The mage took out a wooden wand from his coat. Pointing it towards Zeke, he began chanting, “Ancient sparks of heaven, I call upon the Spirits of Blaze—”
As Zeke stood there watching the man cast his spells, he stared ahead at the formation of crimson mana swirling from the wand's tip. It condensed into magic circles, nearly covering the mage from head to toe.
Lysander slightly leaned in to whisper, “...Are you not going to stop him?”
“Stop him from what?”
“Casting the spell,” Lysander sounded confused, “Don't tell me you plan on letting him finish it? Even I can tell it's a powerful spell.”
Zeke didn't respond immediately. Soon, he tilted his head just enough to make eye contact with his brother. A wide grin spread across his lips. “...Just watch.”
“—embody the fury of the sun and rain destruction upon my enemy!” The magic circles pulsated with power, “Burn them to cinders, Wrath of the Sun!”
‘BOOMM!!’
A column of flame wide enough to engulf the entire tunnel surged from the mystical rings. It struck its target so hard and fast that even Lysander got startled from the noise and intensity. He had to put up his arms to shield his face from the heat. “What happened to Silas? I can't see anything.”
“AHAHAHAHAHA!” The mage's thunderous voice rang out from behind the massive fire, “When it comes to fire magic, I could burn even the most skilled aura users to cinders! No matter what trick you pull, a greenhorn mage like you could never block this!”
“Could never what now?”
“Huh!!??”
When the flames died down and the circles flickered away, Zeke remained perfectly unscatched, standing inside a translucent, glass-like sheet that had shielded him from the attack.
Even though his hood covered most of his face, the mage could not hide the sheer confusion in his voice as he stepped back, “How, how…That is not possible…”
“I mean, I can block S tier skills so your chuunibyou magic definitely can't hurt me.” Zeke resisted the urge to speak his mind. Instead, he smiled. “Oh, and you said my brother couldn't sense the danger he was in.”
Not letting the man speak, Zeke took out the Arcane Resonance from his inventory and aimed it straight at him. For a split second, his smile grew into a twisted smirk, “You are sure one to talk.”
As the energy beam approached the wizard, he extended his palm, causing the ruby on his ring to flash. It formed a barrier of crimson that took the shock, but it broke in a matter of seconds.
“Oh? That ring looks interesting, I didn't expect you to block that.” Zeke commented, eyes glued to the gem's fading gleam.
“...Who are you?”
“Hm?”
The mage snarled through gritted teeth, “I asked who you are! Chantless is an impossible technique for an amateur like you to learn!” While they could barely hear it under all his frantic screaming, a hint of terror shook his voice, “That spell of yours was so powerful and yet it doesn't show its magic circle!”
Zeke blinked at the man's word, turning to face Lysander just in time to see the shocked look on his face. “...Is that a big deal?”
“You don't know?” The brother sounded even more confused than him, “The number of mages able to cast spells chantless is already in the two digits. But as for mages who can hide the magic circles of strong spells…only the Grand Mage had succeeded in doing so…once.”
When Zeke returned his attention to the mage, he'd already whirled around in an attempt to escape. With quick thinking, Zeke extended his hand and instantly the man's limbs froze in place.
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“Wha—What is this!?” He screamed as he tried but failed to struggle out of his invisible bindings.
“We're not done here yet, so where do you think you're going?” Zeke smiled, walking closer to the mage with Lysander trailing behind him, “You're going to answer some questions, and if I'm satisfied, I may consider letting you go, okay?”
The man grinded his teeth, “Fuck off! I refuse to do as you say, you damn aristocrats!”
Zeke narrowed his eyes, “Oh really?”
As the mage opened his mouth to argue, he suddenly realized he couldn't find his words. Frigid air replaced the usual temper of the abandoned mines. If he hadn't known any better, he would've thought a blizzard swept through these tunnels.
“First of all,” Zeke's face cleared away all emotions, left with nothing but ice in his tone, “You're going to have to tell me where you took Rowena.”
“...And why would I do that?” The mage swallowed down an invisible lump in his throat. He may not have noticed, but his body had began quivering, “Even if you torture me, I would not utter a word that will harm my brothers.”
Zeke laughed. However, his still face did not match with his voice. “Torture…huh? Thank you kindly for the idea…”
‘SNAP.’
“AHHRRGGHH!!!!” With his right arm now bent all the way over his back, the man could only let out cries of agony as tears stung his eyes. His hood lifted slightly as he looked up at Zeke, and pure dread gripped at his throat when he saw nothing on his face.
“He actually hurt me…That kid actually hurt me…” Thoughts rushed through his mind faster than ever before, “He won't stop until I speak, right? Will he keep going until I'm dead? What if I pass out? What will he do to me?”
