Arc-7 Ch-26

 The body of the elf slung across my back felt heavy, and sweat began to bead on my forehead.

The distance itself was just barely manageable while carrying him, but transporting a limp body with its limbs bound is extremely difficult even for a seasoned soldier.

Hauling a relatively slender adult six separate times would be grueling labor that even airport workers would complain about. By the time I finally finished, my breathing had become noticeably ragged.

In total, ten elves had been gathered into a single room, and every one of them had sustained some kind of injury. Not a single individual remained unscathed.

Even with the orb’s invisibility, ambushing and subduing ten elves was exhausting work.

If killing them had been permitted, the task would’ve been far simpler, but considering what would come afterward, it was better to keep casualties to a minimum.

Even so, I was tired. I knew I should hurry, but I decided to rest briefly until my breathing steadied and the sweat dried.

Back when I was in my teens and serving in the kingdom’s army, I could complete march training with energy to spare even while carrying a pack loaded with weapons and rations that weighed as much as a child.

Now, in my thirties, simply carrying one adult back and forth across the room six times left me gasping for air.

There was undeniably some age-related decline but over the past few years I’d been buried in paperwork and meetings, rarely training properly with the Bartfort feudal forces or even turning the soil in my vegetable garden.

Occasionally, I cooperated with people in the capital or with the orb to complete missions, but I’d come to rely far too heavily on the lost item’s power.

Once this mission was over, I’d focus on my duties as a lord and work seriously on rebuilding my stamina. I didn’t want Angie or the children to see my body grow soft with fat and come to dislike me.

For now, I began wrapping the prepared rope around the elves.

The thieves, already bound hand and foot, writhed desperately, but they couldn’t offer any meaningful resistance. It didn’t take long to finish restraining them all.

Once the bindings were complete, I took out several items and hooked them onto the ropes. With that, the preparations were finished.

When everything was done and I stood to look down at them, several elves whose fighting spirit hadn’t yet broken glared up at me.

Why is it that people who openly stain their hands with crime wear expressions that scream, “The one who’s wrong is the other side,” and “I’m not the bad one”?

If they showed even a trace of remorse, I could afford to be a little gentler.

Well, fine. If that’s how you feel, then I’ll do as I please too.

“Now then. To the dishonorable criminal elves who crept in to attack nobles in their sleep, how are you feeling?”

“………………”

“Not even greeting someone you’re meeting for the first time? Your upbringing really shows. Well, never mind. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Leon Fou Bartfort, a noble granted the rank of earl and territory by the Holfort royal family.”

“…………”

“Or perhaps you’re more familiar with my other title. In the former Fanoss Duchy and other nations, I’m known by the derogatory nickname of the ‘villainous knight.’”

“…!”

Several of them blinked or twitched their long, pointed ears at the mention of the villainous knight.

It seemed my ill reputation had spread to some degree even among elves who looked down on humans.

Normally, such a reputation would be unpleasant, but when used properly, it became an effective weapon. At the very least, it was perfect for intimidation.

“I’d heard that elves were a beautiful, gentle, and sincere race, yet it appears those rumors were mistaken. You’ve fallen so low as to become thieves who break into inns to assault nobles.”

“…………”

Deliberately adopting exaggeratedly polite yet insolent gestures befitting a noble, I provoked the elves. Arrogant types were the most susceptible to this approach.

Especially since, before the war, many elves had served Holfort Kingdom nobles as exclusive attendants, even while secretly despising their employers.

By speaking in a way that seemed to mock them, I dredged up memories of that past and unsettled their minds.

Interrogation is about shaking the opponent, forcing emotions and words to spill out. Once that happens, information flows more easily.

“I’ll make this clear from the start. I’ve already grasped the inner workings of this Elf Village. You’d be wise not to think you can deceive this villainous knight.”

“…………”

“Silence will be taken as affirmation. If you speak honestly, you can avoid unnecessary pain. If you’d rather suffer for a long time, that’s your choice.”

“…!”

“Oh, and by the way, feel free to check what’s hanging around your necks.”

At my prompting, the elves reluctantly turned their eyes toward one another, their displeasure plain.

Ropes were looped around their necks like dog collars, from which metallic cylinders dangled like ornaments.

Each was small enough to fit in the palm of a hand. The ten metal cylinders caught the room’s light and reflected a dull gleam that stung the eyes.

To elves who hadn’t participated in the war, these objects would’ve been completely unfamiliar.

