Chapter 28: The Time Is Ripe – Part 1

Bazel lost, but he still displayed a composure and calmness that surpassed that of a noble.
At least, that was the case at first.
Bazel said to Neo, “I may have lost, but you haven’t won, nor can you win. The outcome of this confrontation was determined from the moment it took shape. Anyone who tries to stand in its way and change anything is merely overestimating their own strength.”
Neo ignored Bazel, whose expression was even more triumphant than his own as the winner, and turned instead to the grim-faced Green and his companions. “I’ll leave the outside matters to you. I’d like to talk to Mr. Bieber alone.”
Hearing this, even if Green and the others were inexperienced, they understood that Neo meant he was willing to resort to torture to obtain enough information from Bazel.
Torture isn’t just associated with violence and suffering—it’s also a dirty job. In Green’s eyes, Neo taking on this task without involving them wasn’t out of a desire to hide something or to avoid showing a cruel side in front of them, but rather out of consideration for them. For mages devoted to magic research, there are certain messes they prefer to avoid—not only because of their impact on their mental state but also because such matters are too complicated and could become obstacles in the future. Who has the mood or energy to delve deeply into them?
Green nodded slightly and spoke on behalf of his companions, “Then we’ll leave it to you. Don’t worry about the outside matters.” Without further delay, he and the others left.
Neo didn’t rush to act. He remained seated on the rough wooden stool across from Bazel. His massive frame made the stool, which seemed sturdy enough for ordinary people, look pitiful. Faced with such a towering presence, Bazel couldn’t help but feel somewhat fragile, as if he had turned into a thin chick.
Fear, tension… Bazel knew the man across from him was by no means an honest or kind person. That eagle- and wolf-like gaze, that indifferent expression that was neither cruel nor fanatical—Bazel had only seen it in top-tier veterans of battle. Such people, having experienced too much killing and bloodshed, had become numb. Bazel had even seen one of them watching bloody torture while enjoying a dish of stewed tomatoes…
“Any long-standing non-peaceful organization has powerful violent agencies within it. I’ve known since the beginning that the Celestial Temple is good at gathering information. It’s just…” Bazel smiled here and didn’t continue.
Neo finished Bazel’s sentence, “It’s just that such people are usually veterans who have served the organization for years, seasoned in battle, and perhaps even with some minor disabilities…” Neo also smiled as he spoke. “A newcomer, even if his father is an organization member and suffers from some battle-related psychological issues and wants his son to follow in his footsteps, has no reason to teach him this.”
“So, you admit you’re not Simon Windwalker?”

Neo stood up and said calmly, “I am Simon Windwalker. It’s just that people like you will never understand the tumultuous experiences of those who start out badly but still strive to rise above.” With that, he shifted the topic and added, “Time is precious. Perhaps your accomplices are still waiting for news that everything here is going well. So let’s get down to business. There are no proper torture devices in these desolate lands, so we’ll have to make do with what we have.”

Neo’s dark humor made Bazel’s heart tighten. He had seen torture since he was a boy, but being the one on the receiving end was the first time in his life. Setting aside feelings of shame, anger, and other complex emotions, Bazel had an instinctive fear of pain and suffering—especially when faced with a torturer like Neo, whom he considered an expert in this field.

Calmness and composure seemed insufficient to solve this problem. Bazel felt his mouth dry and his heart pounding. He knew he needed resilience, but he wasn’t sure how strong his resilience was or how well he could endure pain. After all, such abilities were rarely tested. Moreover, since childhood, Bazel had rarely thought about what to do if he lost—especially when he lost so completely that his life was in someone else’s hands.

Seeing that Neo was focused on preparing the tools and seemed unwilling to ask any questions, Bazel couldn’t help but say, “You haven’t even asked. How can you start torturing me? How do you know I won’t cooperate?”

“Asking first and then torturing is pretty much the same as torturing first and then asking. I’m in a hurry,” Neo replied.

Furious, Bazel laughed bitterly. “Do you want to hear the truth? Or do you want to hear what you want to hear?”

It had to be said that Bazel’s point was indeed important in torture situations. After all, the goal wasn’t to force confessions through pain. Giving in under torture and admitting he was different—born of a father rather than a mother—was not in line with the purpose of torture.

Then Neo grabbed a scalpel and grinned at Bazel. “You so-called revolutionaries and rebels have mental issues. Uh… that’s not quite accurate. It should be said that you have an overly idealized understanding of the cruel aspects of ‘revolution.’ You only think about using any means against your enemies, while expecting your enemies to follow rules—like treaties for prisoners or ransom for defeats. Right, a ‘civilized’ war.”

Hearing Neo say this, Bazel felt a chill in his heart. Sure enough, Neo continued, “I’m also a revolutionary. Our goal is the same: to replace the old regime with a new one.”

By now, Neo was standing in front of Bazel, his teeth gleaming white and his smile radiant. “The difference is, people like you just want to change the person sitting on the throne. While someone like me wants to overthrow everything completely.” With that, Neo flipped his palm forcefully. “So… whether you’re willing to cooperate isn’t the point. The point is, I want you to experience the cruelty of ‘revolution’—no rules, no reason. I just want you to suffer, to be brought to your knees!”

Of course, in reality, this was just Neo’s excuse. The reason was that Neo didn’t believe Bazel would tell the truth—without a single lie, no matter if tortured or not. Just as Bazel and his group failed because of a lie at a critical moment, such a lie could very likely lead to Neo’s subsequent actions failing, so Neo naturally took it as a lesson. Thus, all these methods served one purpose: to break Bazel’s will.