“Feel like speaking now?” Zeke tilted his head, “Or maybe you need to be reminded of your position more. What should I break next?” He lifted his hand, letting the strings from his fingertips flickered mockingly under the torches’ light, “There are two hundred and six bones in the human body. I just bent your arm out of its socket, but imagine how much more painful it would've been if I snapped it completely?”
The mage turned towards Lysander, seeing the surprised look on his face, he felt a glimmer of hope, “D-Do something! He's going too far! Shouldn't you stop him!? Stop him damn it!”
“...” Lysander slowly looked at Zeke, and he too stared back at him. Eventually, after grueling seconds had passed, the brother spoke, “Silas, break his femur.”
As the mage's expression twisted in horror, Zeke smiled brightly, “With pleasure.” He replied earnestly and tugged his fingers back, sending another nasty ‘crack!’ around the cavern alongside the man's screams.
“...The room…” A mumble sounded from the man, too low and hoarse to hear properly.
“What was that?” Zeke tilted his head.
“A room! A room at the far end of this right turn! She's being held there!” The mage snapped at him, fear lacing his every word.
“Reason?” Lysander planted his sword into the ground.
“...We want to get our revenge on Creston Salvador,” the mage's voice went low, clearly afraid to speak badly of his interrogators’ father, “He took away our homes…our family! How are we supposed to simply forgive him and move on!?”
Zeke shared a glance with Lysander, “...Father doesn't sound like the type to go around taking homes and families.”
“Are you from…Lendorr?” Lysander turned back to the mage, asking in a careful, uncertain tone.
Lendorr Kingdom. Zeke knew this name by heart due to its major role in Dungeon Regime's lore.
Once a large kingdom filled with prosperity, the distant emperors managed to integrate it into Oriens’ land. While many rebellions and assassins came from Lendorr, the emperors of those times only punished those responsible, and never the innocent.
However, during King Arzhel's rule, a massive dungeon break occurred in Lendorr. They sent soldiers to deal with the issue, but it became uncontrollable in just the mere minutes it took for their elite forces to get there.
Reluctantly, Arzhel ordered his trusted friend, Creston Salvador, to wipe out everything that the monsters touched, else the contamination from the dungeon could spread to other areas of the empire. For the better of the majority, the king made the difficult decision to cut off Lendorr completely, making it one of the worst catastrophes and tragedies known in Oriens history.
“...The king even issued that day to become a holiday so the people all over the empire could mourn the loss of those thousands that'd been sacrificed for the greater good.”
“...Yes,” the mage croaked, “I am one of the few survivors from Lendorr…We have been planning this for years…now we made the move to take our revenge.”
“I understand where you are coming from,” Lysander sighed, “But if you hold such a deep grudge. Why now? The destruction of Lendorr happened long before my father even got married.”
“That's the point,” The mage sneered, “He had no weakness back then, but now he does.”
“Still, you could've executed this plan after he got married or had his first child,” Lysander narrowed his eyes, “Why? There are holes in your story that I cannot understand.”
“He should still be scared of me,” Zeke tried to read the mage's expression, but saw nothing worth noting, “What is he trying to do? Buy time? That doesn't make sense…or is he just rambling on and on because he was in pain?”
“...” the Lendorrian turned towards Zeke. Even though his body quivered in fear, he still raised his head to make eye contact, revealing the pure black orbs beneath the hood. “...You can and will hurt me…however, there is nothing I fear more than that man. So…so please…even if you put me through hell, I cannot say anymore than I already have.”
“Someone he's more scared of than getting brutally tortured for information?” Zeke hid his surprise well beneath his mask of indifference. Letting out a long, disappointed sigh, he replied, “It's no matter anyway, you will be captured and interrogated either way. Lysander, if you please.”
At his words, Lysander smacked the mage at the back of his head with the sword's guard, knocking him out instantly. His unconscious body slumped forward, though still held up by the near invisible threads.
Zeke let the man down and tied up his limbs with the strings. Soon, the silence between them broke as Lysander spoke, “...Do you want to talk about how you lied to everyone?” Not a single emotion shown in his voice, “What exactly happened in that dungeon, Silas?”
“Same details,” Zeke replied nonchalantly as he took the lead, turning right as the mage had said and began walking towards the end of the tunnel, “Only difference is that I'm the mage and Lady Ruelle was the swordsman. She's way better than me.”
“Ah huh.”
Zeke didn't turn back as he asked, “...Will you tell Father?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
A moment of silence, “Do you want me to?”
“No.” His reply came instantaneously.
“Then I won't utter a word…even if it might get me in trouble later,” Lysander let out a chuckle, “Whenever you're ready to tell the truth, go for it, I may or may not defend you depending on Father's mood.”
Hearing the all-serious Lysander make a joke earned a joyful laughter from Zeke, “Thanks bro.”
The choice of words may have startled Lysander, but he composed himself not long after, “You're welcome.” Despite walking at the front, Zeke could practically hear the smile from the brother's voice.