“What’s hanging around your necks, gentlemen, are small hand grenades. Given their size, the amount of gunpowder inside isn’t impressive. Even if they explode, the most they could do is maim a human body, so you can rest easy.”

“Wha…!?”

“Ah, it’d be best not to move carelessly. Once the safety pin is pulled, they’ll go boom in less than ten seconds.”

“Hii!”

“However, I don’t wish to soil this room with the filthy flesh and blood of lowly thieves. Your unclean blood would only devalue the carpet on this floor to the point that it wouldn’t fetch even a single dir.”

“You…!”

“I’d rather you not force me into unnecessary trouble. Do you understand that the long yet filthy lifespan of an elf is worth less than a few seconds in the eyes of a noble of the esteemed Holfort Kingdom?”

The initial threats and provocation appeared to have worked. The near absence of military-affiliated elves within the Holfort Kingdom had also played to my advantage.

Incidentally, what hung from their necks were not hand grenades, but non-lethal devices such as flashbangs or stun grenades.

Even if the safety pins were pulled, death would be virtually impossible. They wouldn’t kill, though blinding or rupturing eardrums would be a small bonus.

For the elves, who had no way of knowing that, the belief that bombs were dangling from their necks made rational judgment nearly impossible. From here on, I would relentlessly alternate between threats and appeasement to extract information.

The more I continued provoking them, the duller their judgment became.

In interrogation, it’s highly effective to first stir up the subject’s anxiety or anger in advance, or to push them into states such as hunger, thirst, or sleep deprivation. When done that way, the success rate of drawing out information rises significantly.

Torture that relies on fear and pain is also quite effective, but it’s difficult to handle properly. If you torture someone to the point that they can no longer provide information, it defeats the purpose entirely, so caution is essential.

I’d already beaten the elves thoroughly. Some had torn flesh and broken bones. If any of them died before the interrogation even began, it would be a problem, so I needed to wrap this up quickly and move on to the next step, or the entire schedule would fall apart.

『Proposal.』

“…What now?”

『This style of interrogation is inefficient. A more rapid method should be employed.』

“Be specific.”

『Use of electric shocks, or perhaps heat rays.』

“Stop.”

『They are non-lethal, so there would be no issue.』

“There’s a huge issue, you idiot.”

I recalled past instances when I’d allowed the orb to try those methods after it repeatedly suggested them, and the results had been horrific.

Prisoners stunned with electricity ended up with numb tongues and couldn’t speak to provide information. The heat rays didn’t merely singe hair or beards. They scorched skin and flesh as well.

This thing has no sense of restraint. If anything, it feels like it’s venting its resentment toward modern humans onto the captives.

Anyone who can’t properly judge how much physical pain to inflict in order to break a subject’s spirit without ruining them is unfit to serve as an interrogator.

Those who enjoy torture will immediately invent excuses and go out of their way to inflict needless suffering on others. If someone prioritizes their own gratification over the mission, there’s even a risk they’ll hoard information for themselves.

When I replied to the now-invisible orb, several of the elves shot me suspicious glances.

From an outsider’s perspective, it must’ve looked like I was muttering to myself at empty air.

This is exactly how the bad reputation of a deranged, torture-loving villainous knight spreads throughout the world, damn it.

Well, I don’t enjoy abusing prisoners, but even in legitimate armies, roughing up captives to gather intelligence is common practice behind closed doors.

It’s easier on the mind to simply regard it as part of the job. It really is a difficult way to live.

“Answer my questions without resistance. I’m sure you elves don’t wish to suffer any more pain than necessary.”

“…………”

“Then let me ask. What was your purpose in attacking us?”

“…………”

The elves clamped their mouths shut and turned their faces away. Not all of them, though. Some were so badly injured that their consciousness was already hazy.

Their refusal to speak might’ve stemmed from pride as elves, a resolve not to betray their comrades, or simple contempt for a human like me.

Probably all of the above. They likely believed that although they’d lost the fight, their hearts hadn’t yielded.

Let’s see just how firm that resolve really is.

“You there. Would you mind telling me the purpose behind attacking us?”

“…………”

To start, I addressed the one sitting closest to me who looked the most defiant.

He openly displayed hostility and kept his mouth shut, turning his face aside as though he couldn’t even bear to look at me.

The fact that he could still maintain such an attitude proved his injuries were relatively light. Physical stamina and mental resilience are closely linked. Captives who are physically exhausted and suffering from hunger or thirst break easily.

Interrogation should be conducted slowly and carefully, but this time there was no time to spare.

