Chapter 27
{ Interrogation! }
Titan Village.
“Greetings, my lord,” Yora arrived and bowed.
“Use your skill,” Ian did not waste time.
Yora took out paper and pen and wrote: the diary… the catastrophe and the Falling of Petals.
“Catastrophe,” was the same answer.
“Could it be that they are one and the same?” Ian wondered.
“I don’t know, my lord… but… there is still some time left.”
Ian nodded and looked toward the orc tied to the pillar.
“Did you get anything out of him?”
“Not much… he refuses to submit… what do you think, my lord—should we torture him?”
Ian shook his head and moved toward him.
The orc was hung against a trunk in the training yard, watched by Chris with hawk-like eyes.
“You’ll die soon,” the orc sneered.
“Don’t you believe me?! Look at your miserable forces… not a single one at the second level… only four at the first level…
hahahahahaha! You’re truly livestock… the chief won’t even bother forming any interests with you in hopes of keeping you alive… he’ll devour you and play with your women.”
The girls in the army were angered, but they did not respond.
“You know!!… How much I love torturing prisoners… but the lord hasn’t given the order, otherwise… I would have torn you apart,” Tory said coldly.
“I honestly don’t know how you took down that woman’s bandit hideout… even our leader thought about her a lot… but it doesn’t matter… humans have many tricks, but before pure power, you’re trash… and believe me, I’ll kill you all and torture you for what you did to me… I’m unlike you, and our lord is unlike yours… torture!!! How I love it,” the orc laughed.
“What do you think about seeing it from me,” Ian arrived, “and seeing whether I’m like you and your lord in that regard.”
His arrival drew a majestic aura and a kingly presence.
The purple aura granted him authority… power… grandeur… majesty… forcing others to bow.
What’s wrong?! Why am I trembling at the sight of him?? The orc frowned.
Inside Ian, something was being built… something he himself had not yet realized or even known existed.
Ian stopped before the orc.
“I’ll ask, and you’ll answer… for every answer I don’t like, a strike from my general’s sword,” Ian said.
“Hah… as if I’d submit,” the orc sneered.
“Wrong answer,” Ian said.
Whoosh.
Chris’s sword moved and cut into the orc’s flesh.
“Aaaaaaaaaaah!”
The orc screamed.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“First question,” Ian said, ignoring the screams. “What is your lord’s level?”
“I don’t know,” the orc replied fiercely.
“Wrong answer.”
Whoosh.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Chris’s sword came down again, cutting into his flesh.
“Second question… how many others are at the second level?”
“I don’t know!”
Whoosh.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
“ Kill me… kill me if you dare… the location—this village’s location is known… my lord will come to crush this land if I don’t return today… you’ll die… you’ll all die like dogs!”
“Wrong answer,” Ian said indifferently.
“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”
Chris’s strikes were heavy and vicious… even a strong orc couldn’t endure them.
Chris had already reached step two of level one.
The others were still at step zero.
They hadn’t obtained the training skill yet.
As for Ian, he too was at step zero of level one.
“How many troops does your village have?” Ian asked.
“No—” Before he could finish, he saw Chris’s sword moving toward him… this time toward his neck. It seemed Chris had lost his patience.
“Man to man… you and me,” the orc shouted quickly. “If I win, I leave, and if I lose, I’ll tell you what you want!”
Chris stopped the sword and looked at Ian.
“Why did you stop?” Ian looked at Chris in confusion.
“My apologies,” Chris said, then turned back to the orc.
“Kill me… a warrior dies on the battlefield!” the orc shouted when he saw that provocation wasn’t working.
“Aaaaaaaaaaah!”
How foolish this orc was… Ian held the advantage—why would he give any of it away?
Chris did not stop again until Ian told him to.
“Let’s start over,” Ian said. “What is your lord’s level?”
His expression was cold… terrifying… unwavering.
The orc understood something important—the person before him would not rest until he got what he wanted. He wouldn’t mind torturing him far worse than this a million times over… perhaps even tearing his tendons, skinning him alive, and drinking his blood.
In the end, all that mattered was that the orc stayed alive… his condition didn’t matter. He wasn’t even a villager, after all.
Fear took hold of the orc, thoughts racing through his mind.
The purple aura played a major role in this.
“I’ll tell you… I’ll tell you!”
“Speak,” Ian waved his hand.
“Our lord is at step three of level two… and yes, we have one more at level two… the rest are all level one… the number is 117. There is… there is a pack of ferocious black wolves… 203 of them… and their leader is also at level two,” the orc spoke in a rush.
“Good. Lock him in the pit again,” Ian ordered as he turned away.
“Wait… wait!” the orc shouted.
Ian stopped and looked at him. “What is it?”
“I’ve told you everything… you—you have to release me.”
“So you can tell them I’m coming?” Ian found the idea ridiculous.
“No, no… I wouldn’t dare go back to them. They’d kill me for what I said… just—just free me. I swear, I swear I won’t go to them,” the orc shouted.
“An orc who lies… it seems we’re all the same in the end,” Ian said with clear sarcasm as he turned to leave.
The orc was stunned and paused for a moment before saying, “You’ll lose.”
Ian didn’t respond.
The orc fell silent as well.
Chris and the others carried him and threw him into the pit, then covered it with wooden planks.
This time, the orc said nothing.
“What do we do now, my lord?” Chris asked.
“War horses… we need mounts. They’ll give us a great boost in power. We also need to establish a cavalry unit capable of handling the battlefield,” Ian said.
“You’re right, my lord.”
“Prepare the troops… we move in one hour.”
Ian headed toward the farmlands.
He took an axe in his hand and began working.
Old Martin arrived shortly after, and he, along with the five non-combat goblins, began transporting vegetables and herbs from the medical garden, before starting to plant a medicinal herb himself.
As for how they found it, the credit went to Chief Yora, who used her skill to search for it and had indeed found one within the village boundaries, about 700 meters away.
One herb—but old Martin would turn it into a whole garden.
This herb was a common type, but in Martin’s hands it would become something exceptional.
“My lord, I invite you to see the fruits of yesterday’s work,” he said enthusiastically.
Ian nodded and followed him.
In the medical garden, the herb had been arranged across more than half the garden.
The rest hadn’t been planted—not because the herb was unavailable, but because what had been there was moved earlier.
After some time, however, the entire garden would be filled with this herb.
##Medicinal Herb
Common
Properties: Heals superficial wounds… Warning: causes significant pain.##
“Good “. Ian nodded. The presence of this herb—or its absence—made a huge difference for the village. More importantly, it was a foundation for what was to come.
“My lord… take this,” Martin produced a small medicinal pill, like a tiny ball the size of a fingernail, and handed it to Ian.
It was pale yellow… dull and lacking vitality.
Ian took it, and the wound from the previous battle, along with his burns, began to heal.
Ian smiled and looked at old Martin, who straightened his back, ready to receive praise.
Ian laughed and hugged him. “Excellent work.”
Martin froze in place. He had expected some praise—but not this much.
##Medicine Pill
Common level
Properties: Rapidly heals superficial wounds, visibly to the naked eye. Warning: causes some pain.##
Not only had the healing speed increased, but the pain had been greatly reduced as well.
That was the brilliance of alchemy.
Titan Village had taken a major step forward.
