Knights and Magic Wand
Chapter 58 - 58 49 For the Living

58: Chapter 49: For the Living?

For the Dead?

58: Chapter 49: For the Living?

For the Dead?

From a distance, Leon ran towards them, carrying Azeryan on his back.

Lokhak scratched his head at the door, not understanding why.

But once Leon explained the purpose of his visit, Lokhak’s eyes immediately reddened.

“Do you really remember the emblem on that person’s body!?”

At that time, Lokhak had been too busy entangling with the mercenaries and was eventually knocked unconscious, naturally unable to remember many details about the man who had bought his sister.

Thinking that he might learn about the whereabouts of his only relative, Lokhak’s breathing quickened.

He hurriedly turned around, opened the door, and led his companions inside.

Inside the house, a stout man, bound tightly and stripped down to his underpants, lay on the ground with a rag stuffed in his mouth.

Hearing the door open and footsteps, the captive opened his eyes.

Seeing the young leader enter wearing the Armor of his Sealing Lord, Knight Mamor’s heart sank into despair.

His Lord to whom he was loyal had died, and he himself probably wouldn’t live much longer…

Leon motioned for Lokhak to bring a chair and carefully helped Azeryan to sit down.

Kantadar noble knights generally also spoke the Felu language, but to avoid unnecessary trouble, Leon felt it was more efficient and accurate to have Azeryan conduct the interrogation directly.

Lokhak walked over and yanked the knight captive to his feet.

Leon took a piece of charcoal borrowed from the kitchen and, from memory, drew the emblem from the buyer’s robe on the ground.

Perhaps he truly had a talent for drawing on the ground; he sketched the outline of a bird spreading its wings so vividly, it was as life-like as he remembered.

Once his companions finished sketching the emblem in the confused eyes of the captive knight, Azeryan sat on the chair and began the interrogation.

(Uria Language) “…Look at the pattern on the ground, this family emblem with a blue base and a white bird, do you know which area and family of Kantadar it belongs to?”

Lokhak pulled the rag out of the captive’s mouth.

Mamor moved his stiff jaw and then looked down at the emblem on the ground before looking up at Azeryan, “Kid, even if I knew, why should I tell you?”

“So you don’t deny that you know?” Azeryan bluntly continued the questioning.

Upon hearing this, Mamor simply shut his mouth, showing a defiant attitude.

Though he couldn’t understand the conversation, Lokhak became enraged seeing the man’s demeanor.

Thud!

With a fierce punch wearing his Iron Gloves, he smashed the captive’s face, causing bruising and blood to ooze from the corner of his mouth.

However, Mamor’s expression remained unchanged after receiving the heavy blow; he didn’t even grunt but instead began to smile with his bloody mouth.

(Felu Language) “You hit like you have no strength, and still, you try to interrogate…

Boy, just bring all the tortures you can think of, but don’t be so rough.

Get a knife instead.”

Mamor looked disdainfully at the youngsters, provoking contemptuously, “Chopping fingers, amputating limbs, castration, gouging eyes, cutting off the nose…

do whatever pleases you, see if I utter a sound.”

Now that the speech was in Felu language, Lokhak understood the knight captive’s taunts.

“You think I wouldn’t dare?” Lokhak said angrily.

“Suit yourself,” Mamor replied nonchalantly, his eyebrows raised.

A Knight of Valor who had crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood was utterly fearless of the brutal corporeal punishments that terrified ordinary people.

(Uria Language) “Are you seeking death willingly?” Azeryan frowned.

(Uria Language) “Of course not,” Mamor grunted.

“But kid, you’re too amateur.

Do you think I’m some soft shrimp?

If you want me to answer questions, you must provide conditions that I willingly accept.”

Azeryan asked, “What conditions do you want?”

Mamor stated plainly, “Naturally, release me.”

Azeryan expressionless, “So you are still afraid of death?”

“No, I’m not afraid of death but naturally, it’s best if I can avoid it,” Mamor replied nonchalantly.

Azeryan paused for a moment, then continued, “Alright, tell me which noble this emblem belongs to, and I promise to release you.”

“Ha!

You think I’m a three-year-old child?

Just because you say you’ll release me, I should believe you?

That lot yesterday was itching to tear me apart; how can you guarantee you won’t go back on your word once I answer the question?” Mamor laughed, completely dismissing the young man’s flimsy promises.

Azeryan frowned, “If you know we can’t let you go, why propose such a condition?”

“It doesn’t matter.

It’s you who are seeking answers from me, not me begging for my life from you.

How to get me to talk is your problem.”

Azeryan thought for a moment, then tried bluffing, “Don’t you want us to give you an easy and quick death?

Or let you have a comfortable time before you die?

You know, a family emblem is not such a big secret; I just need to ask more Kantadar people or spend some money consulting an experienced Herald Officer to get the answer, albeit with some effort.”

“Whatever,” Mamor remained unaffected, “Since it makes no difference whether I speak or not!

Either way, it’s a dead end for me, why should I say anything?”

Now at a loss, Azeryan wondered how to deal with someone impervious to both soft and hard approaches.

Should they resort to torture or try a memory recovery spell?