So I’d have to use the quickest method available.

“Are those absurdly long ears just for decoration? Or do you not understand the language? It seems the elf race really is nothing more than beasts that merely look beautiful.”

“What did you say!?”

“Oh my. It appears you possess enough intelligence to understand words, as well as emotions strong enough to flare up when your kin are insulted.”

“Shut up!!”

“I’m the one asking the questions. Hurry up and answer.”

“Shut your mouth! Go fall into hell!”

The enraged elf spat saliva as he hurled abuse at me.

The other elves who still had energy left sneered with vulgar, unpleasant grins as they watched.

In contrast, the more severely wounded elves wore anxious expressions. Some had consciousness so clouded that their eyes couldn’t even focus, and they seemed incapable of properly judging the situation.

Good. Very good.

When they display such blatant defiance right in front of me, even my inclination to hold back disappears.

This time, I’d do things my way. If the saintess scolds me later, so be it. I don’t care.

In this matter, I’d been granted full authority. Reconciliation between races without casualties could be left to kind-hearted people.

I untied the rope around the neck of the elf who’d spewed insults and retrieved the flashbang. Then I hoisted his bound body onto my shoulder and headed for the bathroom.

There was no water in the bathtub or any buckets. Waterboarding is a common torture method, but it takes time and is difficult to control properly.

So here, I’d use the shortest method possible.

I roughly threw the elf into the bathtub. He continued shouting curses, but I had no intention of responding, so I ignored him.

From my breast pocket, I drew my favorite large-caliber handgun. Its portability is terrible and it’s difficult to handle, but in exchange, its power rivals that of a rifle.

After loading the empty magazine with my custom rounds and disengaging the safety, I performed the motions smoothly and without hesitation. Seeing that, the elf finally went pale.

"Wa, wait! What is that thing!?"

"You lot don't even know what a handgun is?"

"No, that's not it! What the hell are you planning to do with that!?"

"Isn't it obvious what a tool for killing is used for?"

"Please! Stop it!"

"You should have shown that commendable attitude a little sooner."

"I understand! I'm sorry! I'll tell you everything I know!"

"There are still nine others. It does not have to be you I get the information from."

"Wa—!"

BANG!

BANG!

BOOM!

Gunshots echoed in the bathtub, and the smell of gunpowder filled the air.

All three fired bullets struck the elf squarely in the chest, yet not a single drop of blood flowed.

Of course not. The rounds I used were all specially processed resin bullets made for riot suppression.

When you absolutely do not want to kill the opponent, and a death would cause major problems, using resin for the projectile has been a method employed since long ago.

That said, because the gunpowder and casings were matched to my large-caliber handgun, the possibility of death was merely reduced to an extreme minimum rather than eliminated entirely.

A hit could easily break bones, and a bad placement might still kill the target.

However, a shot to the torso would almost certainly incapacitate through sheer impact and pain, causing loss of consciousness. For the current objective of breaking the elves' spirits, this was the optimal solution.

The elf who took the hits could not even groan before passing out. I pressed my fingers to his throat and mouth to confirm breathing and pulse, verifying he was still alive.

Leaving him bound hand and foot in the bathtub, I returned to the room. The faces of the elves had turned deathly pale.

From here, I would change my demeanor slightly. The gentlemanly noble act was now over.

I would dominate their agitation and fear to extract information. There were still various things to investigate afterward, so time was running short.

"Wh-what did you do!?"

"I shot him because he would not behave. That's all."

"Haa!?"

"It does not matter, does it? There are still nine elves left. Killing one would not make much difference."

"Are you serious!?"

"If I were not serious, I could not do something like this."

"Gah!!?"

Saying that, I pressed the muzzle of the still-held handgun against the elf's leg. The elf writhed in response.

The heat generated from firing the rounds still lingered in the barrel. It was not hot enough to cause a burn, but fear amplifies pain and heat, so it would feel far hotter than the actual temperature.

To further stoke the terror twisting the elf's face, I reached behind my waist and drew the item I had kept there.

What emerged from the thick leather sheath was a large knife with a familiar grip. Custom-made to fit my hand, it was more than twice the usual thickness and length.

Far from an ordinary knife, it rivaled a short sword in size, combining the weight of a machete with the sharpness of a razor. It could sever human limbs without difficulty and snap through even a thrusting sword with ease.

The blade, coated in rust-preventive oil and meticulously sharpened, showed no trace of rust or nicks—perfectly maintained.

