Chapter 184 - 184: Interrogating Classmates
The Vanguard army spent the rest of the day marching out of the western valleys and back toward the captured eastern ports. The massive ironclads still sat anchored in the harbor, their dark metal hulls a comforting sight for the returning troops.
In the center of the marching column, a reinforced wooden prison wagon rattled over the cobblestone roads. General Boros sat slumped in the corner, clutching his bandaged hand to his chest. The general looked up as the heavy iron doors swung open.
Two Vanguard Troglodytes roughly shoved Jason and Chloe into the back of the wagon before locking the doors from the outside.
Boros stared in absolute disbelief. He recognized the two youths immediately. They were supposed to be the divine saviors of the Fourth Continent, wielding the absolute power of the gods to crush Aethelgard's enemies.
Now, they were covered in dirt, weeping openly, and chained together like common thieves.
"By the gods..." Boros muttered, his face turning entirely pale. "They captured the Heralds."
Chloe buried her face in her knees and sobbed. Jason just stared at the wooden floorboards, completely hollowed out by the agonizing loss of his stolen power. Seeing the invincible weapons of his King reduced to this pathetic state entirely broke Boros's remaining fighting spirit.
If the mercenaries could crush the Heralds, the Fourth Continent had absolutely no hope of winning this war.
The wagon rolled into the shipyard's massive central warehouse. Apostle Lucian and Envoy Cassian stood by the stone command table, reviewing troop logistics. They looked up as Iron-Scale and Syra marched into the room, followed closely by Vanguard guards dragging the three prisoners.
"You returned early," Lucian noted, his armored boots clanking as he stepped forward. He looked at Boros, then squinted at the two new humans. "Who are these children?"
"They are our new maps," Syra stated plainly.
She gestured to her Troglodyte guards. They dragged Boros, Jason, and Chloe over to a row of heavy wooden chairs and chained them securely to the floor. Syra pulled her leather diary from her robes, grabbed her quill, and dragged a stool over to sit directly in front of the prisoners.
"There are no Apostle rules protecting you two," Syra said to Jason and Chloe, her slitted black eyes devoid of any mercy. "You are not military officers. You are not recognized combatants. And unlike the general here, you no longer have any magical power to protect your minds."
Syra tapped her quill against the blank parchment.
"Let us start with the basics," she commanded. "Give me the names and exact geographical coordinates of the other thirteen pairs."
Jason swallowed hard. He looked at the surrounding Vanguard commanders, his chest heaving with panicked breaths. He tried desperately to muster a fraction of his old earthly arrogance to mask his terror.
"They... they are all stationed at the capital," Jason lied, his voice trembling slightly. "Inside the inner sanctum. King Voranthar has them guarded by fifty thousand elite knights and warding spells. You'll never even get close to them."
Syra did not write a single word. She just stared at him with her cold, unblinking black eyes.
Hawl cracked his knuckles and stepped forward from the shadows of the warehouse. "He's lying. His breathing is shallow, and his eyes immediately darted to the floorboards."
"Demonstrate our interrogation techniques, Hawl," Syra instructed calmly.
Hawl didn't draw a blade or fetch a specialized alchemical tool. He simply grabbed Jason by the hair, yanked his head back to expose his torso, and drove a heavy, armored knee directly into Jason's side.
The satisfying crunch of breaking ribs echoed loudly in the quiet warehouse.
Jason collapsed forward against his iron chains, violently coughing up spit and wheezing in sheer, breathless agony. It was the first time in years he had felt genuine, unfiltered physical trauma without a magical barrier to protect him.
General Boros flinched violently in his chair. He had endured his own torture with grim defiance, but watching the "divine" Herald of Aethelgard reduced to a weeping, fragile boy entirely shattered his worldview.
"Stop!" Boros yelled out, pure panic finally bleeding into his hardened voice. "Look at them! They are practically children without their magic! They don't know the broader military deployments!"
"He's right! He's right, please!" Chloe shrieked.
The sight of Jason coughing on the floor completely broke whatever tiny sliver of resolve she had left. Tears streamed down her face, ruining her pristine appearance entirely. She strained against her heavy iron cuffs, her eyes wide with absolute terror.
"Please! Don't let him hit us!" Chloe sobbed hysterically. "We genuinely don't know where the others are!"
Syra raised a single finger, signaling Hawl to step back. "Explain yourself. You are their peers."
"King Voranthar kept everything a secret from us!" Chloe babbled quickly, desperate to offer anything of value. "We were just his weapons! He never told us where the other pairs were stationed. He kept us completely isolated from the rest of the class so we couldn't gang up or form our own plans. We just sat in the palace in luxury until he pointed us at a target and told us to destroy it!"
Syra frowned. 'A logical precaution for a seemingly mortal king attempting to control a stockpile of divine weapons,' she analyzed silently.
"I swear on my life!" Chloe cried out. "We only followed our specific orders! But... but I know about Chris! Chris Pitt and Megan!"
Syra lowered her quill to the parchment. "Go on."
"They aren't on the continent anymore," Chloe confessed, her words spilling out in a frantic rush. "The King sent them to the Third Continent a few months ago. They were tasked with breaking the border defenses and conquering the eastern provinces over there. That's all I know! I swear to you, that's everything!"
Syra finished jotting down the names and the location. She closed her leather diary with a soft thud. The intelligence was incomplete, but it gave the Vanguard their first tangible leads in the Sovereign's new hunt.
Apostle Lucian crossed his arms, his face pale as he processed the interrogation. "If King Voranthar has sent these 'Heralds' to the Third Continent, it means he is fighting a multi-front war. And it means this conflict is far larger than a simple border dispute."