His tone of voice was calm, yet the sense of dread that flooded the man was beyond measure. The weight of a crash upon him, the air's weight growing tenfold as it rained upon him.
Jason lowered himself to a squat, his cold gaze bearing daggers as he silently stared at him.
"Want to know the sensitive parts of the body?" He spoke calmly.
The man squirmed, and whining began to exit from his mouth. Jason simply peered back.
"The ears, tongue, eyes, lips, and fingertips. Did you know that?"
He shook his head, tears forming at the corner of his eyes as he would very soon learn the truth in an excruciating manner.
"Buuuut..." Jason added on with a tinge of excitement, the word dragging on for an unsettling time.
"The male has a very special one!" His tone raised, bordering on a near yell that made the man jump, which only caused him to groan in pain as the sword cut further into his body. Sweat beaded down his face as the future looked incredibly bleak and painful.
Jason reached his hand to the man's groin and squeezed tightly, an action that is usually pleasurable, strained into one of unsightly torment as his lower body arched in response, his cries exaggerated.
Jason brought his face a hair's breadth from his, and spoke slowly. "Do you want to know... Just how sensitive is it truly?" The man wildly shook his head from side to side, his eyes widened in pure terror as the grasp of dread broke his heart.
"Then talk."
The man stopped, and his eyes glanced around the room, but what mattered most to Jason was the fact that no words came from his mouth.
Agnus stepped forward, a slim object held in his hands.
It wasn't lengthy or the width of a pencil; It was merely a single pin, narrow enough to fit in the smallest gaps.
Jason quickly grabbed the pants around the man's waist and ripped them off, his underwear following along with it.
"IM NOT GONNA TALK! JUST KILL ME NOW PLEASE!" Words finally escaped from his mouth as they already gone to this length; He was sure they weren't bluffing.
"Aw man, that just makes me want to do this even more," Jason said as he extended his hand, stopping just before his lower member. The man tracked his movements, his breath accelerating as he neared.
"I'm not gay, I promise."
"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!"
Jason brutally squeezed the man's... Jewels as he helplessly thrashed around, completely ignoring the sword burrowed in his shoulder as the pain fanned throughout his body in an instant, his nerves shot as pain surged through them endlessly.
Jason released them, retracting his hand as he let the man recover.
His previous whimpers burst into sobs as tears flowed down his face, mixing with his sweat.
Jason turned his head, a playful smile plastered on his lips as he spoke to Agnus, "Oh, hey! What's that neat thing you have in your hand?" He asked as the man opened his eyes to look at the boy who idly stood behind Jason, his face deadpan as his white hair brushed his eyebrows.
"Uh, a needle."
Jason looked back with a feigned expression, his lips curved into a wide O as if he gasped in shock.
"Really nice, I must say. Wanna know something?" His face neared the poor man's again, and he saw every tear that dripped down, "What comes out of a hole can as easily go in. You know what that means right?"
"No, no no no no no no no please no just no please don't" Words exited his mouth at a hasty pace as he realized their intent; Something he did not wish upon his worst enemy.
"Agnus! Aren't you happy to be doing this? Show him a smile! Make him feel at home!"
Agnus stared back before averting his gaze to the man who connected his gaze with Agnus as his face dropped.
Agnus smiled.
His best re-enactment of a smile, the most genuine one he could wear.
His lips curled to his ears, his top teeth popped out far too much, and his eyes didn't move at all. His cheeks spread too much, revealing his inner mouth.
It was the ugliest smile in the world.
Jason was slightly taken aback at how... Horrible it was.
It looked more as if a monster was wearing his skin and walking upon the world.
The sense of dread for the man only amplified, his whole body succumbing to it as his mind weakened, the sight straight out of a horror film.
"FUCK OKAY OKAY, I'LL TELL YOU EVERYTHING I KNOW! PLEASE! THEY'RE USING MY KID AS LEVERAGE, GOD DAMNIT!"
The words completely changed the trajectory of how the situation would play out, as Jason's malevolent persona suddenly vanished. His expression quickly grew dark as the sentence caused an instant shift in his mindset.