A weapon designed to take life possesses a beauty born of pure function. Thanks to my upbringing, I may not discern the merits of fine art, but I can clearly tell the quality of weapons.

I picked up a piece of what had once been a chair—now splintered wood—from the edge of my vision and lightly touched the knife to it. With an almost sucking cut, it cleaved cleanly in two without any resistance.

The elves' faces, upon seeing that, went beyond pale and turned ashen white.

"Now then, I will ask again, so answer honestly this time. If you refuse, someone in here will lose a part of their body."

"Hiii!"

"The nose and tongue are only one each, but eyes and ears come in pairs, arms and legs are two each, and fingers total twenty. Multiply that by nine, and it will take quite a while to cut them all off."

"Stop it! Please stop!"

"Living the rest of your long lives with missing parts would be quite painful, would it not? While I, a mere human with a far shorter lifespan, will die laughing at you, I truly sympathize from the bottom of my heart with the endless suffering you will endure long after I am gone."

I shifted from the pseudo-noble speech of earlier back to my usual rough tone. This way, they would believe I was truly serious.

The elves, keenly sensing the change in the atmosphere surrounding me, began to sweat profusely.

It is said that elves judge one another by magical power rather than facial beauty, but there are still limits.

Even scars received as honorable battle wounds after becoming a noble are whispered about behind one's back as ugly.

How would someone treated after having parts of their body mutilated by an inferior human be regarded? Even Yumelia-san, whose only son serves as a close aide to the saintess, is coldly treated by the elves.

Their future would become exceedingly bleak.

"I understand! I'll talk! I'll talk, so please stop!"

"Please! Spare our lives at least!"

"We were just hired for this! We never seriously intended to attack you!"

How quickly they changed their tune. Do you people have no beliefs, no pride, no sense of decency at all?

Seeing them reduced to such pitiful states almost made me hesitate to push further—almost. I had no intention whatsoever of going easy on them.

For the time being, I approached the elf who still looked the most energetic and pressed the knife against his neck.

"Ahh!?"

"I will listen, so stop screaming. If my hand slips, the one who dies will be you."

"…!"

"I will ask the questions, so answer properly. If any of the others know something, tell me immediately."

"I-I understand."

"If you lie, I will cut your head off on the spot and move on to the next one."

All of them nodded silently. With that, I had complete control of the room's atmosphere. From here, out of fear for their lives, they would spill every secret without holding back.

I truly detest this talent of mine for being so adept at violence and torture.

Once this incident is over, the villainous knight's bad reputation will probably spread among the elves as well.

"What do you people normally do in this village?"

"We-we are subordinates of the village chief."

“Our roles are each different.”

“In other words, the one who ordered you to attack us was the village chief, right?”

“N-no.”

“Answer clearly! If you waste my time with pointless stalling, I’ll cut out that tongue and make you eat it!”

“Uwaaah!?”

I reversed the grip on the blade and pressed its flat side against his neck.

It wouldn’t leave a wound, but having cold metal pressed directly against bare skin would surely inspire overwhelming terror.

His face twisted in fear as the elf opened and closed his mouth repeatedly, like a fish gasping out of water.

Threatening him any further would be pointless now. When I pulled the knife away, he visibly relaxed, and a faint hint of color returned to his face.

“I’ll ask you one more time. Who gave the order?”

“…It was the subordinates of the former village chief.”

“I heard he lives with his comrades somewhere away from the village.”

“But he still resides on this floating island.”

“We don’t have the technology to expand the floating island, and the land suitable for farming is limited. There’s a limit to how self-sufficient elves can be.”

“Wasn’t the income from this town used to distribute food?”

“No. He procures goods through different channels than the current village chief.”

“I don’t know the exact method, but he does business with the underworld and has excellent cash flow.”

“It’s not just food. He buys animals and tools as well.”

It seemed the former village chief’s surroundings were far more dangerous than what I’d heard at the settlement or sensed through casual observation.

This wasn’t simply a demihuman rebellion.

“Did you have no doubts about any of that?”

“Of course not. They pay us just for transporting cargo or turning a blind eye.”

“Since the kingdom changed, elves have become poor. If we don’t do this, we’ll be forced to live hungry for hundreds of years.”

“So the reason you attacked us was the money you were promised.”

“…………”

All the elves fell silent. When they act like that, it’s as good as a confession.

Being targeted over such a small amount of money is infuriating, but their motive is painfully easy to understand.

