Chapter 013: Interrogation 2

Casimir looked up at Du Fan, his eyes flickering. After a moment, he spoke in a low voice, “Didn’t I say before? Our Snow Fox Mercenary Group came to the Northern Ice Plains this time to make a fortune. You see, at this time of year, not only are magic stones expensive, but the furs of magical beasts are also very valuable. If we’re lucky, one trip here could ensure us a comfortable life for years.”
Du Fan nodded indifferently and said, “That’s indeed a solid reason. But there’s one thing I don’t understand. If it’s purely for money, why not hunt the Ice Wolf Pack in the outer areas? With your strength, dealing with those wolves might be tough, but it’s still better than wandering around here, right? Besides, if I remember correctly, even if there are magical beasts in this area, it’s not something your small mercenary group of dozens can handle, is it?”
Casimir’s expression turned grim, but he quickly forced a smile and said, “My lord, I guess you don’t know much about the Northern Ice Plains. Although Ice Wolf Packs are easy to deal with, they always hunt in groups. With our Snow Fox Mercenary Group’s strength, facing such a pack would only leave us with no choice but to flee. That’s why we had to target the interior of these plains… I never expected… the magical beasts here to be so fierce. One attack almost wiped out our entire group… In the end, I was foolish enough to target you, my lord… I truly deserve death!!!”
Du Fan looked at Casimir with a half-smile, scanning his body before suddenly turning around and saying, “Ferei, I seem to recall you mentioning that before joining the Temple Knights, you also worked as a mercenary for a few years. You must know something about unorthodox combat techniques, right?”
Ferei couldn’t tell what the white-robed priest was thinking, but he didn’t dare hide anything either. He nodded and said, “I don’t know much about other things, but I do know a bit about interrogation methods.”
Du Fan nodded with a smile and said, “Good. Then please show this Mr. Casimir a few techniques as a pre-dinner treat. People these days never cry until they see the coffin, never give up until they reach the end. They all think they’re so smart—do they really think I, Du Fan, was a fool back then?”

Feyre responded, sensing Du Fan’s faint anger. He hurried outside the tent and soon returned with a bucket of hot water. Under Du Fan’s watchful eye, he placed the bucket in front of Casimir, then took out a cowhide whip from his bosom, dipped it in the water for a moment, and then whipped Casimir fiercely.

The whip, soaked in water, became extremely moist, but in such weather, the water on the whip immediately turned into ice. This ice had an inexplicable stickiness; with each strike on Casimir, it tore off a piece of flesh. Under normal circumstances, Casimir would not have suffered much from such torment.

But at this moment, all of Casimir’s combat energy was sealed, and having never endured such suffering before, he let out a scream after just a few blows and collapsed unconscious.

Du Fan frowned at his bloody state and spat, “Wake him up and keep beating him.”

Feyre glanced at Casimir’s condition and hesitated for a moment before saying, “Lord Du Fan, if we keep beating him, he might die.”

Du Fan sneered and glanced at the three unconscious mercenaries on the ground. “What are you afraid of? If he dies, there are still three others we can torture slowly. Even if they all die in the end and we can’t get anything out of them, it doesn’t matter.”

Feyre shuddered. He didn’t know what exactly had angered this devout white-robed priest to such a degree, turning his usually kind heart into rage.

However, Feyre wasn’t a rigid person. Over the years, he had come to understand the so-called selective kindness of the Holy Church. He didn’t object much to Du Fan’s actions. He whipped Casimir again, using some skill and combat energy this time, striking him across the face. Casimir screamed and slowly regained consciousness.

Seeing this, Feyre raised the whip again, ready to strike, but Casimir spat out a mouthful of blood and shouted, “Lord Du Fan… What is this meant to achieve? I… I’ve already told you everything you wanted to know… But why treat me like this? If I offended you before, just kill me directly… Why use such cruel methods? Is this really what a follower of the Light God should do—watching others suffer?”

