(Dupravel Nuna's POV, Interrogation Chamber, Black Serpent Guild Headquarters, Planet Twin Fang)
Twelve hours after his office rampage, Dupravel Nuna stood deathly still in the center of a circular chamber buried deep beneath the Black Serpent Guild's core facility.
It was a place sealed from light, sound, and prayer. A place built for nothing but violation.
The floor of the room was etched with ritualistic glyphs soaked in old blood, the dried stains a proof of all the previous horrors that took place over the years.
And at the center of it all, sprawled atop a stone pedestal, lay the freshly delivered corpse of a transcendent warrior, which the guild had specially procured by killing a guildmaster of a small time guild.
"He's a match," Antonio said as he pulled the cloth away from the body. "Same mana signature type, similar size, it's exactly what you requested."
Dupravel said nothing, as he simply raised his hand and summoned the urn.
*HISS*
The temperature in the room suddenly dropped a few degrees, as from a fourth dimensional space emerged an urn.
It didn't float, it glided in Dupravel's palm, as the white glyphs written on its silver body glowed faintly.
Antonio couldn't help but shudder in its presence, as although he had seen Dupravel perform this ritual to bring back the dead at least a hundred times now, he still couldn't help but tremble, everytime he witnessed the act.
"Mahumta, Falleva, Mareba, Makumbaya!"
Dupravel chanted out loud in the old tongue, as he slowly unscrewed the top of the urn.
*SHHHHK*
A dry hiss escaped the urn, like breath from a forgotten tomb as it unsealed successfully.
Then, as Dupravel tilted it, a thin stream of dark black ash trickled out ever so slightly, which Dupravel cupped carefully, before closing the urn at once.
"Mahumta, Falleva, Mareba, Makumbaya!"
He chanted again, as he signalled for Antonio to pull open the dead man's mouth.
*Open*
Antonio did as asked, and held the dead man's mouth open, as Dupravel slammed the ash into the dead man's throat before smothering the dead man's face with his palm, as he channeled his mana through the dead body.
The reaction was instant.
*THUMP*
The corpse arched violently.
*CRACK*
Ribs snapped inward, the skin split across the sternum, and from within that tear— light appeared.
There was a faint flicker of white light, followed by a loud scream.
"ARGHHHHH—-"
A voice roared through the room, however, creepily, it did not originate from the dead man's throat, but rather from inside his lungs, from his very soul.
The body spasmed, convulsing as Jishan's soul, now forcefully anchored into this foreign flesh, clawed its way back to the surface of consciousness.
*GASP*
The eyes flew open.
And then, silence.
Until Jishan looked up and saw Dupravel standing above him, calm, composed, and smiling.
"No... no, I died... I died... I— what is this?" Jishan croaked, his voice warped, broken, as fear appeared in his eyes.
"Oh, you died alright," Dupravel said coolly, crouching beside the table.
"But now you're back. And you're going to answer a few questions for me, Jishan. Because a summoned soul bound by my urn cannot lie." Dupravel said, as he ran his fingers evilly across Jishan's terrified face, enjoying every second of this intimidation.
"No… no… nooo—"
Jishan trembled. His fingers twitched, clawing at the slab, but his limbs barely responded, as fear bloomed across the new face he wore.
"You can't move…. You can't do anything but breathe and talk unless I will you to. And currently I don't…. I don't want you to move, so you can't—" Dupravel said with a smile, as Jishan finally understood the position he was in.
Soul Magic was one of the most difficult magic in the universe, and there were not more than 3 recorded cases of there being Grandmaster or higher tiered Soul Mages.
Hence what Dupravel did here today, by anchoring his soul to a foreign body, was nothing short of impossible, as this was logically impossible to achieve.
And yet, here he was, back alive, staring at the one man he hated the most, while being completely in his command.
"Where is my son?" Dupravel asked, his voice soft, his smile gentle.
As Jishan hesitated…. Even tried to resist the question with all his might, however, something within him broke instantly, as he simply couldn't help but start blabbering.
"I... I don't know. I wasn't told. I was always meant to die... I was disposable. They didn't tell me the plan beyond the attack... ."
Dupravel's eyes narrowed, as he did not like the answer even one bit.
"Fucking Evil Cult Bastards….. I wasted my strength by resurrecting this clown, he knows nothing—" Dupravel cursed, as in his anger he pulled Jishan's hand to his face and began biting off his fingers one by one, as he caused unimaginable pain to Jishan's body.
"ARGH… ARGH…. AAA…" Jishan screamed, but there was no one in the room who gave a fuck.
As Antonio simply let out a long sigh and said "Although he doesn't know about Darnell… he might know something else about the Evil Cult that we can use…. Ask him about that—"
He suggested, as Dupravel stopped with his harming spree for a second, and turned to look towards Jishan with cold eyes.
"What do you know about the cult? Tell us everything—" He commanded, as with tears rolling down his eyes, Jishan began blabbering everything he knew about the cult.
"The elder I reported to was known only as Mighty Mouse… he was the one who orchestrated this entire operation, the mastermind who began laying the groundwork for this attack as far back as…" Jishan began, his voice quivering as the truth spilled out uncontrollably.
And for the next two hours, he spoke without pause.
He told Dupravel everything—
Right from the start about the brothers he trained with since childhood, the rituals they endured, the secret codes and phrases they used to identify one another across planets, the black-market arms routes that armed them, the financial sources that sustained them, the sanctuaries they built in remote systems, the cult's organizational hierarchy, to the names of the other two transcendent operatives who had taken Darnell Nuna and disappeared through the spatial rift.
He confessed it all, like an obedient little pet too terrified to bite, even as he trembled in fear with every answer he gave.
And yet, when the last word left his mouth and the truth stood fully exposed before Dupravel, there was no mercy for him.
There was no reprieve.
There was only a slow, cruel smile that curled across the Guildmaster's face, one that promised pain not out of necessity, but out of twisted indulgence.
"Well done," Dupravel said softly, stepping closer, his voice almost affectionate now. "Now that you've served your purpose... I get to kill you again, this time slowly… this time properly… this time for fun."
And so, against a backdrop of screams that tore through the stone halls like cursed music, Dupravel made good on that promise.
Six more hours of pain followed.
Six more hours of inventive cruelty, not because he needed to extract anything more, but simply because he could.
As only when the ashes had been wrung of all their agony did he finally let Jishan's soul crumble into silence, granting him the one mercy he had withheld until the very end— oblivion.