The Devil's Son and His Fated Bride
Chapter 103: That bastard is insane.

Chapter 103: That bastard is insane.

"Wouldn’t it be wiser to wait for His Highness before starting the interrogation?" Arkilla suggested as she was ushered out of her father’s office, at the east wing of the castle. The auditors were still inside, tallying the damages to report back to the Alpha King.

"How’s Rail?" Ren asked, her voice edged with concern. She hadn’t seen him since yesterday.

"I don’t know," Arkilla replied. "I asked Gloria if she’d seen him, but she hadn’t."

She didn’t ask any more questions as they scurried toward the dungeons. She hated that place, but she preferred to keep that goblin there. Her heart was so heavy for all those who lost their dears, those she had met. They all bowed to her and accepted her, but she couldn’t protect them. She felt so useless.

Ren’s gaze shifted to Calisa and the guard beside him, who had just arrived at the dungeon doors.

"We’re ready," the guard announced. With a nod, the sentries flanking the entrance unlocked it, allowing them inside.

Ren’s chest tightened. This would be her first interrogation, and despite the fact that the captive was only a goblin, unease prickled beneath her skin. Still, ever since the attacks had begun, she was certain Luther stood behind them. He’d gathered the worst of the criminals and likely filled their heads with promises, and hope tied to the mines of Thegara. And gold, after all, had a way of seducing every species in this world.

The cell holding the goblin wasn’t far. As they approached, Calisa drew his sword with a sharp metallic whisper.

"It’s chained," the guard warned, stepping aside. "But keep your distance...just in case."

"Understood. Please, open the door," Ren replied.

Arkilla grimaced, her disapproval written clearly across her face. She had opposed this plan from the beginning.

The guard unlatched the door, and they stepped into the shadows. Ren’s breath hitched, she could see through, in such darkness! Again! Despite the pitch-black surroundings, the darkness didn’t blind her. How? How had her Fae senses been awoken so suddenly?

Has Dreamland altered something within her?

As they moved deeper into the cell, Arkilla found a torch resting in its wall sconce and lit it, the flame flickering as she raised her guard.

"Milady, you’re here!" the goblin exclaimed, his voice cracking with emotion. The once-hostile warrior looked almost reverent. She had spared him, and now she returned, not with scorn, but presence. In his world, nobles didn’t acknowledge the lowborn, let alone goblins. The more he dwelled on it, the more his shame coiled around him like a noose.

The goblin was gaunt, skin clinging to bone, eyes sunken and bruised with fatigue. He looked starved, both in body and spirit.

"Are you giving him food?" She asked the guard.

"We are. However, he doesn’t deserve it." He scoffed.

"Where are you from?" Ren questioned the goblin.

"Acre Island," he replied hoarsely. "I used to work in the coal mines there."

Ren’s brow arched in surprise. A miner? Then why was he thrown into battle? That island was famous for the habitation of mermaids and pearls. Ren couldn’t say they were myths. Not after what she had experienced and witnessed. Not after realizing she was a half-human and daughter of a high Fae. She couldn’t convince herself yet.

"A miner turned into a warrior? Do you even believe that yourself?" Arkilla scoffed, a sharp, incredulous laugh breaking from her lips.

"In your place, I wouldn’t," the goblin admitted quietly. "But here I am, chained, beaten, and nearly dead. I was a slave. We didn’t have the luxury of choice. We did as we were told."

Ren tilted her head, stepping closer. "And who gave the orders?"

He gave a helpless shrug. "We never saw him. No one has. He sends envoys...ambassadors you say, or loan sharks. They travel across lands, tracking those with crushing debts or need of coins, they hunt the desperate ones. That’s how they find us. That’s how they own us. But ...Rumor has it... this entire operation is being run by an Alvonian noble."

A chill crawled down Ren’s spine. There was no reason for the goblin to lie, not now, not like this. Back in Zillgaira, she’d heard whispers along the harbor, rumors of smugglers trafficking goblins, forcing them into coal mines or pressing them into pirate crews to hunt whales for their oil. It was horrifying, but this... this made sense.

"Fine. I’ll believe this one," Arkilla muttered, reluctantly conceding. His story wasn’t as far-fetched as it seemed. In fact, His Highness had personally rescued a few of those slaves from pirates anchored at Thegara’s port. That harbor was under the supervision of the Feline clan, and Arkilla’s father had sent her there more than once to review the port’s budget reports.

"They’ve been training goblins, more than ten thousand of us, for the past three years," the goblin continued. "That’s why we can fight. Some of us held onto hope... thought we could learn enough to escape. But that was just a foolish dream. Vampires can smell us from miles away. There’s no hiding from them and it took them minutes to catch up with us and suck our blood... those who escaped, their heads returned as a lesson for others."

Three years ago? And vampires had been overseeing them all this time? That meant Luther had been preparing long before the war even began, expanding his army in the shadows. Something was wrong, did he have followers before escaping the underworld’s dungeons? Serpent clans?! But what about that Noble from Alvonia? But how? When exactly had he escaped? And who had freed him from his father’s dungeons? Gods, this was twisted.

She could feel it now. She was edging closer to uncovering something treacherous, something far bigger than she’d anticipated.

"How many giants do they have?" Calisa asked, his tone sharp and focused.

"Roughly a thousand giants," the goblin answered. "And around twenty vampire giants. There is Lord Giant vampire too. He is berserk, they had to chain him, I heard. The army forged by the Fae vampire is far deadlier than anything the other lords have."

That was it. The exact point Ren had hoped to uncover. Calisa’s question had hit the mark, and she rewarded him with a soft, approving smile, a silent acknowledgment that his directness was extracting what they needed.

"What kind of vampires are they?" Calisa pressed.

"Scary," the goblin shuddered, eyes haunted. "They turn into... devils. Nothing like what they were before. Their skin sheds, their bodies twist and grow into something monstrous, fear itself given flesh, I can say."

Arkilla exchanged a tense glance with Ren. The abomination they’d seen in the dungeon suddenly made sense. Luther’s dark experiments... the Fae vampire turning humans into demons. Maybe that poor individual Siamon captured had been trying to reach the human army before his full transformation and frenzy for blood consumed him.

"Do you know where Luther keeps his army?" Ren added, her voice dropping lower.

The goblin shook his head miserably. "They scattered after training. Yesterday, our commander called us for duty. The North is unforgiving, too cold, too barren. Feeding us was difficult, so they sent the weakest of us on this suicide mission. I don’t know why... maybe to thin the herd."

But Ren already understood the reason. This mission wasn’t random. It had been a distraction, a ploy to keep their eyes elsewhere while Luther made his move to abduct her.

That bastard is insane.

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