They had stopped in front of a prison cell.

“Ravan…” Vivian muttered through gritted teeth, his voice low and heavy with anger he had held in for far too long.

His father and grandfather stood beside him, both silent, both staring at the man inside with cold, steady eyes.

The cell was small and filthy.

The stone floor was damp, and the smell of rot filled the air.

Rats ran along the corners without fear, and insects crawled freely across the walls.

It was a place where no one would last long, a place meant to break a person even before the punishment truly began.

And yet… the man inside was already broken.

Ravan hung from chains fixed into the wall.

His arms were stretched out, bound tightly at the wrists, forcing his body to hang forward.

His head was lowered, his hair messy and sticking to his face, hiding most of his expression.

His body was covered in wounds.

There were deep marks from whips, some fresh, some already dried.

Blood had stained his clothes and skin, and in some places, the flesh had torn open.

It was clear he had been through days of torture without rest.

“…kill me…” he whispered.

His voice was weak, barely more than air.

It shook as it came out, filled with pain and something even deeper… defeat.

His face had no life left in it.

No pride, no anger, no resistance.

Only regret remained, heavy and endless, as if it had finally crushed everything else inside him.

Vivian watched him in silence.

When he first arrived here… no, even long before that, before the war had even begun, he had imagined this moment many times.

He had waited for the day when this man would fall, when this man would be reduced to nothing.

He had wanted to see him beg.

Not just him… his father and Duke Sant too.

All three of them had suffered because of this man.

Because of his greed. Because of his hunger for power.

This was the man who had brought pain into their lives without a second thought.

And if things had gone even slightly differently…

If Vivian had not found a way to deal with that curse…

Then everything would have ended in a far worse way.

Vivian’s eyes darkened slightly as that memory surfaced.

Back then, when he was trying to break through to Grandmaster, he had seen it… that life.

A path filled with nothing but pain. Even after death, there was no peace waiting for him, only more suffering.

That curse had almost destroyed everything.

And the one who had placed it… was standing right here.

Pathetic.

Begging for death.

For a moment, no one spoke.

The silence in the corridor felt heavier than before.

Even the faint sounds of rats seemed distant, as if the world itself had stepped back from this moment.

“Ravan…” Duke Sant finally spoke.

His voice was calm, but firm.

“You will be executed,” he said, his expression serious and unchanging as he looked at the man hanging before him.

There was no anger in his tone.

Only judgment.

A slow, final judgment that had already been decided.

Ravan’s body trembled slightly at those words, but he did not lift his head.

It was as if he had already accepted it… or perhaps he no longer had the strength to react.

Duke Sant continued.

“However,” he said, taking a small step forward, “if you reveal everything you know…”

He paused for a brief moment, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“…I cannot promise to save you.”

His voice remained steady, leaving no room for false hope.

“But I will spare those who are not involved in your actions.”

“I… don’t know anything…” Ravan forced the words out with great effort.

His voice cracked in the middle, dry and weak, as if even speaking had become a burden too heavy for him to carry.

“This is your last chance,” Vined spoke, his tone calm but firm.

They needed everything Ravan knew.

Every secret, every connection. A man like him did not rise so high without building roots deep into the empire.

Even after betraying it, he had formed ties with nobles who quietly leaned toward greed and power.

And Ravan was not a fool.

He was careful. Too careful.

He never shared everything, not even with his most trusted aides.

Even that clown… he had only seen the surface, never the full plan.

“I don’t know…” Ravan repeated.

But this time, he did not stop there.

“If you want to know about… that other continent…” he said slowly, each word dragging along with pain, “you shouldn’t rely on me…”

His head dropped further as his breath grew uneven.

“And my family…” he continued after a pause, “…they have nothing to do with this.”

Only then did he slightly lift his face, just enough for his voice to come out clearer.

“My sons… and my brother… they know things…”

He swallowed, his throat dry.

“But the women… they are innocent.”

A quiet silence followed.

“Hm…” Duke Sant hummed, his gaze fixed on Ravan.

The man before him was filthy, broken, and no different from a cornered animal.

This was someone who would have sacrificed anyone without a second thought for his own gain.

And yet now, standing on the edge of death…

He chose not to drag everyone down with him.

“Tsk.”

Duke Sant clicked his tongue, a faint trace of annoyance crossing his face.

“It’s no use,” he said after a moment.

“He doesn’t know anything.”

There was a slight edge of irritation in his voice now, mixed with something colder… anger that had not fully faded.

He turned slightly toward Vined.

“Send orders to the investigation department,” he said.

“Search every corner of his estate. Leave nothing untouched.”

His eyes hardened.

“Find out everything connected to him.”

Vined gave a short nod. “Alright. I’ll issue the order.”

Then his gaze shifted toward Vivian.

Vivian had been quiet the entire time.

“Don’t you have something to say to him?” Vined asked.

For a moment, there was no response.

Vivian stood still, his eyes on Ravan, his expression unreadable.

But the moment his father’s voice settled, something in his gaze changed.

“No,” he said simply.

Then he turned his head slightly toward the side, where two guards stood at attention.

“Guards,” he called.

The two men immediately stepped forward, bowing. “You called, my lord?”

Vivian gave a small nod.

“Yes. Where is the torturer?”

The guards glanced at each other before one of them answered, “He has gone to have breakfast, my lord.”

There was a brief pause.

“Should we call him back?” the guard asked carefully.

“No,” Vivian shook his head.

He turned back toward Ravan.

His eyes were calm… too calm.

He had not forgotten.

What Kafrik had done to him… the pain, the suffering, the helplessness….

None of it had been forgiven.

“Tell him when he returns…” Vivian said slowly.

There was no anger in his voice.

No raised tone.

“First… gouge out his eyes.”

The guards stiffened slightly.

“Then peel his skin,” he continued, as if listing simple tasks.

“And rub salt over his body.”

Ravan’s fingers twitched faintly against the chains.

“And after that…” Vivian added, his gaze steady, “pull out every strand of his hair.”

He paused for a brief second.

“…while he is still alive.”

The corridor fell into complete silence.

Even the faint sounds of movement in the cell seemed to stop.

The guards bowed their heads deeply.

“…Yes, my lord.”

And Ravan…

For the first time since they arrived….his body trembled.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep