Chapter 71: Dungeon

I knocked on the salon door, and a guard knight opened it, so I nodded and stepped inside.

“Wiles, what is the matter?”

“We have captured an adventurer named Leon and placed him in the dungeon.”

“Leon, huh? Let me see this fellow’s face. Bring him here.”

“Lord Olga, I cannot allow filthy refugees into the salon. If this man has brought misfortune to the Fleming family, he should remain locked in the dungeon until death.”

“Understood, Mother. But before that, I will make him regret causing misfortune to the Marquis’ family.”

Drunk on wine, Olga flushed with excitement at the thought of tormenting a weaker person and stood up, his eyes bloodshot.

When the guard opened the door, I was guided toward the dungeon by the butler Wiles.

Without this trait, Lord Olga would be an ordinary noble, but unlike his father and brother, his personality was troubling to Wiles. His father and brother were womanizers, abandoned by their wives, yet Olga’s enjoyment of hurting others suggested he could cause serious problems in the future.

Still, Wiles came from a line of butlers who had served the Fleming marquis family for generations. Even though they had been demoted to counts, he could not abandon the family.

The sounds of many footsteps approached, growing loud, and I could sense seven or eight presences nearby with my perception magic.

“Open it.”

“Yes, Olga-sama, since the charges are unclear, he still has his personal belongings…”

“No matter. Surely this many people can subdue a single adventurer. Open it!”

Hmm… so Olga is the one in charge.

Even if I’m disarmed, as long as they don’t touch my hidden magic pouches, I can at least listen to them talk. They completely underestimate a single adventurer due to sheer numbers and brute force.

The lock clicked open, and as the knights pushed the door, they shouted:

“This is Count Olga Fleming! Kneel!”

In a dungeon with no chairs, being told to kneel on the filthy stone floor—nobles are the worst.

Wait, did I just hear “Count Fleming”? Could this be connected to the Marquis Fleming of Korche, or Warrens?

And I thought Berna was a viscount’s territory… so why a count?

I knelt anyway and created a small [Dome!] around myself.

Two stood behind me, two to my sides, and then the one who entered calmly—the Fleming Count, I presume.

I could see the shoes of the man in front of me—again, finely decorated, completely out of place.

“So, such a small man has brought misfortune to the Fleming family?”

“Um, did I…?”

“Impudent wretch! How dare a lowly person like you speak to Countess Fleming!”

“Ah, fine, fine. Raise your face.”

Sigh… the “honor” of beholding the noble’s esteemed visage, and I feel utterly terrible.

Looking up, I smell the same arrogance as Marco, and the two other bankrupt womanizers and drinkers.

“Is this Fleming related to the Marquis Fleming of Korche?”

“Impudent wretch!”

At the same moment, a sharp smack sound came from behind.

“W-What… are you wearing magically enchanted clothes?”

The man who seemed about to hit me spoke. The man in front of me extended his palm, and from behind, what was placed in it… was a whip.

Without hesitation, it was swung down at my face with a crack, echoing through the dungeon.

They were surprised I didn’t flinch, but if they want to play rough, there’s no need to hold back against nobles.

I used [Whirlwind!] to spin the man in front of me, and the four around—two on each side and two behind—were also wrapped in the whirlwind.

The men waiting outside the basement were drawn inside using the whirlwind, and all others outside the cell were captured the same way.

There was no one else in the basement, so I could now let “Lord Fleming” explain herself thoroughly.

I stripped the magic from the man in front and the one who seemed like a butler outside the cell.

The first man sat down limply, pale and trembling, and I bound him behind his back. The butler-like man was bound the same way.

When the whirlwind vanished, the “color timer” must have run out, and everyone collapsed, vomiting.

At this rate, they wouldn’t be moving properly for some time.

I wrapped the count and the butler in a dome, securing them, before beginning the interrogation.

I kicked the man who was struggling, clearing his head.

“You said you’re Count Fleming. What is your relation to the Marquis Fleming?”

“You… kicked my head! I will make you regret, lowborn, kicking a noble like me!”

“Regret? That depends on your answer. If you don’t respond to my previous question, you’ll get burned badly.”

I conjured a small flame near the count’s face. He staggered back, surprised by the dome walls.

“You can’t see it, but you, the man next to you, and I are all protected by a small barrier. Until you answer my question honestly, the flames will continue.”

