Alex leaned back, his fingers tapping against the table, his mind turning over the implications. It wasn’t that alchemy hadn’t produced objects capable of holding living creatures, enchanted tents, wizarding houses fortified with the Extension Charm, and even some specialized magical chests could achieve that to a degree.
However, a device that could store a large number of living beings while remaining small and portable? That was an entirely different matter. The biggest limitation wasn’t the enchantment itself but the materials required to sustain such magic.
His own space ring, for instance, could store a vast amount of items, but living things? Impossible. Meanwhile, magical containers that could hold living creatures were invariably large and cumbersome, certainly not something one could carry around discreetly.
And if the Silver Wand, or any other smuggling ring, got their hands on such a device? The consequences would be staggering. It would revolutionize the illegal magical trade, making the transport of creatures, contraband, and even people significantly easier.
That thought alone made Alex’s expression darken. But now wasn’t the time to dwell on hypotheticals, he had a captive who was still talking freely under the effects of Veritaserum, and he intended to push for as much information as possible before the potion wore off. He turned his attention back to Iseron. "Tell me about your wands and masks. And how do you pass messages to ‘Thunderbird’ after completing a mission?"
Iseron, still dazed under the potion’s effects, answered immediately. "Our Silver Wand Club takes pride in the aspen wands we wield, they are a mark of purity and strength. Anyone seeking to join must undergo the club’s trials, the most important of which is a duel. Only by proving one’s worth in combat can a wizard earn their own aspen wand and mask. These are the symbols of membership. Only after receiving a wand are we recognized as full-fledged members. Then, we gain access to the club’s resources. In exchange, we are required to carry out voluntary assignments as needed."
"As for how we communicate with Thunderbird… that is done through the, "Iseron suddenly stopped. His face twisted in pain, contorting with an expression more agonizing than any physical torture Alex had inflicted before. He clenched his jaw, his entire body seizing up as a strangled sound escaped his throat.
Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘Memory tampering.’ "That’s enough," Alex commanded sharply. His tone cut through the tension, and the instant his words registered, Iseron’s body slackened. The unnatural strain faded, and his expression returned to a neutral daze, though beads of sweat lined his forehead. ‘So they’ve been conditioned,’ Alex mused.
Something, possibly a modified version of the Slytherin Protection Charm, prevents them from revealing key information. If that was the case, cracking it wouldn’t be easy. He could attempt to break it, but if he wasn’t careful, the spell might erase critical memories, or worse, kill the subject outright. No, it was better to ask other questions first. There was still time before the Veritaserum wore off. Legilimency could be an option later, but sifting through someone’s entire mind was exhausting and riskier when dealing with a spell-triggered defense. Alex shifted tactics. "Let’s talk about magic. The spell you used to escape underground, what is it? And that corrosive spell you used in battle?"
Iseron, no longer struggling against mental restraints, answered without hesitation. "That was the Subterreo and the Corrosion Hex, Vitriolis. These are part of the club’s restricted magic collection. The club values one-on-one duels and the study of combat. As a result, it has gathered an extensive collection of rare spells, unique techniques, and research materials. Only full members can access these secrets, and even then, they must earn the right by accumulating enough merit within the club. The four of us were assigned to the infiltration squad because we had learned the Subterreo. As for the other spells, " Iseron suddenly convulsed again. His expression twisted into agony, just like before.
Alex immediately stopped him. "That’s enough."
Iseron’s body slumped, his breathing ragged but steady.
Alex frowned. ‘So, any information about the Silver Wands, their headquarters, or their exclusive magical techniques is off-limits. But mission details? Those seem to be alright. Maybe because operational tasks are assigned on a case-by-case basis, so there’s no time to permanently enchant their memories?’
Alex's interrogation yielded little of real value. The Silver Wand Club's Apprentice Wand members operated in isolation, each only communicating directly with their assigned Adept, never with one another. They lived by the club’s strict protocols, and while Iseron confirmed that the organization had operated in Britain before, the details remained vague.
Most of the club's activities had been concentrated on the European continent, where they worked in small teams, either gathering intelligence from the shadows or stealing rare magical creatures. The missions were small-scale, focused more on acquiring obscure magical animals rather than engaging in anything grander. None of it helped Alex get a clearer picture of the organization’s deeper workings.
Frustrated with the lack of useful information, Alex decided to push further. He had hesitated to use Legilimency before, his skills in it were more instinctive than practiced, but now seemed as good a time as any. If he could bypass Iseron’s memory blocks and access hidden information, it would be a game changer.
Taking a deep breath, Alex steadied himself, locked eyes with Iseron, and reached into his mind. And then, it all went horribly wrong. The defenses in Iseron’s mind were crude but brutally effective.
The moment Alex made contact, an overwhelming force of mental energy surged outward, violently ejecting him from the other man’s consciousness. Iseron convulsed, his body seizing uncontrollably. Then, he simply went still.
A blank, vacant stare replaced the dazed compliance Veritaserum had induced. His expression hollowed, his eyes unfocused. The man who had once been Iseron was gone, his mind reduced to nothing but an empty shell. Alex blinked. It had all happened in seconds. "Damn." He attempted another probe, hoping to salvage something, but the damage was irreversible. Every critical memory had been forcefully wiped, leaving behind only a fragmented, broken mind.
Fang and Wimzy had been watching the interrogation closely, but now they both looked alarmed. "master… is there any way to fix him?" Wimzy asked hesitantly.
"No," Alex said flatly, his voice laced with irritation. He ran a hand through his hair. "The protective enchantment in his mind was brutal. The moment I pushed too far, it activated and destroyed his mind. There’s nothing left to recover. He’s just… gone."
"Then what do we do now? Want me to just bite him and put him out of his misery?" Fang bared his sharp teeth, his gaze fixed hungrily on the man’s throat.
"Don’t be ridiculous." Alex smacked Fang lightly on the head. "This, " he gestured at Iseron’s unresponsive form, ", is still useful. His mind might be gone, but his body is still in perfect condition. His mana reserves are impressive, 756 Lum. Killing him would be a waste."
Fang blinked in confusion. "Wait, Master actually want to keep him?"