thefictionvixens 102. Military power
102. Military power
Xinlai sighed, knowing that now was not the time to turn against them.
Sinley stared at Simondo for a few seconds. Simondo looked back at him, his small eyes, squeezed into his fleshy face, unyielding and even somewhat defiant.
This dungeon was his territory, and Simeon was his backer, so he was fearless.
Xinlai slowly loosened her fist.
"Get out," Xinlai said, her voice regaining its calm. "I need to interrogate the prisoner alone."
Simondo frowned, deep lines appearing on his plump face. "Your Highness, this is against the rules—"
"This is within the deputy judge's authority." Xinlai took out the document and unfolded it in front of him. "Would you like to take another look?"
Simono gritted his teeth, the muscles in his jaw twitching. He stared at the document for a few seconds, then turned and walked out without a word.
The iron gate wasn't closed, not out of kindness, but because regulations required at least one guard to be present during interrogations. Simondo clearly intended to stand guard a short distance outside the gate, a position that wouldn't be considered disobeying orders while ensuring everything remained under his control.
His footsteps faded into the distance, but stopped at the corner about thirty paces away.
Xinlai could hear his heavy breathing and the sound of his iron boots moving restlessly on the ground.
At this distance, if Sinley and Marquis Tanstin were to speak normally, Simondo would only hear a muffled buzzing sound and wouldn't be able to make out the specific content.
But if the sound is a little louder, it's hard to say.
Sinlai crouched down and moved closer to Marquis Tansting.
The stench of rotting straw and decaying wounds assaulted the senses, so strong it was almost blinding. But Xinlai did not back down.
His knees pressed against the stone slabs of the ground, the icy temperature seeping through his clothes into his skin, keeping his mind unusually clear.
"My lord, I have arrived."
Marquis Tanstin shook his head with difficulty, making only a small movement, because the wound on his neck prevented him from making any larger movements.
His lips twitched, forcing a smile that looked more like a grimace. The movement caused his chapped lips to split open in two more places, from which tiny beads of blood seeped out.
His voice was broken, with a pause between each word before he could finish the next, "I...I don't have much time left..."
He was telling the truth.
Although the priest Xinlai had invited was unable to enter the dungeon, he made a judgment from outside based on Xinlai's description of the injuries: extensive wound infection, persistent high fever, possible internal bleeding, coupled with the damp and cold environment of the dungeon and the scarcity of food, the Marquis of Tanstin's body was collapsing at a visible rate.
Even if we remove him from the dungeon immediately and have the best healing priests do their best to save him, we probably only have less than a 30% chance of success.
And the trial is imminent.
The Marquis of Tanstin won't live to see that day.
"I can let you see Eve again," Xinlai said in a low voice, keeping the volume so that only the two of them could hear. "She misses you."
Upon hearing his daughter's name, Marquis Tanstin's body trembled violently, as if an electric current had passed through his broken body.
Tears welled up from that swollen eye, mingling with blood, and streamed down her bruised cheek, dripping into the moldy straw beneath her.
Tears seeped into the gaps in the straw and disappeared in the blink of an eye, leaving only a dark, damp stain.
"Eve... Is Eve alright?" His voice suddenly became urgent, his breathing quickened, and the pain from the wound in his chest caused him to cough twice.
When he coughed, his body curled up even tighter, like a snail whose shell had been stepped on, every muscle spasming.
The cough was muffled in the throat, with a wet, rattling sound, clearly indicating that fluid had accumulated in the lungs.
Xinlai waited until his cough subsided before speaking softly, "She's fine."
The Marquis of Tansten wept even more profusely.
Tears streamed down his face, stinging his wounds and causing him to gasp for breath, but he seemed completely oblivious to the pain.
He struggled to sit up, bracing himself against the haystack, the chains rattling, but the wounds on his arms and the atrophied muscles made it impossible for him to exert any strength.
His body had barely moved a fist's distance from the haystack when he fell heavily back down, letting out a painful groan.
"Don't move." Xin Lai reached out and pressed down on his shoulder. The shoulder under her palm was thin and bony, with the shoulder blades protruding high, like two blades about to pierce the skin.
Through the tattered fabric, Xin Lai could feel the temperature of his body. It wasn't the normal warmth, but a sickly burning heat, like a piece of iron that had been heated and was gradually cooling down.
"Thank you... thank you..." Marquis Tanstin murmured, his voice choked with emotion.
"I thought... I thought she would be implicated because of me, but I never expected..."
Tears welled up in his eyes, mingling with blood, turning the straw a dark brown.
"My Lord Marquis," Xin Lai said, pulling herself out of her thoughts and lowering her voice even further, "I have something to say."
Your injuries are too severe; I'm afraid you won't make it through the night..."
Marquis Tanstin remained silent for a few seconds.
For those few seconds, the cell was so quiet that only the sound of water seeping through the walls and faint groans coming from a distant cell could be heard. Then, he nodded, his movements slow and calm.
"I...I know..."
His voice was unusually calm, as if he were stating something unrelated to himself, "I knew from the day they pulled out my fingernails..."
As he said this, his gaze fell on his ten bloodied and mangled fingers. There was no fear or anger in his eyes, only a weariness and resignation that had settled after a long period of torment.
When a person knows they are doomed, they are no longer afraid. What they fear are those who still cling to hope and continue to struggle.
"So I want to ask you," Sinley said, "what unfulfilled wishes do you have? I will do my best to help you with anything I can."
Marquis Tanstin closed his eyes and remained silent for a long time.
So long that Xinlai thought he had fallen asleep or passed out. Just as Xinlai was about to reach out to check his breathing, his lips moved.
"military power."
He finally spoke, his voice weak but clear, each word as if squeezed out from the depths of his chest with all his might.
He opened his eyes, his cloudy right eye staring straight at Xinlai, his gaze suddenly sharpening.
That was the gaze of a general who once commanded thousands of troops. Even after being tortured beyond recognition, the sharpness etched into his bones had not been extinguished.
"I promised you, military power..."
Sinlai's heart skipped a beat. He subconsciously glanced back in the direction of the cell door: Simondo's breathing was still thirty paces away around the corner, heavy and even, with no sign of him getting closer.