He pulled at his companions, signaling them to help him up and step outside to discuss.

The three temporarily left the room, closed the door and Azeryan began translating the knight captive’s attitude.

Lokhak was so enraged that he could burst into flames.

“Fine, I’ll go to the blacksmith’s and find some pliers to crush his privates and stuff them into his foul mouth to see if he really has such a tough backbone!”

The young man, eager to save his sister, was flushed with anger as he gritted his teeth ready to look for the pliers.

“Ah, those set for punishment aren’t rushing, so what’s your hurry?”

Leon reached out to hold back the impulsive Lokhak, understanding that his emotions were tumultuous due to his concern for a family member, but he didn’t want to just cut off the quickest source of information.

Held back by his companion, Lokhak had no choice but to temporarily suppress his urgency and, taking a deep breath, asked, “Then Leon, do you have any idea how to pry open his mouth?”

Leon shockingly suggested, “I actually think it wouldn’t hurt to let him go.”

Lokhak widened his eyes, “What?”

“Of course, we wouldn’t be the ones to release him,” Leon continued.

“After all, although this guy is annoying, we don’t have a direct blood debt with him.

Right now, the ones who truly want his life are the local villagers who survived, right?

What’s most important now is to figure out quickly where your sister was sold off to.”

Azeryan asked, “But can you convince those villagers to willingly spare his life?”

“No need for us, outsiders, to convince them.

Let the knight convince the villagers himself, surely he’s willing to pay a ransom for his life,” explained Leon.

“Oh—so, you’re saying to let him negotiate the ransom with the villagers himself?”

Now Azeryan understood.

Reality is, after all, very cruel.

Especially for these impoverished villagers.

Faced with the choice between ‘avenging their neighbors’ and ‘receiving substantial compensation,’ if the knight captive could provide a ransom satisfying the survivors, the villagers would decide between the two.

Moreover, according to what Lokhak heard from Olivia, the captive knight was incapacitated by the girl at the beginning of the invasion and had been bedridden with a leg injury, not participating in the subsequent slaughter.

The current survivors didn’t even know if they could find anyone directly involved in blood vengeance against him.

Leon said, “Go and talk to Olivia about it later, and let the villagers decide his fate.

The three of us outsiders won’t interfere.

That way, this guy will also believe our promise because, after all, if we change our minds and kill him later, the villagers won’t get the agreed ransom.”

After formulating their approach, the trio re-entered the cell.

When Azeryan informed the Kantadar knights of the conditions, the captive’s attitude finally shifted.

Just as Azeryan had said, even if they couldn’t get the answer from his mouth, they could learn from other Kantadar nobles by recognizing the family emblem.

It was merely a matter of knowing now versus taking much longer to find out later.

The three of them were in a hurry, after all, the longer it took to find out where Lokhak’s sister was, the dimmer her hope of being alive became.

But Mamor didn’t know the urgency of the three men, nor the relationships involved; the knight captive thought the emblem’s family had a feud with the three young men only.

If he could trade such information for his life, he was naturally willing to speak.

“Quick, bring someone to discuss the ransom, and after it’s settled, I’ll tell you which family this emblem belongs to,” Mamor promptly agreed.

Leaving the cell, Leon hurriedly went to find Olivia, who, aside from the old blacksmith, was now in charge in Selva Village.

When he saw the golden-haired girl again, she was organizing cleanup efforts in the village, still chaotic from destruction.

After Leon told her about the captive’s desire to exchange his life for ransom, Olivia hesitated and did not make an immediate commitment.

She needed to gather the surviving villagers to seek everyone’s consensus.

Soon, barring the bedridden old blacksmith, all the surviving women and children were assembled in front of the cell.

When Lokhak pushed the knight captive out from the building, Leon truly witnessed the villagers’ fiery agitation at the loss of their kin and friends.

However, as intense as their rage was, the silence from the survivors became more ironic when the knight stated his price.

One thousand gold coins.

Not in Kantadar Gold Coin but in Orland’s gold crowns.

In the whole of Seval, comprising only sixty-three households, even if it was divided among each household, present or not, each could receive what a common able-bodied peasant could save in twenty to thirty years of scrimping.

Anger melts faster before survival and wealth, just like snow at the onset of spring…

Azeryan and Lokhak watched the emotionally tumultuous scene unfold before them, feeling an indescribably complex mixture of emotions.

It was like a cruel social experiment.

Ironically, at the end, those who truly couldn’t let go of their grudges were only the youngest children.

Simply because they had not yet experienced the pain of struggling for survival in this world.

“Even if you gave me a mountain of gold, I wouldn’t forgive the enemy who harmed my family,” Lokhak muttered gloomily in his heart.

Even though this might hasten discovering his sister’s whereabouts, he felt an inexplicable suffocation.

Should he blame these villagers for forsaking vengeance for money?

The young man was not an ethereal being immune to worldly desires; he knew that most of the people were merely succumbing to survival.

…

In the prison cell…

The “white bird pattern is from the Felcon Family of the Western Port, but you’ve drawn a partition; therefore, this emblem should belong to a subordinate knight loyal to the Felcon Family,” Mamor responded.