The man tried to kill him, a fact that would not be dismissed. If it was true? Then his life might just be spared.
"If you're lying to me, I really will torture you. I'm only taking this chance cause I cannot, in good conscience, possibly leave a kid to a horrible fate." Jason stated simply, but his voice was as sharp as his blade.
The man frantically nodded his head up and down, "The abandoned warehouse a few miles east of Golon's Grub, they're there. My child, Salvador, and three other men. I don't know their names, who they work for, or even their level of authority. But they're strong. King-tier most likely."
Jason took the words with deliberate thought, as if King-tier soldiers were roaming around, forcing Ascendants to commit crimes while holding their families hostage; it would truly be a problem within the inner works of the Heretics.
"I see."
Emperors existed, but in sparse amounts. Since the fortress on Kupali, forces were desperately needed, and slowly but surely, the rate of Emperor-tiered warriors rose until it barely skimmed the 100 mark.
The Revered matched this soon after, but now the fields were evened.
King's, on the other hand, were plentiful.
Billions existed, and Ascendant warriors numbered roughly 50 billion in just the Heretic Cult alone.
To any normal soldier, kings were the pinnacle of battle. The strongest foes or allies they'd ever witness in battle.
Emperors were scarcely used; They acted as commanders of planetary bases, and only one or two were dispatched on an invasion to claim a planet.
King-tiers were no problem, but if those men were serving under someone else, it was likely an Emperor.
'Rotten.'
The cult was rotten to the core.
Ever since Kupali, the trust and kindness that the Heretics built themselves on slowly crumbled, resulting in the situation this day.
Children were given free food, and struggling families were held afloat by their peers. But now, society has crumbled into a weak infrastructure and struggling economy, the wealthiest striving and the poor suffering and enduring just to survive.
'What is our god doing?' Jason asked himself in his head, for he did not know the answer. If their god himself let the cult be in this state, then there was truly no hope.
Nothing could be changed.
Jason didn't let the possibility hinder his motivation; It only made his will more resolute.
'After this is all over, I won't rest.
I'll purify the plague wedged within the Heretics, and restore its holiness.'
His goal didn't change; it merely added an endgame to it all.
His vow stretched further than personal revenge, lengthening into retribution against those who let the cult degrade into what it is now.
"What else can you tell us?" Jason asked solemnly in a soft tone, his eyes relaxing as he retained eye contact with the father. "Other than what I already said, I was supposed to get a reward. They didn't tell me what, though. They wanted it to be a secret."
Agnus drew a blank; there wasn't an award prizeful enough to be left a secret unless it was a lie. Nodding, Jason stood up and squeezed the sword dug into the man's shoulder, and he nodded the moment before Jason ripped it out, a flurry of blood spewing out of the wound as he groaned in agony.
Jason quickly administered basic Mana Medical Procedures, and the wound healed quickly after, but the man's skin remained a ghastly pale as the blood loss was severe. He'd live; But if a fight broke out at the warehouse, he'd be in great danger. "We're going to the warehouse. I assume you're gonna come?"
The man peered into Jason's, an unbreakable determination wavering in his eyes, "Definitely."
Weakly but steadily, he stood up, a deep breath escaping his lips as his physical state deteriorated heavily. His eyes fell upon his peers who fell in battle, but he didn't care about them. They were happy to be killing someone, a feeling that was not mutual. Could they have been forced into the same situation he was? Possibly, but they came around to the pleasure from killing, something even he did not do.
In his stomach, an odd sensation flared, 'Will I be alive at the end?' If no one was at the warehouse, Jason would kill him. If they were; He would have to fight, and there was no guarantee he'd survive that. The man he thought was Zackary was strong, immensely so, but facing three King-tiers? That was a whole different story.
If he had the chance to take his son and leave, he'd do it in a heartbeat. He'd be full of shame to leave the two alone, but his son's life was never put below anything else, even his own dignity. He would kill for his son and die for his son. And that's exactly what he'd be doing.
Killing for his son.