, his fear was replaced by a seething anger.
"Do you have any idea what you're doing?!" he roared. "This is kidnapping! And illegal torture! You'll be thrown in jail for this!"
Leah rose to her feet, her eyes glinting with cold indifference. "So what if I will? When you're rotting in a ditch like a mangy dog, who's going to care who put you there?"
The man renewed his struggles, his face contorted with fury. "Damn you! How dare you do this? What gives you the right?!"
Leah regarded him with a look of utter disdain. "Simple. I have the wealth and power to do as I please."
The man fell silent, momentarily stunned by her audacity.
"Just because you're rich doesn't mean you can get away with everything!" he retorted defiantly.
Leah's lips curled into a sneer. "My brother is Victor, a nobleman and a third - order mage. Think twice before you cross us."
The man's mouth snapped shut, all fight draining from him at the mention of Victor's name.
Leah picked up the pliers and tapped them menacingly on the table. "Since you've had the misfortune to cross the Clevener family, you'd better start talking. Who sent you?"
"The duke! It was the duke who ordered us to do it!" the man blurted out, his words tumbling over each other in his haste.
As if to prove his point, he hastily added, "Our hideout is at [address]. You can go there and see for yourself! The duke paid us a fortune to smash your store today. I'm not lying! You have to believe me!"
The masked figure, her curiosity piqued, leaned in close to Leah and whispered, "He's been saying the same thing all along. Could the duke really be behind this?"
Leah scoffed, her tone dripping with derision. "Please. That's a pitifully clumsy attempt at a frame - up. If you hadn't been so insistent, I might have entertained the idea. But now, you've just made the duke look less suspicious."
The man's eyes widened in surprise, and Leah caught the telltale sign of his momentary confusion.
She burst out laughing, a throaty, mocking laugh that filled the room. "You actually fell for it? I was just baiting you. But judging by your reaction, it's clear the duke isn't involved. A duke wouldn't stoop to such a low - class scheme."
The man opened his mouth to protest, but Leah cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand.
"Enough. Leon, deal with him. And don't forget to harvest his organs. We can sell them for a tidy sum. And his accomplices? Eliminate them all. Not a single one left."
Leah leaned in and patted the man's cheek, her smile as cold as ice. "You should have thought twice before messing with us."
The man's body trembled uncontrollably, his eyes wide with terror.
In a flash, Leah's hand whipped around, and a vial of glowing, azure - blue potion materialized in her palm.
"Even if we sold every organ in your body, you still wouldn't be worth a fraction of the items in my store," she taunted, waving the vial in front of his face. "And this? This thousand - gold - coin potion? In my eyes, it's just as worthless as you are."
With a final, contemptuous sneer, she hurled the vial at the man's face. It shattered on impact, sending shards of glass and a mixture of blue potion and red blood spraying in all directions.
"Madwoman! You're a complete lunatic! Let me go!" the man shrieked, his voice hoarse with fear and pain.
Leah merely laughed, her laughter echoing through the room like the cackle of a demon. "Take care of it quickly, Leon."
"Yes, ma'am," Leon replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
....
A few hours later, Leon slipped quietly through the window of Victor's study. Leah was seated at the desk, engrossed in poring over the accounts.
The room was empty save for the two of them. Leon removed her hood, revealing a shock of short, platinum - blonde hair and a pair of long, pointed ears. Her elven heritage was unmistakable.
"Sister, it's all taken care of," Leon announced, her voice soft but confident.
Leah looked up from the ledger, a faint smile gracing her lips. "Well done. Thank you for your hard work."
"Anytime, Sister Leah," Leon replied, a note of pride in her voice. "I managed to gather quite a bit of money from those thugs. And I raided their hideout. They received a large sum recently, about five thousand gold coins."
Leah took the heavy money - bag and weighed it in her hand before setting it aside. "That's a substantial amount. It seems our friend wasn't lying about the money, at least."
Leon hesitated for a moment before asking, "So, you really don't think the duke was behind it?"
Leah's hand froze in mid - air, and she let out a soft chuckle. "You too? Even if the duke's involvement seems unlikely now, it doesn't mean he's completely in the clear. Someone might be trying to stir up trouble between our family and the duke to their own advantage. Or perhaps the duke simply resents our family's rise, especially with two of the youngest third - order mages in the capital."
Leon furrowed her brow, struggling to understand the complex web of politics and intrigue. "But why did you stop the interrogation? There might have been more he could tell us."
Leah shook her head. "He didn't know who the real mastermind was. Paying with money indicates that he's just a pawn. He latched onto the duke's name because he had nothing better. And think about it: why would the duke's daughter show up in the East District just in time to save our store and then pay a fortune in compensation? Her story doesn't add up."
Leon nodded slowly, still skeptical. "It does seem a bit too convenient. But do you really think she's involved?"
Leah shrugged. "I don't know yet, but I'm not buying her act. I know Victor well enough to know he's not the type to be a great teacher. Erica being his student? There's more to that than meets the eye."
...
Meanwhile, far away in Sancher Town, Vega let out a sudden sneeze.
Victor glanced at the raven, a look of mild surprise on his face. "Since when do ravens catch colds?" he muttered under his breath.
But he had more pressing matters to attend to. They had arrived at a small town at the foot of Mount Vesuvius, and the only accommodation in sight was a humble inn.
The knights, accustomed to roughing it, were content to sleep in the stables or at the post station. But Gwen, as both a woman and their esteemed captain, was urged to take a room at the inn to rest and recover.
Victor, as a mage in need of a quiet place to replenish his magical energy, accompanied her.
They entered the inn, intending to secure two separate rooms. But fate had other plans.
"Are you absolutely certain there's only one room left?" Gwen asked, her voice tinged with desperation.
Victor watched with amusement as Gwen fidgeted nervously. It was a rare display of vulnerability from the usually composed knight.
The innkeeper spread his hands helplessly. "I wouldn't dream of lying to you, Knight. There's only one large - bed room available. But seeing as you two are traveling together, I'm sure sharing a room won't be an issue."
Gwen opened her mouth to protest, but Victor cut her off. "The room will do. We'll take it."
Gwen's eyes widened in disbelief. "Victor, are you sure?" she hissed, her voice low.
Victor merely smiled enigmatically. "Trust me. It'll be fine."