In A Fantasy World I Can Absorbs Abilities

Chapter 51 Interrogation

As if nothing had happened, the robed man turned to one of the undead and took a fragile figure into his arms. Then, his gaze shifted to the Mandragora Expedition.

It was him—the grandfather.

Michael stepped forward with an awkward smile, but before he could speak, a shadowy whip lashed out like lightning, narrowly missing his head and extending far behind him.

Moments later, the whip returned, dragging with it a man clad in priestly robes.

Startled, Michael hurried to the old man's side. Alfred, standing over the priest with one foot planted on his chest, spoke with a cold expression.

"What are you doing here? You should be with your unit."

"Well, I was hoping to earn a little extra on the side," Michael replied sheepishly.

"No matter. I was looking for you anyway. You can come back with us."

"Who is this person you've captured?" Michael asked.

"He was running toward us suspiciously, so I grabbed him."

Alfred glanced down at the priest, who groaned in pain beneath his foot. Pressing down harder, Alfred prompted a strangled wheeze from the man.

"This is no time for this! Call Sir Xenon immediately! Ugh, they're planning something catastrophic!" the man croaked.

Alfred applied more pressure.

"That's not the tone of someone asking for a favor," he said coolly.

"P-please… I beg you! I…"

The priest, Orpheus, hesitated, unsure of how to introduce himself. Should he claim to be a priest of the Outsider? Or one of Radiance?

While he wavered, Alfred's foot pressed down even harder.

"Argh! Stop! Please stop! This is no time for this!"

Though he had ignored the suffering of Crowley's people, Orpheus couldn't endure his own pain. Alfred's indifferent gaze bore into him.

"Judging by your appearance, you're a dog of Radiance. What are you doing here, hiding under the guise of the Outsider?"

Orpheus's face turned pale. How does he know? Wait… that robe's emblem…

Before he could complete his thought, Michael grabbed Alfred's wrist.

"Wait a moment, Grandfather," he said.

Orpheus was about to feel relief—finally, a voice of reason—but Michael's next words wiped away that hope.

"Let me handle the interrogation. There's something I've been wanting to try," Michael said with a mischievous grin.

Alfred's lips curled into a proud smile as he looked at his ever-resourceful grandson.

"Well done, my boy," he said.

In the end, torture wasn't necessary. Every one of them, be it this man or that, was so cowardly that they confessed before a single finger could be broken.

"So, you're saying that the blood quill's seal was broken, and it was handed over to that Necromancer named Leonardo by the papacy itself?" Michael asked, lifting a stick threateningly.

Orpheus, who had been watching for any sign of danger like a nervous rat, spoke up immediately as he saw Michael holding the stick. He couldn't bear the thought of his fingers being caught between that stick again.

"Yes, that's correct. I was only following orders from above. Everything came from the brains of the papacy's upper echelons. All they care about is donations and expanding their influence," Orpheus confessed hastily, hoping to lessen his guilt.

But his attempt to shift blame crumbled quickly.

"Shut your mouth, you scoundrel! How dare you insult His Holiness the Pope? Wasn't it your proposal to begin with?" Xenon, who was tied up beside him, managed to lift his bound legs and kick Orpheus, sending both of them sprawling to the ground.

"Enough! If I catch you lying one more time, I won't let you off so easily," Michael warned. "Every word will be cross-verified by the fifty-two others here, so stick to the truth."

Orpheus, realizing there was no hope of escaping this predicament, tried another angle.

"Uh… but, my lord, we should capture those heading toward Crowley's estate first. They're planning something truly catastrophic—"

"There's no need to worry about that," Michael interrupted. "Grandfather and the other knights are already on their way to intercept them. All you need to do is tell the truth."

Orpheus's heart sank. He had been hoping for a chance to escape amid the chaos of a skirmish. But if "Grandfather" referred to the man he thought it did, there was no hope left.

He gave up quickly. With so many potential victims around, resistance was futile. Loyalty to the papacy? Faith? None of that mattered in the face of physical pain. Orpheus had never been particularly devout; he became a clergyman only because his father was a high-ranking priest in the papacy.

"I'll answer everything truthfully—just please, no torture," he pleaded. "The Knight Commander knows nothing. He's an ignorant brute who can barely wield a sword properly."

His craven nature shone through as he immediately betrayed others to save himself. Xenon, tied beside him, fumed and spat in frustration, but Orpheus paid no mind.

"You're quick to adapt. Good. Now, who currently possesses the blood quill?" Michael asked.

"The blood quill is with Elder Priest Nicholas. He uses it to paint symbols on the faces and bodies of the priests and to communicate with the Outsider embedded in the quill," Orpheus explained.

"So, you're saying that all of you are acting independently, united only by a shared goal?" Michael probed further.

"Yes, that's correct. When the papacy first devised this plan, they sought individuals with an affinity for the Outsider. Among the candidates, Leonardo seemed the easiest to manipulate and the simplest to understand."

"He had already been in contact with an Outsider, and once we realized the ability granted by that Outsider was persuasion, the plan took off. We approached him, encouraged the formation of a new religion, and used the excuse of reforming bandits to contact Nicholas."

"Nicholas was a criminal we often hired for dirty work and led a gang of bandits, who were subsequently turned into priests of the Outsider."

"But we never expected Nicholas to become so consumed by the blood quill's pleasures. Now, he's lost himself to its allure and plans to sacrifice the… entity in our possession. I know I'm not in a position to say this, but that madness must be stopped. Please, show mercy."

"Ha! You're not doing this out of concern for others. You're just worried you'll get caught up in the aftermath," Michael retorted sharply.