To prevent panic from spreading throughout the inner castle, Rune immediately ordered a full lockdown after the unexpected attack. Under his command, all entrances and exits were sealed, and the patrol routes were doubled. After two days of thorough investigation, several spies who had infiltrated the castle were found and eliminated, restoring the inner castle to its original order. The routine flow of guards, knights, and servants returned to a controlled, steady rhythm.
As for the captured Black Sword Knight, he had been barely clinging to life by the time he was dragged into the dungeon. Even after receiving urgent treatment, he was little more than a crippled body chained upright against cold iron pillars. For two consecutive days, the interrogation team failed to extract anything useful from him.
In the council hall, Brede summarized the results with a stiff expression.
"That man must have undergone strict anti-interrogation conditioning. No matter what we did, not a word escaped his mouth."
Jorton scoffed with his usual impatience. "Then break him. Crush his bones one by one. I refuse to believe anyone can endure that without screaming."
Brede shook his head gravely. "We tried. It's pointless. He has somehow mastered a method to separate his mind from physical pain. Even when his bones cracked, his expression did not shift."
"There's a method like that?" Jorton's eyes widened in disbelief.
Murmurs spread among the knights standing in the hall. Their exchanged glances all reflected a shared concern—if torture could not reach the man, then how were they supposed to interrogate him?
Rune frowned deeply. He turned toward the quiet figure seated at the side—Magus.
"Magus, do you have any suggestions?"
Magus nodded calmly. "Leave the interrogation to me."
The atmosphere in the hall instantly shifted. Hopes that had been dulled over two days of fruitless torture flickered alive again. Brede and Jorton led Magus down the spiraling stone steps toward the lower dungeon, their footsteps echoing ominously through the cold air.
The dungeon was dim, lit only by sputtering lamps that cast distorted shadows across the damp walls. As the heavy iron door groaned open, Magus stepped into the cell.
The Black Sword Knight hung there like a battered corpse, restrained by thick chains that bound his wrists and ankles to the pillars. His body was covered in scorch marks left by the lightning rune gem, and patches of skin were charred black. The accumulated torture of two days had turned him into a grotesque mosaic of wounds. Yet his expression remained disturbingly calm—no pain, no fear, not even anger. Only a cold emptiness.
When he saw Magus enter, a faint sneer curled onto his blood-stained lips.
"Don't waste your time," he spat weakly. "You'll get nothing from me. If you have the courage, kill me and be done with it."
Magus regarded him with detached curiosity. "If you truly wished for death, there were countless opportunities for suicide. You're trained—you know how to bite through your tongue or fracture your own neck. Yet you didn't. Why cling to life if death is what you want?"
The knight's expression faltered. His eyelid twitched violently before he turned away and fell silent.
Magus stepped closer, unbothered. "Since torture doesn't work on you, then you will speak on your own."
The knight was about to unleash another bout of contempt when his gaze collided with Magus'. In that instant, his body stiffened. A subtle tremor rippled through him. It felt as though he were staring into an unfathomable abyss—an impossibly deep, dark pool that pulled at the edges of his consciousness. His thoughts dulled. His heartbeat slowed. Reality seemed to melt away.
Within seconds, the knight's expression went blank. His eyes turned glassy, vacant, as if he were drifting in a waking dream.
Magus's voice was calm. "Name."
"Yuri Elric," the Black Sword Knight replied, hollow and obedient.
"Age."
"Thirty-two."
Behind Magus, Brede and Jorton froze. Their jaws nearly dropped to the floor.
What… was happening?
A man who resisted every imaginable form of torture was now answering questions like a docile child. Completely unrestrained. Completely open. Completely defenseless.
The two knights exchanged a rigid glance. Their minds immediately connected the dots—this must be that strange ability Magus had used before. Magic.
A spell that could strip a man's will away and turn him into a compliant puppet...
Before such power, no secret was safe.
Both men felt a chill run down their spines—not of fear, but of reverence. Their respect for Magus deepened, becoming tinged with awe.
