Chương 150: B3 - Chapter 21: Interrogation

"What's your name?" Zeke asked the chained man. He and David were currently in the holding cell of the von Hohenheim estate, questioning the prisoner who had regained consciousness moments ago. The man was tied to a metal chair. His hands and feet were completely bound. Usually, something like this would not be an impediment to a Flesh Mage, but the situation was different right now.

"Supra root?" the man asked. Despite the state he was in, his demeanor seemed relaxed, as if he wasn't worried about his current situation at all.

"I wish you would have let me shift first, this is rather uncomfortable." Zeke scoffed.

"I don't give a fuck how comfortable you are." This wasn't quite true as he had also wished to give the man the chance to shift. When he had passed out, the man had been between forms. This left him in a grotesque state. His body was weirdly proportioned and he looked more like a lump of flesh than an actual human. Even so, giving the prisoner a chance to use Magic was not an option. There was no telling what he would do.

If the man found that his situation was hopeless, he would easily be able to kill himself with his Magic. That was why they had fed him the mana suppressant right away. Supra root was an interesting plant. When brewed, the juice of the root would turn into a poison. Surprisingly, it had absolutely no effect on regular humans, but it managed to prevent a Mage from gathering ambient Mana. The way it worked was by isolating the core. It was one of the few Manaphobe materials known.

However, this only worked up to the Grand Mage level. At the Arch Mage stage, one's entire body served as a core, making it impossible for the poison to function.

"What's your name?" Zeke repeated his question. The prisoner casually glanced around. He was behaving as if he was out on a stroll on a sunny summer day. This did not surprise Zeke; the man was obviously a trained spy. He had never expected the man to cave this easily.

"Fine," Zeke said.

"If you don't want to tell me, then I'll just call you Martin." The man turned his misshapen head toward Zeke, clearly intrigued to find out what he was trying to achieve.

"Well, Martin," Zeke continued, "would you like to tell us who sent you?" The man merely rolled his eyes, his momentary interest already gone. He didn't speak or give any other indication that he would be cooperative at all.

"You have been with us since we left Magusburg," Zeke stated.

"That means one of the great families sent you." There was no reaction.

"…But you were also in contact with the Goldfinger company. That leads me to believe that one of the Great families of the empire stands behind them as well." Still no reaction.

"So, someone in the empire has gone out of their way to continue to make trouble for us. Well, the most likely suspect is always the Feuerkranz family; they hate me the most, after all."

"But," Zeke continued," I don't think this is them. This just doesn't fit. There is too much restraint, too much finesse in this plan — too many layers. Do you know what I mean?" The man remained quiet, but his full attention was now on Zeke again. He seemed dumbfounded by this strange interrogation that was happening. So far, he hadn't said a single thing, and yet it appeared as if Zeke didn't even try to get him to talk. It was almost as if he was only here as a guest.

"The same goes for the Steiner family," Zeke said.

"I simply can't imagine those straight guys coming up with such a convoluted plan. You know?" Of course, there was no response, but Zeke wasn't discouraged at all from sharing his theories.

"This leaves us with the Windtänzer and the Wellenrufer family. They are both capable of something like this, I'm sure. So it has to be one of those two, right?" The man's gaze hardened, but he remained silent.

"Ohh?" Zeke exclaimed.

"Is that an objection? Do you want to know why I excluded the Geistreich family? Well, Martin, let me tell you why I excluded them. It's rather simple — if the Emperor had wanted to stop us, there would have been no need for all this trickery. He could have just had us all captured. It's not that I think he is above such disgusting means, he simply doesn't need to bother with them. You know?" A fire blazed in the prisoner's eyes, but he had it under control the next moment.

With a derisive smirk on his lips, he leaned back in his chair. Not only did he not answer, but he also wouldn't even give Zeke the satisfaction of any verbal engagement. Zeke continued, "Last chance. Who was it? Wellenrufer or Windtänzer?" The man remained silent, returning Zeke's encouraging gaze with a mocking one of his own. For a moment, they both remained silent. Despite the man's reticence, Zeke still had a smile on his face.

