The Demon Lord's Bride (BL)
Chapter 543: Patience is a virtue, even if the fuel is revenge

Chapter 543: Patience is a virtue, even if the fuel is revenge

My eyes opened wide at someone I never thought would see in the Lord Castle--not to mention the basement leading to prisoner cells.

But it had been so long since I saw her and I missed her very much, so I was just happy to see her in this dreary place.

"Angwi!" I let go of Natha’s hand and ran to hug her. Despite her grim expression, she still received me as usual, embracing me with all of her arms.

After the initial joy subsided, I pulled back slightly to take a look at her and addressed my shock. "Angwi! Why are you here? You should have seen me when you were in the Castle!" I held her hands happily; I had never seen her in the Castle before, so this came as a nice surprise. Perhaps that was why I subconsciously ignored her expression and just continued to gush out. "Why didn’t you come to the Lord’s Quarter? Why are you here instead?"

Yeah--why was she here? Even if she was in the Castle, why was she in the basement?

The questions belatedly filled my mind, and the joy of seeing her faltered. Once again, I peeked at her face which was shaded by the ceiling’s shadow. Angwi was usually expressionless, but that was why it was easier to see her emotions.

Like this time, when I saw the straight line of her lips and her hardened gaze.

"What? What’s wrong?" I stepped back without letting her hands go.

Of course, she did not answer me with words, but...she also did not reply with anything at all--not even the movement of her lips.

So I turned toward her employer. "Nat?"

Natha, however, looked calm--if not a bit solemn. He stroked the back of my head while looking at Angwi. "Perhaps it’s time."

Silently, Angwi nodded.

* * *

There was a girl once, who had nothing but her wide smile and her beautiful voice.

Or so did her family tell her, who promptly sent her to a sly-looking succubus who always smiled when the light shone upon her, and scowled when she was in the dark. But the succubus also told the girl that she had a great smile and a pretty voice, so the girl could not dislike the succubus. She thought it was a compliment.

Oh, the girl thought it was a compliment alright, until the succubus attached a price to that smile and voice.

A figure in a luxurious cloak and arrogant mask bought that price. A brand was burned into the girl’s skin and she was dragged to a shimmering yet cold place.

Every day, the girl had to smile and dance and sing for the masks; the arrogant one, the sly one, the scowling one...she sang and danced with a wide smile so many times until her throat hurt and her cheeks numb. But the moment her voice cracked and her steps faltered, a whip would crack in the air the brand would burn. There would be no food, no drink, and no light.

The girl, driven by fear, tried her best to keep singing and smiling. Nothing but the best was allowed. She would falter, be punished, perform, and falter again and again. Her cheeks stretched wide with a single rustling sound, even if her heart screaming and crying. The only things she had, eventually, became the cause of her misery.

If that was the case, she thought it would be best if that smile and voice were to vanish.

And so, she stopped smiling, stopped dancing, and stopped talking altogether. No matter how severe the beating or how long they starver her, no matter how many times they played with her in pitch darkness, she did not give them her smile and her voice.

She thought if she became useless, they would have thrown her out. But even if they killed her, she thought it would be miles better than what she had to endure.

Oh, how naive the girl was.

Through her diminishing consciousness, she recalled the immense pain she was in as she was being thrown--not into the street, but into a cauldron filled with weird liquid. More things, demons and beasts alike, were also thrown into that huge cauldron. She was in pain like no others for days, months, years--she had no idea. When she opened her eyes, she was different.

Her body was different; her arms were multiplied. She could no longer entertain the masks with her smile and voice, so they made her amuse them with a new appearance. A freak show, as they called it. As they called her. They made her catch dozens of hurled knives, laughing at her rolling in the mud.

She thought of dying, of letting the knives pierce her, but they would pour a potion and prevent her from dying. The pain--oh, the pain was unbearable. The only way for her to endure was through the painkiller they gave her if she performed well.

Again, she tried her best.

She did not smile, she did not speak, she did not want to leave. Could someone die from pain alone? She thought of that every night, while her limbs were tied and her mouth was gagged to prevent suicide.

The girl had no idea how many days, weeks, or even years had passed as she grew number and number. She caught the dozens of knives and arrows being thrown at her, thinking of throwing them back at those masks--especially the arrogant one who brought her to this hellhole.

And when she fantasized about putting a hole in the head of the perverse mask who often played with her body, a hole truly appeared in the middle of the mask. And then a mask got severed in two, and another got shattered to pieces. Demons with weapons filled the hall and hunted the partying masks. She was so amazed that she did not even have a leeway to feel disappointed that the arrogant mask managed to run away.