Magus paid them no attention. His focus remained fixed on the enthralled knight.
The spell he had cast—Charm Human—was simple in concept but potent in effect. It gently twisted the target's perception, making the caster appear trustworthy, even friendly. Commands given under this illusion became suggestions from a valued companion, rather than threats from an enemy. While the spell could not compel someone to kill themselves or take direct actions that clearly endangered their life, it excelled at extracting information.
And information was precisely what Magus needed.
"Who sent you to assassinate the Lord of Blackstone City?"
"It was Archpriest Kasper."
"Archpriest?" Magus's brow lifted.
"Your affiliation?" he continued.
"We serve the Starfire Church," the knight said flatly. "We believe in the great Star God who created this continent."
Despite the spell's influence, the mere mention of the Star God sparked a faint, manic glow within the knight's blank gaze—proof of how deeply rooted his faith was.
Starfire Church… again, Magus thought. They had already assaulted the Storm Earl. Now they were behind this assassination as well? Their reach was far wider than expected.
"What is your connection to the Gold Rock Marquis?" Magus asked.
"I don't know." The knight shook his head slowly.
That answer made sense. The Marquis would never deal directly with someone of this man's rank. The liaison must have been one of the Church's higher-ranking members.
"How many of your companions are in Blackstone City?" Magus asked next.
"Including me, four."
"List the spies you know."
One by one, the Black Sword Knight recited names and hiding places—six or seven in total. Brede's eyes widened; several of them matched the spies they had caught earlier. He scribbled every detail onto a parchment and, with Jorton, hurried out to organize immediate arrests.
Magus continued. "Tell me about the Starfire Church. Hierarchy, strongholds, leaders—everything you know."
The knight obeyed. Piece by piece, a hidden world emerged.
The Starfire Church was a fervent religious sect that worshipped the so-called Star God. They believed it was their divine mission to spread the Star God's glory throughout the entire continent. Their growth had been shockingly rapid—only a little more than ten years, and yet their network already spanned the entire Starlight Principality.
They accomplished this through strategic cooperation with nobles. For a price, they would assassinate political rivals or obstruct opponents. In return, those same nobles protected them, advancing the sect's influence and reach.
Above the ordinary priests stood the Archpriests, the High Priest, the Grand Priest, and ultimately the Pope who dominated the entire organization.
Magus murmured thoughtfully, "If Great Knights are only considered mid-tier members… then the Starfire Church is far more deeply rooted than I imagined."
He had previously suspected some connection between the Church and the mysterious Wizard Apprentices, but that theory crumbled. The Church's faith-driven ideology opposed everything the path of wizardry stood for. Wizards sought truth from within; the Church surrendered to a deity.
"Strongholds," Magus prompted. "Where are they?"
The knight shook his head again. "I only know of three within the Golden Rock Province. I don't know about other provinces."
Magus memorized the locations and personnel he described. Then he moved on to the Church's activities over the past decade.
What he learned next left him silent for several long seconds.
The seven or eight nobles who had died mysteriously across the Golden Rock Province—every single one of them had been killed by the Starfire Church. The deaths were carefully orchestrated to appear accidental, or caused by sudden illness. If those methods failed, direct assassination was used.
Among those murdered was Magus's own cheap father.
Although history recorded his death as one that occurred in battle, the truth was far darker. Before the war even began, the Church had planted an infiltrator within his personal guard. When the battle unfolded, the assassin created an "accident" that ensured his death at the hands of the enemy.
The knight could not explain the underlying purpose of these killings. But Magus didn't need to hear it.
He already understood.
Only one person benefited—
The Gold Rock Marquis.
By eliminating subordinate nobles and installing compliant puppets in their place, the Marquis could indirectly dominate their territories. His ambition was obvious: control over the entire Golden Rock Province.
But Magus sensed something deeper.
If the Marquis's goal was merely to dominate one province, such elaborate schemes were unnecessary.
No… he must be planning something far greater.
And Magus intended to uncover exactly what that was.