Chapter 120: 120. Infiltration – 3

William stopped speaking and turned toward Maris, who was now drenched in blood from head to toe.

Her clothes were soaked and clung to her body as if the violence she had just committed had left a physical weight behind.

Her breathing was ragged and rough.

Sunchaser stood beside her, immaculate, his white feathers untouched by the filth below.

He carefully avoided the blood by restraining the target through pure aura suppression rather than using his talons like before, as if the very idea of contact with such impurity offended his nature.

William lowered his gaze and looked down at the tortured figure on the ground, the body twisted into an unnatural shape, barely recognizable as a living person and even less recognizable as what had once been an elf.

He noticed the severed long elven ears lying nearby, discarded carelessly on the dirt, and the black robe that had once concealed the man’s identity had been torn away, revealing pale elven skin marked with cuts and deep bruises that told a clear story of what had happened.

“For an elf,” William said with detached tone, “you have a surprising pain tolerance.”

There were no eyes left to meet his gaze, only empty sockets that stared into the dark.

William then turned toward Maris, who stood frozen in place, her entire body trembling uncontrollably as she stared at the broken form before her, as if only now fully understanding what her hands had done.

Tears fell from her eyes, slipping down her cheeks and mixing with the blood on her face, and in that moment.

William understood with complete clarity that Maris was not suited for the role of a torturer.

Even though she had followed his orders and proved her usefulness without hesitation, even though she had endured worse herself in the dragon prison, some people were simply not built to repeatedly inflict suffering without losing pieces of themselves in the process.

*Flop!

Maris collapsed on her knees, her legs giving out as the accumulated mental strain finally overwhelmed her, and she began to cry openly, her shoulders shaking as sobs escaped her chest without restraint.

William watched her silently for a few seconds before waving his hand and sending her into the Domain of Infinity, deciding to give her some personal space.

He did not feel guilt over what he had made her do, because from his perspective, this world did not allow the luxury of innocence, and she had already lived on the receiving end of torture long enough to understand its reality.

Still, he acknowledged internally that forcing someone to endure such acts repeatedly without preparation would only break them, and that realization led him to a practical conclusion.

He needed a professional torturer among his servants, someone whose mind would not fracture under prolonged exposure to suffering.

“I wonder why I do not shiver or faint while doing things like this,” William murmured to himself as he looked down at the scene.

[You did actually faint after you killed Vorin]

“Tsk, that doesn’t count, I don’t even know what that was. I just felt a sharp headache and fainted without reason, maybe a problem with blood pressure,” William replied, his brows knitting slightly.

[Nope]

“Then what was it? Do I have a disease or something?”

[maybe, I don’t know]

William narrowed his eyes, sensing something strange in the system’s response, but he chose not to pursue the matter further, knowing that pushing for answers only led to petty arguments with the bastard system.

[I feel like you are cussing me]

Without replying, he extended his hand toward the broken elf once more and attempted to place the slave mark again.

[ding!! Slave mark placed successfully. Individual Benson has been enslaved.]

William released a slow breath as he looked at the twitching, half-dead body on the ground, which was now officially his slave.

He summoned Amorphous from the Domain of Infinity and ordered him to hold the elf’s eyes and ears and limbs in place, after which William used Luminous Embrace to attach them to some extent, and also ensured that his injuries would not remain fatal.

Next, he took out several potions and minor healing artifacts that he remembered receiving from Sword Saint Klaus years ago, items he had kept unused till now.

Thanks to the rank of the potions, Benson’s body healed steadily, and all the organs restored themselves to functional condition without complications.

Once the healing finished, Benson’s form returned to something resembling his original state, with only outer flesh wounds remaining and marks that could easily be concealed beneath clothing.

William then looked down and noticed the elf’s torn and blood-soaked attire.

“I hope you have an extra robe in your spatial ring,” William asked

The elven man Benson nodded silently, his movements were mechanical, his eyes were hollow, as if he were a robot.

“Dress up,” William continued, “and take me to the base where you were originally supposed to take me.”

He paused briefly before adding, “Before that, shareall the information you possess, from your birth date to everything you know about the cults, with him,” he pointed at Amorphous.

At William’s words, Amorphous sulked slightly behind him, his shoulders drooping in visible reluctance, but a single glance from William was enough to make him nod obediently.

William observed the interaction closely, realizing that even under the slave mark, emotions were not erased, and he could clearly see the lifelessness in Benson’s eyes and the annoyed resignation on the shape-shifter’s face.

A few minutes passed as Benson shared everything he knew with Amorphous, every memory and detail about the internal workings of the clayman cult, locations of critical hubs, and names of every aide or cultist he knew, with all the information that he had about them.

It was so much information that Amopurphous sweated and took notes in a diary he got from William, who, for a moment, felt pity for his slave having to learn so much data.

Once the process finished, William cancelled the summoning on Sunchaser, sending the swan back into the astral plane.

Low rattling noises echoed from the carriage nearby, indicating that the other restrained individuals had begun to wake up and regain consciousness.

William turned his head toward Amorphous and nodded silently, and the shape-shifter immediately transformed into Ethan’s form, which he deliberately made a bit battered, as if it had been beaten by a group of mob on William’s instructions.

Benson moved as he got mental orders from William and restrained the duplicate Ethan with another set of chains.

Amorphous acted as if he had fainted, and Benson lifted him like a sack of grain before moving toward the back of the carriage, where the rest of the restrained individuals were now fully awake.

“This insect tried to escape,” Benson shouted while looking at them.

“Now he has been beaten up like a dog; his life was spared since I am merciful, but this is the only time I am warning you all.”

He glanced over the group before continuing, “Remember my words. If any of you tries anything funny during this trip, I will not limit myself to just beating.”

“You all might die,” Benson warned before throwing the duplicate Ethan’s battered body into the carriage without care.

Amorphous groaned softly, playing his role well, though internally he cursed the elf for using real restricting chains that suppressed even demonic energy.

After delivering the warning, Benson repaired the damaged hinges of the cage and secured the doors firmly, ensuring that no one inside could escape.

William quietly took out Trickster’s Veil, activating it as he moved onto the roof of the carriage.

With everything set, Benson took his seat and moved the carriage forward toward the destination, as if nothing unusual had occurred along the way.

William lay concealed above, watching the forest pass by beneath him.

He was about to tear apart a demonic cult from the inside in the coming days, and he looked forward to it.

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