“Kukukuku. This is still my mansion’s dungeon. No matter how strong a barrier spell may be, you cannot escape my mansion.”

True, that would be the case with a barrier spell.

They would never guess I’m using wind magic to create a dome and trap them—there is a way to escape.

“Confident, huh? But it seems you have no intention of answering my question.”

I tugged the front of his trousers and dropped the flame inside.

The count watched in horror and stammered, “W-Wait!” but his son’s “fire torture” had already begun.

“Ahhh, it’s burning!”

He tried desperately to wiggle away, but the flame inside the trousers couldn’t be escaped… spilling from the burned hole.

“You will regret this, even if you beg for mercy—I will make it feel so much worse than death. But I will not kill you! I will give you as many potions as needed. Watching you scream will make my drink taste even better.”

“From the moment I saw you, I knew you had this kind of personality. Enjoy all your silly little dreams, but are you really not going to answer my question?”

He spat at me in response, so I tossed a small flame into his mouth.

**********************

“He’s going to be okay, right?”

“Probably. If he weren’t, he wouldn’t have said, ‘Tell Jaeger-san and the Guild master about this.’”

“Why does that mean he’ll be okay?”

“Jaeger-san—he’s in the royal capital. He and I will report this incident to the Guild master there. What do you think happens when two high-ranking adventurers report noble oppression to the guild?”

“Do you think the guild will really act on that?”

“Even if they don’t complain to the kingdom, the fact that we reported it remains. With that dome, Leon won’t be taken down by minor things, and judging by his expression, he probably has a trick up his sleeve.”

“True. The dome, the shelter, the ring… even seeing it in action, his use of wind magic is unbelievable. On top of that, he seems to have boundless knowledge of magic.”

“And there’s the whole sensing-presence thing. The first time we met, I couldn’t sense a thing from him. The next time, he was surrounded by countless presences, and then back to normal after that.”

“I’ve seen many people carrying presences before, but one, maybe two at most—and they never just disappear like that.”

“He’s a strange one, that’s for sure.”

“So we’ll report this to the Guild master in the royal capital with Jaeger-san and check on Leon’s status.”

“We saw him get taken, so there’s no way they can claim ignorance.”

***************************

Because I burned the inside of his mouth, he couldn’t speak properly and could only glare and groan.

I pulled a potion weaker than basic from my magic pouch and shook it in front of him.

“You get the idea, right? I’m a poor adventurer, so I can’t say I’ll let you drink as many potions as you like, but… do you want it?”

He alternated between glancing at me and the potion, groaning, his eyes darting with a cunning expression.

Unfortunately, I already knew the movements of the man behind him through my perception.

I held up my index finger, spun it in a circle, and shouted [Whirlwind!], wrapping the approaching man in the whirlwind and spinning him again.

He bit his lip, grimacing at the burn inside his mouth.

Even if he tried to attack me without me noticing, the dome would protect me, but I had no obligation to tell him that.

The other knights watching the spinning man, as well as the one pretending to be weak on the ground, had no courage to abandon their master and flee.

Their hatred toward me was overflowing, so it was obvious they were looking for any opening.

I placed a flame in front of his burnt trousers; he panicked, leaning his body to drop the flame.

Trying to retreat to escape the flame, he seemed to remember he had nowhere to go.

I floated flames in front of his nose and on both sides of his body.

“These are practical-use flames. I can make as many as I want, so I’ll roast you until you’re charred. Nod if you’re willing to answer my question honestly. I’ll even let you drink a potion to make it easier to talk.”

With multiple flames floating in the confined dome, his face was hot—but thanks to the temperature-regulating magic, only his face felt the heat.

The butler-like man was sweating profusely and trembling, but he deserved it for serving such a foolish noble—no sympathy here.

“Uwaaaah! Sh-shahelo… shahelo karo!”

Desperately shaking his head and pleading, I dispelled the flame’s magic and opened a hole in the dome to let the heat escape.

For anyone attempting a stealthy escape, I presented a high-speed [Whirlwind!] and kept the ones pretending to be dead in check.

I poured a potion weaker than basic into the count’s mouth, and he drank it desperately.

Once he caught his breath, I stopped the whirlwind spinning the man next to him.

From within the whirlwind, blackened with blood spray, a pale-faced knight tumbled out, screaming.