Ch.769How to Bind Prisoners

I tapped Macaoros’s scales with Durandal’s blade and demanded he prove his worth if he wanted to live.

He was too dangerous to leave alone, and if he had no use, there was no reason to keep him alive.

Wouldn’t a neatly stacked pile of scales be much easier to manage than a prisoner who breathes fire, flies around, and uses magic?

“Tell me, elegant pink lizard. Why should I let you live?”

“Hmm…”

Macaoros glanced at the cold blade hovering over his neck, twitched the corner of his eye, and opened his mouth.

“That question itself lacks elegance. Attempting to cruelly murder a prisoner who offers no resistance—how barbaric.”

…Should I just kill this bastard?

My fingers tightened around the hilt.

I began rubbing the blade back and forth against his scales, carving marks into them. Fragments of scales scattered like dust with a grating sound.

“…I’ll give you ten seconds. If you can’t convince me in ten seconds, tonight’s dinner will be sliced lizard roast.”

Probably tastes like chicken.

“Let’s begin. Ten. Nine. Five. Three…”

“Wait, wait! That was a joke. Just a light joke.”

“Two…”

“Aren’t you curious about the Dragon Kingdom’s secrets?!”

As the blade literally began cutting into his neck, Macaoros abandoned his slippery manner of speaking and shouted with urgency.

Indeed, for smooth conversation, one needs to apply some lubricant. Red, warm lubricant.

“Such as?”

I asked while slightly withdrawing Durandal, which had begun to dig into his flesh. My tone suggested I doubted someone like him would know any state secrets that might interest me.

“Oh, many things. Like how the King of Jin is actually our backer… or what those Jeongpa bastards are hiding beneath their headquarters… or how the Sky Demon’s advisor is actually human…”

…Those were indeed interesting pieces of information. Ear-perking, even.

“Wait, wait a minute. The Sky Demon—you’re saying this lizard who calls himself the Sky Demon has a human subordinate?”

I asked about the last bit of confidential information Macaoros had blurted out while sheathing Durandal after wiping off the blood.

A human working as a close aide to the leader of a military group that effectively divides the Dragon Kingdom? I couldn’t be certain, but this seemed like…

…an Apostle?

No, really. It seems unlikely, but… you never know.

Isn’t that the specialty of those who operate in the shadows? Infiltrating large organizations and manipulating their leaders according to their own agenda.

“What kind of person is this human?”

It wouldn’t hurt to hear more details.

“Interested, are you? How unfortunate.”

However, instead of explaining, Macaoros shook his head with a smile like someone looking at a fish caught on a hook.

“I can’t tell you with just my bare mouth.”

“What?”

I let out a scoffing laugh and twitched my eyebrow.

He can’t tell me with his bare mouth?

Huh, seriously. He’s not a game company selling the ending as DLC. What’s this bastard trying to do?

The moment I put away my sword, he starts slithering around again. I thought I’d sprayed enough lubricant, but was the blood not enough?

“Pink-headed bastard, don’t you understand the situation? You’re a prisoner. A prisoner. Where do you get off trying to negotiate?”

I growled, gripping the sword hilt again.

“Easy, easy, don’t get angry. I need to survive too, don’t I? You might cut off my head right after hearing the information, so I can’t reveal everything I know.”

Macaoros hastily explained. If he told everything he knew, he’d be crushed like an empty can the moment he was no longer useful.

Come to think of it, if I were in his position, I’d have the same concerns.

Understanding his worry, instead of swinging my sword, I tried to reassure him with persuasive words.

“Don’t worry about that. If you cooperate obediently, you won’t have to worry about your life for the rest of your days. I’m the Saint of Astraea, you know? Can’t you trust someone like me?”

“There’s a limit to shamelessness—would you believe yourself if you were me?”

…That didn’t work very well.

—-

Macaoros stubbornly insisted that no matter what torture was applied, he couldn’t open his mouth like some captured demon lord. Without techniques to increase his sensitivity 3000-fold, I had no choice but to accept his conditions and seek compromise.

His condition was simple and clear.

Until the Empire accepted his asylum and declared him an official Imperial citizen, he wouldn’t reveal any information.

He probably figured that once recognized as an Imperial citizen protected by Imperial law, I couldn’t cut his throat without proper justification.

He seemed to have thought it through… but would it really work out as he expected?

I didn’t think so.

…Well, there was no need to enlighten him.