That day, she took the hand of a nightmare who offered her freedom and revenge. She still did not smile, nor did she speak, but she thought she would be able to find that arrogant mask one day, and decided to stay alive.

Thus, Natha concluded the story of Angwi’s life, inside a small room near the first basement floor’s stairs.

I clenched my free hand and held Natha’s hand with the other one. It wasn’t long since the irritation caused by that nightmare left my body, but a new one had already settled in.

"So...are you here to watch that Spectre?" I asked after suppressing my anger. The arrogant mask she found after decades.

Angwi nodded, which meant she had been watching the chamber where Natha put the Spectre in these past few days while I received treatment. All alone, facing her deepest darkness and worst trauma. She probably wanted to make sure the Spectre stayed inside my contraption; making sure the sealing formation in the chamber stayed intact and no one tried to foolishly break it--after all, we have yet to discover all the spies.

I took a deep breath and turned to Natha. "That rule earlier, the one mentioned by Hagai; is it applied here too?"

Natha smiled. "Of course."

"By that rule, does the right granted to me?"

"In this instance, yes," Natha nodded. "The crime committed on the Castle’s ground, which was the basis for their arrest, was done against you; you stayed as the biggest casualty."

"I see," I rubbed the back of Natha’s hand with my thumb. "I think it will be too exhausting for me to take care of more perpetrators."

Natha smiled and pressed my moving thumb. "In that case, you should appoint someone as your proxy, Young Master."

We looked at Angwi then, who was staring at me blankly for half a minute to digest our conversation. When she finally got it, she blinked her eyes slowly, as if to make sure it wasn’t a dream. Her eyes started to flicker before shifting toward Natha and widening.

My husband leaned back against his chair and spoke slowly, as if to make sure his every word could be heard clearly, while stroking my hand.

"Someone like that nightmare and the poison users are the type who might break down during torture and tell us things--even if just for a swifter death," Natha said. "But the same thing could not be done to a Spectre."

"Why?"

"Because torture is their specialty," Natha said. "They are creatures who lust for power and authority. Torturing others to force their submission was the Spectri’s favorite method."

Ugh--they were despicable through and through. But it also explained how they could rule the realm of lust for so long, or their fear of someone with an alpha seed like Natha existed in their territory.

"That’s too bad," I pursed my lips in annoyance. "I bet that Spectre knows every person behind this whole thing, right? The ones who are still hidden?"

"Mm,"

"Ngh--can’t we use brainwashing or mind reading for that nightmare?"

"He’s a nightmare; his mind is protected against mind-bending magic."

I clicked my tongue and Natha chuckled while patting my head. "I did not tell you all of this just to say there’s nothing we can do."

"...oh?"

My ears perked up and I straightened my back to look at him keenly. "The crucial part in interrogation is always to make the target speak no matter what," Natha started. "It doesn’t matter if it’s nonsense or even gibberish. Sooner or later, something will slip, even without the target noticing."

"So...you’re saying that we’ll need to make them speak anything?"

"Yes," Natha smiled. "Strong emotions like anger or pride are usually very effective in making them talk without filters."

"Oh? Then...are you going to face the Spectre himself?"

"No, sweetheart," Natha chuckled, and I tilted my head curiously. If it was something that could evoke strong emotions, shouldn’t it be Natha, whom the Spectre hatred? "If it’s me, that Spectre would just curse nonstop."

"Then?"

Natha shifted his gaze to the demon in front of us, who had been listening silently with anxiety and expectation hidden in her eyes. Right--we agreed to appoint Angwi as our proxy for the punishment.

"How do you think that Spectre would react when someone who used to be their slave, now became their warden?" Natha curled his eyes slightly. "That someone they used to order and kick around, whose life depended on their whim, now has control over their life and death?"

Ah, I could see Angwi’s pressed lips tremble.

I took a sharp breath and felt the corner of my lips twitch. "They must be feeling so pissed and humiliated...right?"

"Well, even if they ended up spilling nothing, don’t you think it worth it just to make them know what Angwi felt all those times she was in captive?"

I nodded strongly while looking at Angwi, who lowered her head to hide her expression. I had no idea if she wanted to laugh or scream, but she had the right to whatever she was feeling right now. In the first place, it was that Spectre who caused Angwi to hide her voice, her emotions, and her everything from the world.

I reached out and grabbed her hand tight. "Angwi, make sure they feel everything, okay?" I stared at her shaking eyes. "Everything."

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