Chapter 118: The Second Interrogation.
**Thelma Zane’s POV**
“I should go and see her,” Dorothy said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m her only family left.”
I sighed, knowing this topic would weigh heavily on her heart. “But your grandmother’s mental state is still very unstable. Don’t you remember what the doctor said? She needs a completely neutral environment, far removed from her past, to recover. I know you’re worried about her, but it’s best to avoid visiting her for now.”
After Dorothy had moved to the palace, she’d visited her grandmother, who was undergoing intensive mental treatment. It had been a disaster.
The moment the frail old woman saw her granddaughter, it was as if an unearthly force had taken over her. She broke free from her caretakers with a strength that defied her fragile frame, grabbing anything within reach to hurl at Dorothy. The scene descended into chaos as the doctors and guards scrambled to restrain her. It took hours to calm her down.
The doctors had advised Dorothy to stay away until her grandmother showed signs of significant improvement. But I knew how much that visit had hurt Dorothy. Though she didn’t say a word about it, I heard her muffled sobs that night when I went to her room to invite her for dinner.
Dorothy had always seemed so strong, a pillar of resilience, but beneath that exterior was a soft heart. She longed for love and family, just like anyone else. Yet fate had dealt her a cruel hand, stripping away the happiness she deserved.
I couldn’t bear to see her so sorrowful. Hoping to lift her spirits, I changed the topic. ” Regardless of anything else, we need to visit the Rocky Mountains. This isn’t just for you, Dorothy. If we uncover the ruins of the witch clan, we could discover secrets even the sorcerers don’t know. This could be a pivotal moment for the werewolves to seize the initiative.”
Dorothy chuckled softly, though there was little humor in it. “Alright, girl. Don’t worry. I’ll set aside my personal burdens for the greater good of the werewolves.”
I stuck out my tongue in jest and replied, “Get some rest. I’ll discuss this with His Majesty.”
After leaving Dorothy’s room, I encountered Kara in the hallway. She approached me with at calm yet serious expression.
“His Majesty has
I you to
the town hall,” she informed me. “The second
interrogation of the witch is about to begin.”
The town hall was ablaze with light, the atmosphere tense as the night deepened.
Inside, the room was divided sharply along lines of loyalty. It seemed that the elders, after the morning’s debacle, had abandoned any pretense of unity. Their faces betrayed their true allegiances–some loyal, others harboring thoughts of rebellion.
The guards brought Adele forward. This time, she was bound securely to a chair, her body restrained by a powerful suppression spell.
“Quite the spectacle,” Adele sneered, her voice dopping with sarcasm. “Are you all so terrified of me? I look worse than a turkey prepared for roasting, don’t 17”
“It’s a necessary precaution,” Duke Frank replied, his tone calm and unbothered. “By order of His Majesty, the second interrogation will now commence,”
Master Mary stood nearby, her presence sharp and alert as she kept a close eye on Adele for any signs of unexpected behavior.
My father wasted no time, his tone firm and unyielding. “Adele, this is your final chance. Confess, and you may receive leniency. Resist, and you will face the full brunt of the truth- inspection curse. Trust me, the pain will pierce you to your very bones.”
Adele’s face twitched, and the veins on her forehead bulged as she deliberated. It was clear she was weighing the consequences of defying the curse against the risks of speaking the truth.
Finally, after a long pause, she spoke softly, “No one sent me to attack the Academy.”
The silence that followed was heavy. The lie detection spell remained inactive, confirming that Adele wasn’t lying. But the truth of her statement was questionable.
“Don’t try to twist your words,” my father said coldly. “Perhaps no one sent you to the Academy directly, but that doesn’t absolve you of acting on behalf of someone else. A partial truth is still a lie.”
At his signal, a guard stepped forward and struck Adele twice with a whip laced with holy water. Her anguished screams echoed through the hall.
I caught the faint golden glow of the whip–proof of the holy water’s sanctity. It was a rare weapon, likely procured through the werewolves‘ shadowy connections with the human church. The interrogation department certainly had its ways.
“Stop! Stop!” Adele screamed, writhing in her restraints as the suppression spell etched thin, bloody lines across her skin. “Take that cursed thing away! I’d rather endure branding irons than this!”
Holy water was especially effective against followers of Satan. After just two strikes, Adele’s defiance crumbled, and she became temporarily submissive.
My father leaned forward, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “Who is your master? Who ordered you to do this?”
Adele trembled under his gaze, the holy water’s threat breaking her resolve. At last, she
whispered, “My master… is a night magus named Kafka.”
The name barely left her lips before Adele let out a bloodcurdling scream. Blood poured from her eyes, ears, nose, and mouth as her body convulsed violently.
Everyone in the room froze in shock. Master Mary rushed forward, her face a mask of concern as she examined Adele. Frowning, she used her own blood to inscribe ancient runes across Adele’s forehead. The spell quieted the witch slightly, but her trembling and bleeding persisted.
As the hall buzzed with confusion, the southern Duke stepped forward. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a watch, from which he removed a hidden compartment.
Under the bright crystal chandeliers, I caught a glimpse of the item he held–a strand of crystalline white hair.
Master Mary’s expression shifted from confusion to astonishment as the Duke handed her the
hair.
“Use this,” the southern Duke said simply, his tone resolute.
His words hung in the air, heavy with implications we couldn’t yet grasp.
CHAUM: 119 Father guild Daughter