That his next destination wouldn’t be Extrashafel Island, but the underground interrogation chamber of Faelrun Castle.

“Fine, I’ll grant you that much. However…”

“However…?”

“Just as you don’t trust me, I don’t trust you, and I can’t just leave you unrestrained. So I’ll need to keep you bound for the time being. You understand that much, right?”

“Ah, yes. Handcuffs, shackles, whatever you like.”

Macaoros nodded readily to my request to restrain him, as if he would accept that much without complaint.

“Good, I’m glad you agree so willingly.”

If I had his consent, there was no need to hesitate.

I grabbed Macaoros’s arms, which he had extended as if expecting handcuffs—

—CRACK!

“ARRRGH!”

—and dislocated three joints each.

Handcuffs and shackles? Trying to be clever until the end. A creature like him could probably break such things with a simple flex of his muscles.

I never intended to restrain him with such lukewarm tools.

“Urrrgh… what are you… doing…?”

“Stop whining, you big baby. Spread your legs. I need to crush your lower body too.”

I kicked down Macaoros, who was groaning with his broken arms hanging limply, and grabbed his flailing legs to methodically crush the bones there as well.

“Urrrgh…! If you think… torture will make me talk… that’s a big mistake—”

“This isn’t torture.”

Calling it torture just because I broke some bones—what paranoia.

This isn’t torture, it’s merely a restraint procedure. Remember this. The safest way to restrain a dangerous individual with superhuman strength isn’t to put them in shackles, but to shatter their limbs.

Actually, cutting them off would be safest, but in this cold place without healing potions, removing limbs would be less restraint and more like a slow execution.

“Asha! Are you listening? Bring me the oil pouch!”

“Yes! Here it is, Haschal!”

Asha, who had been warming herself by the fire in the temporary camp, ran over with a leather pouch full of oil.

“Which part should we burn first? The face?”

No, what are you talking about burning? This isn’t torture, I said! It’s just a legitimate restraint procedure.

“That’s not it. I think we need to gag him to properly restrain him.”

“Wait! What are you trying to do…!”

“Yes, yes, keep your mouth open like that.”

I grabbed Macaoros’s upper and lower jaws and pried them apart, then signaled Asha to stuff the oil pouch into his mouth.

“Ah, to prevent him from breathing fire, right?”

Asha, understanding my intention, tied the opening of the oil pouch tightly and shoved it deep into Macaoros’s throat.

“Urgh! URGH!”

Macaoros bulged his eyes and struggled as the leather pouch the size of two fists was forced deep into his throat, but his limbs had long been shattered beyond use for any resistance.

Even if he tried to close his mouth to bite Asha’s hand, I was holding his jaws open, making it impossible.

“Stay still. I’m just pushing something into your throat. If you try to breathe fire, your insides will cook first.”

Being able to breathe fire doesn’t mean being immune to it. If the oil pouch caught fire and burning oil flowed down his esophagus into his stomach, even a dragonborn wouldn’t survive.

“URRRGH!”

“It’s all in, Haschal!”

“Good job. Now stuff in whatever cloth we have, and finish by welding his mouth shut.”

Like fitting a steel muzzle to prevent him from spitting out the oil pouch.

Even if a dragonborn could break metal shackles with arm strength alone, he couldn’t break a steel muzzle with jaw-opening strength. These half-reptile bastards have strong biting force but laughably weak opening strength.

“Yes!”

Asha, looking inexplicably excited, brought an armful of broken machine fragments and began hammering beside me, creating an impromptu anvil. She melted the metal using the heat from the fire I had built.

Ten minutes later, a completely neutralized Macaoros rolled his eyes and passed out.

Shattered limbs, severed and cauterized tail, plucked wing membranes, and a metal muzzle encasing his entire mouth. This should have completely sealed off any means of physical resistance.

Of course, the possibility of magical resistance remained…

“Leave that to me.”

Ophelia confidently stepped forward, carving strange symbols all over his chest with a heated awl and embedding a mana stone she had somehow acquired.

If he tried to gather mana to use magic, his heart would explode from the very mana he collected. It was an impressively effective binding spell.

Apparently, the process of carving the formula was so intricate that it could only be used on completely subdued opponents.

Thanks to this, he became a perfectly disabled dragonborn, unable to move, breathe fire, or gather mana, and was dumped in a corner of the tent. It was an ugly, miserable appearance with no trace of the elegance he had boasted.

He should have trusted me completely.