Chapter 45
I did not know the exact name of the skill.
He only ever said that it invaded the mind, so Aquila simply referred to it as “Invasion.”
At its core, the skill required eye contact, and while it was active, both Ianpel and the target were left completely defenseless.
For precise information, it was best to know a specific date, time, or keyword beforehand, but that was not strictly necessary.
All one had to do was rummage through the other person’s mind and drag out their memories.
However, because it directly tampered with the brain, there was a dangerous side effect: the target’s brain could melt.
The skill could be used about three times a month.
With strain, it might be possible to use it a few more times, but using it consecutively caused overload.
Moreover, since it was practically the same as directly connecting Ianpel’s mind with the target’s, using it for long periods placed a tremendous burden on him as well.
“The aftertaste of using the skill is not pleasant. The sensation of having your brain connected to someone else is… how should I put it. In any case, you end up reading the emotions that person was feeling at the time as well.”
“Do you see scenes, or do words surface?”
“Sometimes scenes, sometimes words. If the target has strong mental fortitude, it can feel like wandering through dense fog.”
“Then how do you extract the information?”
“How else? Are you really asking because you do not know? You keep digging through their head until you can read it.”
…That was how he had explained it.
In some past cycle, Aquila had once heard a direct explanation of the skill from Ianpel himself.
It had been during a cycle in which Ianpel never betrayed him, and even regarded him as a friend.
Of course, by now, it was simply one of the many times that had been erased from his memory.
***
In the end, Aquila obtained Ianpel’s permission.
Once they reached Portplum, Ianpel’s schedule would make it impossible for Aquila to forcibly come face-to-face with Gilesha anyway, so he thought they might as well talk together while they had the chance.
If Aquila insisted on accompanying him, it would be awkward for Ianpel to refuse outright.
After all, he would then have to explain the “Invasion” skill, and he would rather keep the very existence of such an ability hidden.
Of course, Ianpel must have already known that Aquila had noticed something.
“This bastard is not dead, is he?”
Creeeak, thud!
The door opened with a heavy sound.
Since they had departed early in the morning, the sun had not yet set when they arrived at Celteng.
Sunlight poured down, broadly enveloping the carriage where the criminal was kept.
Warmth touched Gilesha’s hunched shoulders, head, and hands as he lay there.
The man, who had been sprawled like a corpse, twitched his fingers.
Shen, who had been hovering near the faintly moving Gilesha, turned to Aquila.
“Uh, I think he is alive, at least? I am not sure he has the strength to talk, though.”
“Bring water.”
“Yes, Young Master.”
As the shadow receded and the piercing light struck him, Gilesha’s fingers twitched again.
“Here is the water!”
When Shen returned and handed over the canteen, Aquila opened the lid and, without a moment’s hesitation, splashed the water across Gilesha’s face.
Splash!
Struck by the sudden dousing, Gilesha jerked violently.
The writhing man slowly lifted his eyelids.
Cloudy yellow eyes.
When red hair was reflected in those eyes, Gilesha furrowed his brow.
“Looks like you no longer have the energy to thrash about.”
Even though it was obvious who stood before him, Gilesha did not struggle like before.
There was still hostility in his dull gaze.
But mixed among many emotions, curiosity remained strong.
‘If curiosity outweighs hostility, that is fortunate. In this state, he can be used.’
Aquila poured the last remaining bit of water from the canteen over Gilesha, as though shaking it empty.
Hit by the cold water, Gilesha writhed as if thirst were returning.
“I am going to remove the gag now. You will not be able to bite your tongue and die anyway, so give up on that idea. The priests are standing by behind you.”
Aquila gestured toward the figures in pure white robes behind him.
Three priests and one holy knight stood there.
The robes, gleaming white in the sunlight, and the silver armor stabbed painfully into Gilesha’s eyes, which had not seen light in a long time.
Among them, however, the most striking was the man with water-colored hair.
His hair was neatly cut at the jawline, and he was fairly tall.
Pale lavender eyes examined each of Gilesha’s movements as though probing them.
He spoke.
“Hm… he looks more ordinary than I expected. His condition is a mess, though. You said you fractured his heart?”
“Yes. Even if the gag and restraints are removed, he will not be able to exert any strength.”
Heinen answered Ianpel’s question curtly.
Gilesha had once been someone who looked upon a high-ranking Sword Expert.
Now, that was nothing more than the past.
With a fractured heart, he was a warped being who could neither emit aura nor use mana.
No ordinary person could endure a fractured heart and still release power.
“It must feel like having your soul taken away. How pitiful….”
Ianpel said that, but he did not truly seem to pity Gilesha.
And Gilesha could tell who he was, not only from his appearance, but from the way he spoke, even without being told.
The one who had begun nesting at the Grand Temple of Portplum, and who was currently said to be closest to the saint within the Temple of the Sun.
Saint Ianpel.
“Anyway, it is nice to finally meet you. I have been looking forward to the day I would see you.”
