Chapter 286: The Interrogation

Silvermoon City’s prison was located in the western part of the city, near the Mozambi slums.

This area had few residential buildings and looked somewhat desolate, with hardly anyone passing by the prison.

Most of the prisoners held here were either ordinary people or weaker wizards, usually just wizard apprentices.

If a first-level wizard or someone of higher rank committed a crime, this prison wouldn’t be able to hold them.

Moreover, it would be a waste of resources to simply imprison such individuals. Instead, they were often put to use in dangerous tasks, such as in wars.

Since Doren’s case involved the Abyss Plane, Pruis skipped many of the usual formalities and had him taken directly to the interrogation room in Silvermoon City’s prison.

Helag stayed behind to observe the interrogation process.

As a member of Seranthiel, Helag was part of the organization, so there was no concern about confidentiality.

In the dimly lit interrogation room, Doren sat behind a table, while Pruis sat across from him.

The room was dark, and Doren could only make out half of Pruis’s face, with a few others standing around, watching him closely.

“I’ll ask you questions, and you’ll answer. If you cooperate, you won’t suffer. But if you lie or refuse to cooperate, don’t blame me for what happens next,” Pruis said coldly.

Doren’s breathing quickened, and he felt a wave of panic.

He knew this was Seranthiel’s territory, and trying to act tough here would get him nowhere. These people were far more ruthless than he could ever be.

Doren quickly nodded. “I’ll cooperate, I’ll cooperate.”

“First question: Do you recognize this wooden sculpture?” Pruis placed the broken wooden sculpture on the table.

Doren’s heart sank when he saw the two halves of the sculpture. He knew he was in deep trouble.

Sweat began to form on his forehead as he tried to maintain his composure.

He glanced at the sculpture, pretending to examine it for a moment before saying, “Yes, I recognize it. It’s a gift I gave to Mrs. Wendy.”

“Good. Now, do you recognize this?” Pruis followed up by placing the test tube containing the Heart-Eating Worm on the table.

“This… What kind of worm is this? I’ve never seen it before,” Doren quickly shook his head, denying any knowledge of it. There was no way he could admit to this.

It was true that he had given the sculpture to Wendy, but he could feign ignorance about the worm inside. Doren hoped to bluff his way through.

“Really? You don’t recognize it? This worm was found inside the wooden sculpture. Let me introduce it to you. This is a Heart-Eating Worm, a creature from the Abyss Plane. It can manipulate minds and turn people into slaves,” Pruis said, his words hitting Doren like a hammer with each sentence.

Doren knew he was doomed, but he couldn’t admit to anything. He was determined to deny everything, knowing that admitting to colluding with the Abyss Plane was a death sentence.

Feigning confusion, Doren explained, “Mr. Pruis, I… I didn’t know there was something like that inside the sculpture. I just thought it was a nice piece of craftsmanship. I knew Mrs. Wendy liked such things, so I bought it for her. If I had known there was something like this inside, I would have reported it to you immediately.”

“Bought it? From whom? When, where, and for how much? Contact the seller immediately,” Pruis fired off a series of questions.

Doren’s mind went blank. He couldn’t think of a response. There was no seller—he had received the sculpture directly from the dark god of the Abyss Plane.

He hadn’t anticipated being caught, and claiming he had bought the sculpture was just a flimsy excuse he had come up with on the spot.

Now, when asked for details, he had no answer.

“I… I…” Doren stammered, unable to come up with a lie.

Pruis grabbed him by the throat. “If you tell even one more lie, I’ll make you regret ever being born.”

Pruis’s voice was cold and emotionless, sending a chill down Doren’s spine. His heart sank into despair.

After a moment, Pruis released his grip, and Doren’s face turned red as he gasped for air, on the verge of suffocation.

*Cough… cough…* “I… I…” Doren tried to speak between coughs.

Pruis raised a finger to his lips. “Shh. Think carefully before you say anything.”

Doren shivered and dared not speak recklessly again.

Pruis continued, “We both know what’s going on here. The only reason I haven’t started torturing you yet is because I want you to remain conscious so we can get to the bottom of this. If you refuse to cooperate, I’ll have no choice but to let your soul do the talking.”

Doren swallowed hard, realizing there was no way out. Resigned to his fate, he said bitterly, “Just make it quick when the time comes.”

“No problem. I don’t enjoy torturing people. I’ll make sure you go peacefully, as if you were falling asleep,” Pruis replied without hesitation.

Doren thought for a moment, then glanced at the western wall and said, “I’m from the Mozambi slums nearby. I was an orphan as a child, surviving on the food distributed by Seranthiel.”

“But that food was barely enough to keep me alive. Living in the slums felt hopeless, like there was no future. Then one day, an old man gave me a statue. He told me it was a god and that if I prayed to it sincerely, I could have everything I wanted.”

“I wasn’t stupid. I knew right away that it was one of the dark gods Silvermoon City always warned about. But I didn’t refuse. I had nothing left to lose.”

“I took the statue and then bashed the old man’s head in.”

“That night, I successfully communicated with the dark god behind the statue. He gave me wizard talent and taught me how to cultivate. But because my talent was so poor, my progress was limited.”

“After that, I used the dark god’s power to start my business from scratch…”

***

“And where is the statue now?” Pruis asked.

Doren raised his hand and pointed to his head. “It’s in here. Whenever I meditate, I can communicate with the god through this mark.”

“Very good. You’ve been honest, and because of that, you’ll live a little longer,” Pruis said with a smile.

“R-really?” Doren asked, hardly able to believe it. He had thought he was as good as dead, but now it seemed like there was a chance he might survive.

Pruis smiled. “Of course. We need to use the mark in your mind for some experiments.”

This kind of connection to a dark god from the Abyss Plane was an invaluable research opportunity for Seranthiel.

The Wizard Plane wasn’t always on the defensive. They actively explored and launched offensives against the Abyss Plane as well.

The Abyss Plane coveted the Wizard Plane, but the wizards were just as interested in the Abyss Plane, albeit more cautiously.