"...Fine, you take over then." The officer in charge of interrogation didn't protest. Since he came from a field legion, interrogation wasn't exactly his strong suit. Beyond whipping and branding, he didn't have many tricks up his sleeve.
"Watch closely," Esdeath said with a glint in her eye, her tone almost playful. "This is what you call the art of interrogation." Her boots clicked against the ground—tap, tap—as she slowly approached the bound prisoners. A faint smile tugged at her lips.
One of the captured rebel spies swallowed hard as she drew near. Something about the blue-haired officer's smile made his skin crawl, though he tried to steel himself. He was a soldier of the Revolutionary Army, after all. How could he show fear before an Imperial hound?
"You little brat," he sneered through bloodied lips. "You still wet the bed, don't you? Go home before you soil your uniform."
"You'll find out soon enough," Esdeath replied softly, her tone deceptively calm.
...
Crack!
Led by a soldier, Selene soon arrived at the interrogation site.
The camp looked calm—too calm. Selene frowned, crossing her arms. Tch... I even set this up as bait, and still no one took it?
This was a small, seemingly vulnerable outpost outside Patripol City, guarded by only fifty men. In truth, it was a lure—bait designed to draw out enemy infiltrators. Hidden forces surrounded the camp in secret, and Selene herself could rush to reinforce it at any time.
Unfortunately, the "fishing expedition" had yielded nothing so far. Damn, I'm embarrassing all the fishing masters out there, she thought dryly.
"Aaahhhhhh—!!"
"Kill me! Just kill me already!! Aaaaah—!!"
Her musings were cut short by a series of gut-wrenching screams coming from the camp.
"So, Esdeath's already begun?" Selene muttered as she strode toward the tent.
By now, she was accustomed to the blood and brutality that accompanied battlefield interrogations.
"General!" The officer who had been in charge earlier immediately dropped his whip and saluted as Selene entered.
"How's it going?" Selene asked coolly.
"They were tight-lipped, General. I beat them for hours, and they still wouldn't speak," he said nervously, sweat beading on his forehead. "Commander Esdeath took over a short while ago. She didn't ask any questions—just started... using harsher methods."
Selene followed his gaze—and just then, a wet crack split the air.
Esdeath smiled faintly as she twisted her knife, plunging it deep into the eye socket of the oldest rebel. The man's scream was high and piercing, raw with agony. Blood streamed down his face as his right eye burst from its socket.
A nearby officer stiffened, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. Even battle-hardened soldiers found the sight chilling.
Esdeath dropped the bloodied eyeball onto the ground, then crushed it under her boot with a satisfying squelch. Her expression remained cold and detached.
"The way it feels when it pops under your heel... wonderful," she murmured. "You've still got another eye. Shall I take that one too? What do you think?"
"You... you monster!" the old rebel wheezed, his voice trembling with rage and pain. His remaining eye glared up at her, filled with defiance.
"I hate it when people look at me like that," Esdeath sighed softly. Then, without hesitation, she raised her blade. The steel flashed once—clean, precise—and the man's throat split open.
"Then... die."
With a single motion, she gripped his windpipe and ripped it free. Blood sprayed across the ground, staining her uniform crimson. The rebel's body convulsed once, then went still.
Esdeath stared at the corpse, her expression serene. To her, killing a man was no different from hunting a Danger Beast.
Tap... tap...
Her boots echoed as she stepped toward the next prisoner—a frail, trembling girl no older than fifteen. Tilting her head slightly, Esdeath lifted the girl's chin with a single finger.
"Tell me," she asked gently, her tone almost kind, "would you like to end up like him?"
The girl's bloodied face was pale as snow, cold sweat streaming down her cheeks and mixing with streaks of red.
The girl's lips trembled uncontrollably, her eyes wide with terror as she stared up at Esdeath.
"I... I..."
"Enough. No need to question her further." Before she could finish, a gloved hand clad in silver armor pressed lightly on Esdeath's shoulder.
"General? You mean...?" Esdeath turned her head slightly, her tone respectful yet curious. Despite her fierce personality and disdain for authority, in front of Selene she was an obedient and almost endearing subordinate.
"Are you planning to save her?" Esdeath asked with a faint smirk.
Selene couldn't help but chuckle. "Of course not. She's nowhere near the level of potential I'd consider worth keeping. Besides, she's just a peripheral courier for the rebels—she doesn't know anything useful."
"Then... you mean to release her?" Esdeath asked uncertainly.
Before she could finish, Selene's hand struck down in a flash—a perfect strike to the girl's neck.
"Mmmph..."
"Take her away. Put her in the prison. She'll be executed tomorrow with the others," Selene ordered, withdrawing her hand.
"Yes, General!"
At her words, a strange calm washed over the girl's face, as if death itself were a form of release.
Selene watched her being led away, her crimson eyes glinting with quiet amusement. A small escort of soldiers... let's see if anyone takes the bait.
"Alright," Selene said, turning back to Esdeath, "the remaining two are yours. Don't worry about extracting information. Do as you please."
Esdeath blinked, still momentarily surprised, before straightening and saluting. "Understood, General!"
...
The next morning — Patripol City, Central Marketplace.
A vast crowd had gathered under the bright morning sun. The people had been summoned by Imperial soldiers, who went door to door commanding attendance. Today, the Empire was holding a public 'trial.'
Dozens of Imperial soldiers surrounded the square in concentric circles, maintaining order and keeping the onlookers at bay.
On the raised execution platform knelt two rows of prisoners—twenty in total—each dressed in plain white prison garb. Behind them, hundreds more captives knelt in tightly packed lines, their heads bowed, awaiting their fate.
From the balcony of a nearby building overlooking the square, Selene sat elegantly in a wooden chair, a cup of red tea in hand as she observed the proceedings.
Behind her stood several Imperial Guard captains from the Capital, their posture rigid and alert. Esdeath and the provincial governor of Patripol stood at her sides, equally attentive, waiting for what might come next.
"Heh..." Selene's lips curved into a faint smile. "Tell me—do you think any of the rebel spies who escaped last night will be foolish enough to come and rescue their comrades?"