Unfortunately, Bazel wasn’t a strong person, especially far from as strong as he imagined himself to be. This also owed much to Neo’s verbal tactics and skillful techniques. With Nancy’s help in understanding human anatomy, if Neo had put in the effort, he would surely have been able to become one of Emmera’s top torturers by the age of 25. Under this quasi-expert’s torment, Bazel eventually cried like a woman, and his memories were completely copied by Nancy without reservation.

Over an hour had passed; it was nearly 9 p.m. Outside, whether it was Neo’s side or Bazel’s side, everyone had recovered from their weakened state. Strong drugs had short-lasting effects, and most potions fell within this category.

A hundred prisoners, each strong and lacking proper restraints, posed a huge burden on Star 745’s soldiers. But Neo had already made arrangements. He ordered that the prisoners have their arm bones broken and jaws removed, then their hands tied but feet untied. They were then hung upside down in pairs on either side of the wall in a way that exhausted them greatly. This created a group of unfortunate people who couldn’t help drooling, forced to make their opponents suffer more just to feel a little better. Their clothes were taken off except for their pants, and their bare feet were covered in broken bricks and debris from leveling the ground during the day. Every half hour, someone would come to water them to cool them down. As a result, not only did they lose heat rapidly, but it was also difficult for them to even take a nap.

In a few hours, their strength would be exhausted. Even if they wanted to rebel or escape, they would lack the will. As for what happened afterward, it wasn’t necessary to torture them further. Abusing prisoners also included giving them meager food or no food at all. It wasn’t out of reluctance to share food, but without food, there was no strength, and without strength, they basically lost the means to resist. For longer-term imprisonment, they could be forced into hard labor, exhausting themselves every day, making resistance even less likely. After a few years, their bodies would break down and their fighting spirit would be worn away, rendering them essentially useless. This was generally how prisoners were dealt with.

Green and the others, along with Zankin and the rest, saw Neo again around 10 p.m. By then, all matters outside had been properly handled.

Green and the others arrived first. Seeing Hes looking at him strangely, Neo casually asked, “What’s wrong?”

Hes shrugged. “I really don’t know what kind of ideas you’ve instilled in those soldiers. Not only do they have no complaints, but they also praise you. I can tell they’re speaking from the heart.”

As Neo gestured for everyone to sit down, he said with a hint of reflection, “As the saying goes, poverty shrinks one’s ambitions, just as a thin horse has long hair. Imagine—would giving the same bag of slightly moldy old wheat to outcasts and to free people yield the same result? Though the poor aren’t devoid of pride, they’re more willing to endure and have a sense of comparison. The soldiers of Star 745 were once the leftovers; they saw and heard about the various fates of those who, at the same time as them, were assigned better positions and envied by them. Although building one’s happiness on the misfortune of others isn’t something to boast about, in this group, they found strength, glory, money, and perhaps even a glimmer of hope related to their dreams. Until that sense of satisfaction fades, they are tolerant of me.”

Ni said jokingly, “It’s full of a sense of transaction—very businesslike, very Frey!”

Neo nodded. “Thank you, Miss Ni, for your insightful comment. Being a merchant was indeed the career my father initially planned for me. Perhaps he felt it too deeply because his poor financial management left him in economic hardship for most of his later life.”

“This is the first time I’ve heard you mention Lord Matia,” Elan asked casually, though with deeper meaning. Among the five members of the mage group, her background was the most complex. Strictly speaking, she could no longer be considered a pure mage—she was too deeply involved in the secular world.

The Elemental Tower wasn’t just a simple mage organization, and Elan was a member of its secret faction, the Night Owls.

In fact, any organizational structure that grows to a certain scale and has a certain history can’t be simple. These organizations and factions, whether hawkish or dovish, strive to extend their influence to all layers of society, sensing the pulse of civilization and the times as a basis for adjusting and adapting.

At first, Elan hadn’t paid much attention to Simon Windwalker, but now she believed he fully met the criteria for the organization to observe closely. Elan clearly remembered a ‘hidden danger’ related to Simon Windwalker. Just before his battle against the powerful Revenge Demon, that high-ranking black magician had mentioned the death of his father, Matia.

It wasn’t a secret that Matia died in a humiliating manner. It was also well-known that Matia was straightforward in nature and had offended many of his colleagues. Under such circumstances, it wasn’t strange at all that there were secrets behind Matia’s death. So what was Simon Windwalker’s attitude toward this matter?

Once, this man might have been insignificant, making the issue seem unimportant. But now, especially after tonight, Elan had no idea what miracles this young yet intimidating upstart could still pull off. Yet just by capturing Bazel and his famous Owl Squad, he had become deeply involved in the major events unfolding in Silvanis, becoming an indispensable part of them. Elan even thought he might well turn out to be a crucial variable affecting the outcome. Under such circumstances, Simon’s attitude toward Matia’s death became extremely important, as it directly affected his relations with the Temple of the Sky and the ruling council led by Count Bishop. After all, the latter two had always maintained close ties with the Elemental Tower.

At the same time, Nio also keenly realized this was a good opportunity to reveal some information. “My father was also my closest life mentor. I was reluctant to talk about him, as it always gave me the urge to put everything aside and uncover some mysteries. But now I’ve thought it through. When the time is right, the truth will surface, and what needs to be resolved will eventually be resolved.”

“The time is right…” It wasn’t just Elan who pondered these words silently. Everyone present knew what “the time is right” meant—power, status, reputation, influence. When these reached a certain level, those organizations and forces would naturally take a stance. And truths that might have taken a lifetime to uncover if one had nothing to offer, along with satisfying resolutions, would also become “miraculously” clear and happen. Green and the others now had no doubts about Simon Windwalker’s ability to reach such heights.