Xavier then looked alternately between Zaefal and Fyar. "You two," he said, his tone calm and firm. "Treat your wounds. Rest. This interrogation is an internal Guardian matter. Your mission is complete for now."
Hearing this, Fyar flinched. He stared at Xavier in disbelief. "What? Weren’t we supposed to..."
"Your conditions are quite severe. Your mental states are also unstable. Additionally, the information this man might reveal could be sensitive." Xavier cut him off. "Go rest."
Zaefal was momentarily surprised by the decision, but what Xavier said made sense. His own condition was serious; the burn on his arm still throbbed painfully. "Come on, Fyar," Zaefal said. He patted Fyar’s shoulder. "These are their procedures. We’ve done our part."
Fyar wanted to protest again. Annoyance burned in his chest at being unable to learn crucial information after risking his life in Dark Town for nearly a week.
He felt like a cheap tool, discarded after use. However, he also understood such secrecy procedures within kingdoms and nations. In the end, he just let out a harsh sigh, exhaustion overriding his frustration. "Alright."
Autumn opened the thick steel door from the inside. A narrow, dim corridor was visible beyond it. Cold air drifted in from the hallway.
"Again, good work, both of you," Xavier said curtly. His focus was now entirely on Vorlag, who was beginning to groan in the metal chair. "We will contact you again later."
Zaefal and Fyar walked out of the room. The steel door closed behind them with a heavy, echoing click. Fyar stared at the door for a moment, a mixture of frustration and weariness etched onto his pale face.
Sly Motherfucker , he thought again.
Silence returned to the windowless interrogation room. Xavier let out a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He turned to Autumn, who stood rigidly near Vorlag, still bound tightly. "Now."
Autumn nodded. She took out a small amulet shaped like a dull metal disk from her uniform pouch. Faint runes were etched onto its surface. She approached Vorlag, who was groaning softly, regaining consciousness. Vorlag’s eyes shot open wide with panic as he saw Autumn approach.
"D-don’t touch me! Let me go, you bastards ain’t tell you nothing you dirty dog kingdom!" Vorlag began to struggle in his chair, but the anti-magic shackles held him fast. The metal links rattled softly.
Autumn ignored his protests. With one swift motion, she pressed the metal amulet against Vorlag’s sweating forehead.
Vorlag gasped. A soft hiss was heard as the amulet adhered. A dim blue light pulsed briefly from its runes, then faded. Vorlag stopped struggling. His body went rigid. His expression shifted to one of pure terror mixed with confusion.
"Alright. Tell us about your sugar daddy vorlag," Xavier began. He pulled the second metal chair across the stone floor with a scrape and sat facing Vorlag. "This artifact ensures honesty. Trying to lie will only hurt you. Go ahead and try if you have balls."
Vorlag swallowed hard, his throat dry. He tried to clamp his mouth shut, but his jaw felt stiff, refusing to obey. His eyes darted wildly between Xavier and Autumn.
"Name all external factions working directly with Martis," Xavier commanded.
Vorlag gritted his teeth. Sweat poured down his temples. He looked like he was resisting with all his might. His face turned red with the effort. "...D-Dragons..." he said haltingly, as if each syllable was being forcibly pulled from him. "...Vampires... Order Zero Zero... Rituk..."
Autumn quickly jotted down the names in a small notebook. The tip of her quill moved silently across the paper.
"Their respective roles," Xavier continued, his tone unchanging.
Vorlag trembled. "...Dragons... ancient artifacts... secret routes... 000... cursed weapons... information... Vampires... special blood supplies... Rituk... slaves... and..." He stopped, gasping for breath, the veins in his neck bulging.
"Are you choking huh?" Xavier said coldly.
"...and political protection from certain nobles in... the capital..." Vorlag finally managed to say. His breathing was ragged.
So, there really are Dragons involved, Xavier thought.
"Did Martis hire Whitening to kill Kail and frame Starfall?"
Vorlag squeezed his eyes shut tightly. He shook his head violently, as if fighting it. But his mouth opened against his will. "Yes. Yes. The order... was to frame the purple haired one."
"Proof?" Xavier asked.
"No... physical proof... Transaction... through intermediary... encrypted..." Vorlag said, his breath short.
Xavier nodded slowly. Enough for now. "Where does Martis keep his most secret transaction records?"