However, after several beats had passed without an answer, his face gradually shifted. Zeke's amiable expression turned to one of stone.

"Have it your way," he said to the prisoner, before addressing David.

"What options do we have?"

"I fear there's not much we can do, young lord," the butler answered with a sigh.

"What do you mean? Is there no way to get a prisoner to talk?"

"What do you suggest I do?"

"I don't know, beat him up or something?" David frowned.

"You want me to torture a prisoner?" Zeke stood and faced his guard, a frown forming on his own face.

"I have no fucking clue what to do with a prisoner, David. How about you get rid of that judgmental tone and give me some useful advice instead? I don't need you undermining my authority in front of that piece of shit." Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators! A chuckle could be heard from behind Zeke. Without even looking, he swept his arm backward, a sanguine cord slapping the prisoner across the face.

The impact was so violent that even the bolted-down chair creaked. However, to the body of a Grand Mage, the blow hadn't been much. After spitting out a bit of blood, the man continued to silently cackle. Meanwhile, David had enough time to mull over Zeke's words.

"Apologies, young lord. I sometimes forget that you are only 15."

"I'm turning 16 soon," Zeke cut in jokingly to lighten the mood.

"Indeed," David responded with a slight smile.

"But you often conduct yourself like a much older man, leading me to forget that you don't yet have the benefit of experience." Zeke nodded, accepting the apology. David cleared his throat. When he spoke next, his entire demeanor had changed. He had taken on the persona of a lecturer. This was exactly what Maximilian used to do and a small smile emerged on Zeke's face when he saw how much David clearly admired the old man.

"There is a reason why we don't torture prisoners," David began.

"Aside from the moral implications of such an act, there is a practical reason as well. Simply said — it is useless. Every spy worth his salt is under such a tight seal that he would not be able to confess even the slightest bit of information. Even if he wanted to." The prisoner's cackling got louder.

"What now, little boy? Are you gonna go cry to your mama?" Zeke ignored the taunts. There was nothing to be gained by letting the man get under his skin. But in the next moment, a black tendril smacked the man across the face, leaving a couple of his teeth strewn across the floor.

"Watch your mouth, scum," David said into the silence.

"just because I won't torture you for sport doesn't mean that you'll get to run your mouth. Is that understood?" The man didn't respond, but his cackling and comments both stopped. This seemed to be good enough for David, as he returned his attention to Zeke.

"So, there is nothing that can be done?" the boy asked.

"Well, I didn't say that," David admitted slowly.

"Violence will get us nowhere, that much is certain. But there might be other ways..."

"What ways?" Zeke asked cautiously.

"… Mind Magic," David spat. He clearly wasn't thrilled by the fact that he had even brought this up. Zeke, equally, wasn't entirely convinced by this solution. He had no idea how to forcefully extract someone's memories. This seemed to be something the Geistreichs would have knowledge of, but Zeke had never even wanted to get involved in this aspect of Mind Magic. He had read that trying to circumvent a Sealing Ritual would often kill the subject. Then again, death awaited the man either way.

There was no way Zeke could let him go. After weighing up the pros and cons, Zeke finally decided to give it a try. He wasn't at all confident about his chances. If he could find a way to read someone's memories without doing any harm to them, then that would be an incredibly valuable skill. But to develop such a skill, he would need to practice, and who other than a man who was already sentenced to death would make for a better training dummy?

Zeke would have been more hesitant to go down this road if the procedure would actually hurt. He wouldn't be comfortable doing this if it was a cruel process. Despite what the spy had done and who he was, at the end of the day, he was still human. Zeke believed that all humans should be treated with a certain amount of respect, even as prisoners. Chances were that the man would not feel anything at all. As a True Mage, it would be incredibly hard to even affect a Grand Mage. Still, there was hope.