Ianpel smiled pleasantly.
That casual greeting scraped irritatingly at Gilesha’s insides.
He muttered as if trying to say something, but no sound came out, blocked by the gag.
When Aquila reached to remove the gag, someone stopped his hand.
“Oh dear. We cannot have our little young master doing something like this. I will handle it.”
It was Cahena.
No matter how many priests were present, there was always the risk that Gilesha might bite his tongue the moment the gag was removed.
Cahena knew firsthand just how vicious he was, having crossed blades with him herself.
Although Cahena was the one who had fractured Gilesha’s heart, she removed the gag from his mouth with the utmost care.
“Hoo….”
As it turned out, her concern was unnecessary, and nothing happened.
The moment the gag was removed, Gilesha drew in a deep breath.
Then, perhaps because of the water he had been splashed with, he licked the droplets still clinging to his face with the tip of his tongue.
Parched, cracked lips.
A tongue so dry it had not tasted water in a long time.
They were nothing more than droplets, but Gilesha savored the sweet water touching his lips after so long.
The first thing he said was this.
“…You are not going to kill me?”
The voice that emerged after being trapped in darkness for so long was hoarse and broken.
Even the inside of his throat was completely dry, to the point that one had to strain to hear him clearly.
Aquila waited calmly for Gilesha to finish speaking, then crossed his arms.
“Unfortunately, I have grown curious about something.”
“Oh, haah… cough. So you are the one saying the thing I want to say the most….”
Gilesha continued speaking with difficulty, his voice sounding as though it might break at any moment.
Through his disheveled hair, Aquila saw a face that looked even younger than he remembered.
Sunken eyes and parched cheeks.
Of course, Aquila felt no pity as he looked at him.
There was no need to think as far as the future—Gilesha was someone who had taken countless lives as a member of the Guild of Darkness.
Listing everything he had done, and everything he would go on to do, would probably require ten separate “show more” expansions.
“If you answer properly, I can grant you death, as you wish.”
Aquila’s indifferent eyes swept over Gilesha’s face.
In truth, he did not expect Gilesha to break his silence and answer.
Rather than trying to pry open his mouth, it would be faster to rush to Belmaburn and investigate personally.
He was only here because circumstances made that impossible.
“Oh. No matter what, you cannot kill him. That would go against the promise we made among ourselves, would it not?”
Ianpel interjected into their conversation.
After all, Gilesha was useful to him in many ways.
The man, who had been staring fixedly at Aquila through his faded navy hair, suddenly turned his gaze toward Ianpel and let out a low, crackling laugh.
The laughter, splitting at the edges, was closer to mad cackling.
“Kuh…! No matter what you are curious about, hheh, I have no intention of answering… cough!”
Aquila looked at Gilesha, then shot Ianpel a sidelong glance.
“Yes, yes. It is my turn now, so please step aside. Do not interfere. And Shen, bring more water.”
“I already splashed him once. Do we really need more? That is awfully generous.”
“It is hard to hear what he is saying.”
“I will bring it right away, Young Master!”
Shen hurried off to refill the canteen.
Aquila waited a moment, took the canteen when it was handed back, and crouched in front of Gilesha.
“Enough. Regardless of them, there is only one thing I am curious about anyway.”
“It is the same with you! No matter what you ask, I will not answer—puh!”
Gush.
Ignoring him entirely, Aquila pressed the canteen to Gilesha’s lips and poured.
Since he did not control the flow, most of it spilled down the sides of his mouth, but his bone-dry mouth accepted it.
The thirst he had forgotten flared back to life.
Even as he instinctively drank the water, it flooded his face, making him cough repeatedly.
Once the canteen was completely empty, Aquila tossed it aside roughly.
“I will not ask twice, so listen carefully.”
Gilesha, his face now soaked like a drowned rat, barely managed to open his eyes.
Turning his back on those behind him, Aquila looked down calmly at the criminal crouched on the ground.
Only Gilesha could see his expression.
“That thing that turns people into monsters. What are you actually doing with it?”
“Hah, cough! How naïve! Even if you ask like that, why would I tell you…!”
Aquila lowered his gaze even further, staring intently at Gilesha.
Then, in a very quiet voice, without any warning, he whispered so softly that only Gilesha could hear.
“As far as I know, the revelation did not instruct you to feed the mud at this point.”
Gilesha sucked in a sharp breath.
Revelation.
At that word, Gilesha’s eyes slowly widened.
But Aquila did not stop there.
Instead of speaking aloud, he clearly formed the word with his lips.
‘Fenein.’
Just a single word.
But to Gilesha, it was far more than that.
“H-how… what do you know…!”
Fenein.
The next destination written in the Night’s revelation, where corrupted fanatics were meant to go.
A small port town on the southwestern coast.
Aquila tapped his lips lightly with his index finger, signaling silence, then curled one corner of his mouth into a smile that only Gilesha could see.
“I asked you what it was.”