After being labeled as a follower of the God of Light, Du Fan didn’t know what to think, but his expression remained unchanged. He stroked the ring on his left hand and said softly, “Oh… Lord Casimir, are you planning to reason with me? Very well… If I don’t make you convinced, these whips will still make you think I’m cruel, right?”
Casimir glared at Du Fan without saying a word, his expression confirming Du Fan’s words.
Du Fan smiled faintly and said indifferently, “Let’s not discuss other things. Instead, let’s talk about the Snowfield Demonic Wolves. You say your Snowfox Mercenary Group can’t deal with them in groups, right?”
Casimir nodded. “That’s exactly right.”
Du Fan said coldly, “It’s a pity… Lord Casimir seems to have forgotten one thing. Although various demonic wolves on the Roland Continent tend to appear in groups, these Snowfield Demonic Wolves are used to being solitary, always appearing alone. Most people on the continent don’t know this, but after all these years in the north, if your Snowfox Mercenary Group still doesn’t know this, isn’t that too absurd?”
Casimir’s expression changed, and he couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know that?”
Du Fan smiled slightly and pointed to his forehead. “Books… knowledge… These are humanity’s most precious heritage over thousands of years. I haven’t achieved much in the first half of my life. The only thing I’ve done is to go through almost all the books in the Holy Church. Although I can’t say I’ve read hundreds of books, I should at least have some knowledge, right?”
Casimir let out a bitter laugh. “I see… I see… It seems I really underestimated you.”
Du Fan clapped his hands. “Well… Since you know you can’t deceive me, maybe you should tell me the purpose of your visit. Also, please don’t think of any stupid methods like threatening to die. There’s one thing I want you to understand: if I want to, I can make you confess everything willingly at any time. But that method is too boring, and most people under interrogation end up acting like fools. I rarely use it. So, think carefully about what to do. If you’re lucky, maybe I’ll keep your life out of sheer amusement…”

Casimir wasn’t stupid—he knew he had stumbled into the Holy See, and this time his life was beyond saving. Though he wanted to say nothing, he vaguely recalled some rumors about the Holy See’s internal structures. It was said that aside from the Templars, the Holy See harbored even more powerful forces: the Hidden Inquisition and the Prison of Divine Power, both of which held astonishing potential. Having spent so long in the mercenary world, he certainly wasn’t like an ordinary person who wouldn’t know what the Prison of Divine Power meant. Thinking of Du Fan pretending to be weak while actually being cunning and double-dealing, he immediately assumed Du Fan was part of that organization. Recalling the rumors about the Prison of Divine Power and Du Fan’s calm words earlier, Casimir felt a chill run from his head to his toes, almost to the point of urinating in his pants. But he still had some pride—he knew speaking now would mean death anyway, so he resolved to say nothing, gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes.

Ferey glanced at Du Fan, unsure what to do. Du Fan sneered and said, “It seems you’ve decided not to talk, huh? Well then, Ferey, take good care of Lord Casimir while I’m gone.” With that, Du Fan stepped out of the tent and stood silently at the entrance. In less than a moment, screams began to come from inside the tent. It was unclear what Ferey had done, but from Casimir’s increasingly weak voice, one could guess what was happening. Finally, Casimir let out a long scream before seemingly passing out.

Ferey lifted the tent flap and stepped out, saying, “Lord Du Fan, he still won’t say anything.” Du Fan responded with an “Oh,” glanced inside the tent, saw Casimir covered in blood, and smiled. “Ferey, it seems you’re not ruthless enough. Or maybe you’ve become too lenient since joining the Templars. You forgot that for someone like Casimir, torturing his body doesn’t work—true torture lies in tormenting his mind.” Ferey was stunned and replied after a moment, “How… how do we torture his mind? Please advise me, Lord Du Fan.” Du Fan entered the tent, looked around, and his gaze finally settled on the bucket of water about to freeze. Smiling, he pointed at it and said, “For now, just put his feet in the water.”