Vorlag fell silent again, his body tensing. Pain was evident in his eyes as he fought the artifact’s compulsion. "...Safe... beneath... his study. Only he... can open..."
"How is it opened?"
"...Blood... and... keyword..."
"Alright," Xavier said. He then put a smile on his face. An unfriendly smile. "Now, tell me the list of nobles protecting him."
...
Late night in the luxurious suite at the Outgal Inn.
The silence in the suite felt heavy, broken only by the faint sound of ocean waves heard from the window and Rasie’s steady breathing. She was fast asleep on the sofa, one arm dangling toward the floor.
Meanwhile, Illya couldn’t sleep. She paced relentlessly in front of the large window overlooking Stone Town. The moonlight illuminated the expensive carpet beneath her bare feet. Her mind was in turmoil. Worry gnawed at her heart.
Fyar. Zaefal. Are they okay? Did Zaefal manage to meet Fyar? What if they got caught? What if... She stopped that thought, biting her lip anxiously. The papers containing the alliance’s advanced strategies lay forgotten on the table.
She stopped pacing, pressing her forehead against the cool glass of the window. She stared at the city lights beginning to extinguish one by one, and the dark sea before her.
Zaefal hasn’t returned. Should I find out myself? Should I wake Rasie up? Fear mixed with worry intensified within Illya.
Click.
The soft sound of the main suite door being unlocked from the outside.
W-who?! Illya flinched. Her heart pounded. She spun around quickly, her hand unconsciously reaching for the pendant around her neck.
The door opened slowly. Two dark-robed figures stepped into the dimly lit living room. The first was taller, slightly broader in the shoulders, his movements a bit stiff. His left arm was heavily bandaged. That figure was Zaefal.
The second figure was slightly shorter, his steps looked weary. Slowly, he lowered the hood of his robe.
Illya froze. Her eyes were fixed on the figure beneath the hood.
It’s Fyar. It’s Fyar! But... his hair? Black? He’s alive! He’s okay! Fyar’s face looked pale with a few scratches on his neck, and dried blood at the corner of his lips.
Fyar looked straight at Illya and smiled gently, a smile that looked tired yet sincere. "Hello, Illya."
For a moment, Illya could only stare. Her brain tried to process the figure in front of her. Then, all the doubt and worry in her heart vanished instantly. Replaced by overwhelming relief. The relief was so strong her legs felt weak. Tears she had been holding back with difficulty began to well up in the corners of her eyes.
He’s back. They’re back!
Without answering Fyar’s greeting, Illya ran across the room. She crashed into Fyar, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck, burying her face in the cold, dirty fabric of his robe. She hugged him so tightly, as if afraid Fyar would disappear again if she let go. She could feel Fyar’s rapid, strong heartbeat beneath her ear. She felt Fyar flinch slightly from her sudden embrace, then slowly return the hug. One of Fyar’s arms hesitantly wrapped around her back.
Illya began to sob softly. Her shoulders shook. All the fear, the hours of anxiety, finally broke. Her tears soaked Fyar’s robe. "T-thank goodness. Thank goodness. I-I thought... I thought I wouldn’t see you again. I... I... I was so, so worried... I..." Her words were choked by sobs.
Fyar slowly rubbed Illya’s back gently. "I’m sorry for making you worry." Fyar paused for a moment, letting Illya cry. Then a thin smile returned to his face. "I missed you, Illya. I missed you so much."
Amidst her sobs, within that tight embrace, Illya lifted her face slightly. Her wet eyes met Fyar’s. "There’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you, Fyar. I always held it back... and worried I’d never get to say it."
"What is it?" Fyar asked softly.
Illya smiled gently at the man. She moved her face closer, then whispered in a hoarse, barely audible voice, right into Fyar’s ear.
"I love you too, Fyar. I truly love you. With all that I am."
Fyar flinched upon hearing it. His pupils dilated. He could feel his ears getting hot, and his heart pounded even faster than before. He raised his other hand and hugged Illya back tightly, this time with both arms.
On the sofa, Rasie shifted slightly in her sleep, mumbled something unintelligible, then resumed snoring softly. Zaefal stood silently near the door, letting the two have their moment, before finally walking quietly toward the kitchen to get a drink.