What I truly wanted to know was what the former village chief intended to do with us.

From the fact that he chose to suppress us through hired violence, it was clear negotiation was never his goal.

Even so, killing a noble would surely provoke serious retaliation from the Holfort Kingdom.

Did he have some kind of trump card prepared, something that would keep the kingdom’s army or the temple knights from becoming a threat?

No, beyond even the Holfort Kingdom, there was a lost item sleeping here that could potentially destroy the world.

It wouldn’t be strange if something similar existed within the ruins of this floating island, something the former village chief and his group could exploit.

By prioritizing Angie’s rescue, I hadn’t been able to investigate thoroughly. That was my failure.

The one thing that went right was managing to send a direct messenger to the capital. Still, it felt like I’d been making one misjudgment after another.

“What exactly is the former village chief plotting?”

“We don’t know the details. He’s only ever said, ‘I’ll return this world to the way it should be.’”

“A large amount of money flows into the village through transporting and exporting goods addressed to the former village chief.”

“No one loses out, so no one complains. To the airport workers, he’s a valuable regular customer.”

“The current village chief believes that as long as the village prospers, the identity of the business partner doesn’t matter, so he hasn’t forbidden dealings between elves.”

“That’s why it isn’t unusual for those of us working in town to do business with people aligned with the former village chief.”

Perhaps because of the threats, the elves began sharing everything they knew, one detail after another.

Even so, the most crucial pieces remained vague, and I still couldn’t grasp the full picture.

To learn more, I’d either have to explore the ruins again or infiltrate the fortress where the former village chief and his group were hiding, then question them directly.

Either option had its limits alone. It would be better to leave the troublesome matters to the saintess and the people in the capital, while I focused solely on restoring Angie.

I surveyed the nine elves still bound in the room and walked toward the one whose wounds were the least severe.

Perhaps thinking he was about to be tortured, the elf stiffened, but I ignored his reaction and pointed the knife at him.

He shut his eyes, convinced he was about to be stabbed, but the target I intended to cut wasn’t his body.

I lightly touched the sharpened blade to the thick rope and slid it along. The rope parted cleanly.

“W-what are you planning…?”

“I’m setting you free. Go call your comrades and have them come collect the rest.”

“…Huh?”

“I’ve heard what I needed for now. I’ve got no further use for you.”

“Is this a trap?”

“If it were, I wouldn’t release you. I’d just kill you all. If you’re dissatisfied, should I do that right now?”

“I-I understand. Please stop.”

“Go, quickly, before I change my mind.”

The elf hurried out of the room. Given his injuries, he wouldn’t be able to run very fast.

Leaving the remaining elves behind, I exited through the emergency door.

“Orb.”

『…What do you require of me?』

“Can you track the elf who just left?”

『It’s possible. However, I demand a detailed explanation for why you released him.』

“If he calls his comrades, the former village chief’s faction will start moving as well. Dealing with both the ruins’ monsters and the elves at the same time would be too much for me alone.”

『In other words, a diversion and disruption tactic?』

“My top priority is securing the ruins and restoring Angie. Suppressing the elves’ rebellion can be left to those arriving from the capital.”

『Understood. However, accompanying you into the ruins will be my condition.』

“That goes without saying. When it comes to old humanity or lost items, there’s no one more qualified than you.”

『Then.』

As I opened the emergency exit, I sensed the presence beside me vanish.

Though I couldn’t see him, the orb had likely already departed to carry out his task.

For the time being, I’d remain hidden while observing the town. If I spotted anyone suspicious, I’d track or interrogate them.

It seemed there’d be no time to sleep tonight.

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Authors Note

┻━⁠━━━━⁠━━⁠━━━⁠┻

The villainous knight’s interrogation chapter. This isn’t torture. It’s deception.

In the original work as well, Leon beats people up or points guns at them regardless of gender, age, or race, so the villainous knight in this version is appropriately violent.

This Leon has the talent for it, but his personality isn’t suited to rough methods. That’s his personal moto, his worry. Whenever he feels troubled by it, Angie comforts him.

P.S.: At the requester’s request, Indol-sama and Vivei-sama have kindly provided illustrations for this work.

Additionally, the insert illustrations previously drawn by 9430-sama have been posted on pixiv. Many thanks.

Indol-sama : Pixiv

Vivei-sama : Pixiv

9430-sama : Pixiv1 Pixiv 2 Pixiv 3

I’d greatly appreciate any opinions or impressions, as they’d serve as encouragement for future chapters.