Chapter 112: The Hidden Mastermind
**Thelma Zane’s POV:**
After calming down the enraged Southern Duke, my father turned his attention back to the witch. His voice was steady but carried an undertone of authority as he said, “Now, let us cut to the heart of the matter. You will explain everything.
The witch, her lips curling into a sneer, replied, “Explain what? I already told you–I acted on a whim. I simply wanted to experience the life of a noble lady. Nothing more.
you persist with this attitude,” my father said, his voice growing sterner, “then I’ll have no choice but to resort to less pleasant methods. You seem well–acquainted with the war that transpired decades ago, so you must be aware of the interrogation techniques we employed on the battlefield. Call them barbaric if you will, but they were effective. I am not above using them.“”
For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed the witch’s face. Her earlier confidence wavered as she shouted, “You wouldn’t dare! If you harm me, my lord–my master–will make you regret it. Do you seek to ignite a second war between the werewolves and witches?”
My father’s expression remained unyielding. “The war was not of my making,” he replied calmly. “You are the one who trespassed into our domain, sowing discord and chaos. I have. every right to respond. Even the darkest forces you serve cannot argue against the will of the Moon Goddess.”
At last, the witch relented, though her compliance was laced with bitterness. “Fine,” she muttered through gritted teeth. “My name is Adele. I am a wandering witch, unattached to any coven. Don’t waste your efforts trying to find my clan–I left them long ago.
“Is that so?” my father remarked, his tone neutral yet skeptical. “Continue, Adele. Tell me, who ordered you to act against the werewolves?”
“I’ve told you already,” she snapped, her voice rising. “Everything was my idea. No one instructed me. I acted alone because I detest your kind. Is that so difficult to believe?”
Duke Walter, who had been observing silently, stepped forward with a low growl. “You’d better tell the truth,” he warned. “Or shall we demonstrate just how persuasive werewolves can be? I’ve broken far tougher opponents than you. Even the most devout servants of darkness cannot withstand our methods. Shall we put that to the test?”
Adele’s defiance faltered, but she clung to her story. “I’m telling the truth! What more do you want from me? Are you fabricating some mythical mastermind just to justify starting another War?”
My father leaned forward slightly, his piercing gaze fixed on her. “Your performance is commendable, but it does not conceal your guilt. Why are you so adamant in denying external
TO EMUA 112. Metodden Master and
involvement? Is it because no one commanded you, or is it because you defied your master’s orders? Are you terrified of the consequences should your disobedience come to light?”
The color drained from Adele’s face. She looked at my father as though he were a mind reader, her body trembling with fear. It was as if he had peeled away every layer of her facade, leaving her exposed and vulnerable.
“There’s no such person,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “You’re twisting my words! Everything I did the kidnapping of the noble girl, the attack on Sivir Academy–was my plan. I only wanted to see your kind suffer. Watching you creatures in human skin squirm in pain brings me joy!”
Adele burst into laughter, though it sounded more desperate than triumphant.
My father, unfazed, shook his head. “It is becoming increasingly clear,” he said, “that you are protecting someone. You would rather endure any punishment we inflict than reveal their identity. This fear you harbor–it speaks volumes. Whoever controls you must wield a power so immense, you believe their retribution would be far worse than anything we could do to
you.
At these words, Adele’s composure shattered. She began to tremble uncontrollably, her pupils dilating in terror. Her lips moved soundlessly before she finally cried out, “No! No, I was wrong! It’s all my fault! Please, forgive me! Master, don’t punish me–please!”
Her screams escalated into a frenzied wail before she collapsed into unconsciousness.
The hall fell silent, the echoes of her outburst lingering like a ghostly presence. One of the guards stepped forward and knelt to check her condition. “Your Majesty,” he said, looking up at my father, “she has fainted.”
No one had anticipated such a bizarre turn of events. The witch, who had resisted all interrogation, had succumbed not to external torture but to the horrors of her own imagination.
“Wake her up,” my father ordered, his tone calm but resolute.
The guards tried splashing water on Adele and calling her name, but she remained unresponsive. It became evident that some form of magic was at play
Realizing the situation required specialized knowledge, my father summoned Master Mary, a renowned werewolf healer and magical expert. Within minutes, a tall, dignified woman with a bandaged arm entered the hall. She bowed respectfully before examining Adele.
After a thorough inspection, Master Mary turned to my father and said, “She is protected by at self–activated spell. This enchantment triggers when she experiences extreme distress, plunging her into unconsciousness as a defense mechanism. Forcing her awake prematurely would cause severe harm to her brain. The spell will wear off on its own in time.”
“Thank you, Mary,” my father said, nodding. He gestured for the guards to escort her back to
Choups 112 The Hulden Mastermind.
her quarters for rest.
With Adele incapacitated, the interrogation had to be temporarily suspended. The elders, whose presence had proven largely ceremonial, excused themselves from the proceedings. Meanwhile, the Southern Duke and Duke Walter opted to remain at the palace, determined to continue the questioning as soon as Adele regained consciousness.
Following behind my mother, I finally seized the opportunity to ask, “Where is Aldrich? Why hasn’t he been here?”
My mother glanced at me and replied, “Sir Aldrich has been dispatched to oversee the situation at the light cocoon. It is far too volatile to leave unattended. He is ensuring it does not escalate into an even greate
threat.”
Her explanation offered some reassurance, but it also added to the unease brewing within me. Between the enigma of the light cocoon and the ominous hints surrounding Adele’s
mysterious master, it felt as though we were teetering on the edge of something far larger and more dangerous than we could comprehend.
Chapter 113 The Iye ukunga