Mind Magic was unique in that regard. It was the only school of Magic in which the boundaries of the stages could be bypassed with skill. Zeke nodded at David, indicating that he would give it a try. He picked up a chair and sat a couple of steps in front of the man. In his first attempt, Zeke gathered as much Mana as he could. Like a battering ram, he tried to break into the man's mind with brute force. However, the only effect this seemed to have was a slight smile spreading on the man's misshapen face.

"That tickled a bit." The prisoner clearly wasn't at all worried about Zeke's attempts to break into his mind. Most likely, he was aware of the fact that even if the boy actually managed to do so, the Sealing Ritual would simply kill him. By now, he had probably made peace with the fact that he would not leave this room alive. And of all ways to go, an instant, painless death wasn't so bad. Zeke grimaced. When he had thrown the full force of his Mind at the man, he had felt it.

It had been like throwing an egg against a wall. Even in a million years, he would never break through. Unwillingly, his respect for the Geistreich family rose by the tiniest fraction. He couldn't even fathom how a family that used such a weak and fragile form of Magic had ever managed to rise to the top. Unbidden, a memory surfaced in his mind. It was the memory of when he had first visited Sophia's mansion. Mind Magic was supposed to be subtle, she had said.

A mind can only defend itself against an attack it can perceive. Hadn't she also taught him that a proper mindset was key? To unbalance an opponent and claim the high ground mentally? Immediately, Zeke turned the frown on his face into a radiant smile.

"Wow, I'm really not good at this," he said in a leisurely tone.

"It looks like we are going to spend a lot of time together in the future. Who knows how long it'll take me to learn this — days, weeks, months… let's just hope it won't take years, shall we? I apologize for the inconvenience in advance." After he had finished the fake apology, Zeke leaned back in his chair, completely at ease. He tried to convince the prisoner of a new power dynamic. So far, the man had been an important prisoner who had valuable information.

Now, Zeke tried to make him believe that he would merely serve as a long-term guinea pig instead. He had to pretend to no longer be interested in anything of value the man could provide aside from his existence as a training dummy. Minutes passed in silence. As the man's posture slightly tensed over time, Zeke began to find it a lot easier to see the cracks in the walls of his Mind. His fake smile turned genuine as Zeke began his attempts to exploit those slight cracks.

"You're bluffing," the man suddenly said.

"Supra root is not cheap, and I know you can't afford to keep me sedated for that long."

"Pssh," Zeke shushed the man.

"A training dummy is not supposed to speak." For the next hour, Zeke tried to sink his hooks into the man's Mind. However, even with his much-improved technique, his attempts remained utterly fruitless. David had long since departed, leaving only Zeke and the spy in the room. Eventually, the boy got up, stretching his rigid body with a yawn.

"Damn, I really get stiff from sitting too long, you know?" he said with a smirk and a glance at the bound form of the prisoner.

"Anyway, I guess I see you tomorrow, Martin… or whenever else I find the time. See you later!" The moment he had left the cell, the smile disappeared from Zeke's face.

"How did it go?" a voice asked from the side. Without even checking Zeke knew that it was David. He had only left on Zeke's mental insistence in the first place, to make the charade more believable.

"Not great," Zeke admitted.

"As it turns out, this mind-invading stuff isn't exactly my strong suit."

"Should we just kill him and be done with it?" David asked. Zeke shook his head.

"No, it's still a worthwhile chance to get some practice in. If I can come up with a way to do this, it would be invaluable in the future." David simply nodded. He didn't even ask how Zeke would come up with something like that. Instead, he brought up a different topic.

"He wasn't wrong though, young lord. We really won't be able to afford more of the root. The stockpile we brought from the empire will last us a while, but we won't be able to get any more until we make some money." Zeke nodded. He had also realized that the man had been right.

"Then I guess I'll just have to make the most of the time I have."