Chapter 165 - What Happened in the Kant Territory (2/2)

“…Although I believe that they could really come up with such a thing given the moral outlook of those aristocrats, to really do so isn’t quite possible.” Gawain waved his hand as the corner of his eyelid twitched. “Farmlands used to plant magical medicine usually cannot be hidden. Outsiders can spot them at one glance. Moreover, using living humans as fertilizer cannot increase the concentration of the magical environment either. —What kind of black magic would it be?”

Gawain was speaking when Betty’s voice suddenly came from outside the tent. “Lord! Lord! Pittman is here for you!”

Gawain faltered. Recalling the task that he had handed to the Druid earlier, a smile could not help but appear on his face. “It seems like his ‘special ointment’ has worked.”

As he had long expected that the average interrogation would do nothing to those mercenaries, Gawain had requested Pittman to come up with a way to tackle those two ‘captives’ right from the very start.

The Druids weren’t an occupation skilled in ‘interrogation’. Their spells in this aspect couldn’t be compared to those believers of the Blood God or those undead Mages whose expertise were in torture and the ways of anguish. However, if one could just change one’s way of thinking, ‘interrogation’ wasn’t the only way of getting information.

At least in Gawain Cecil’s memories, there were lots of methods of digging the information out of the enemy with the help of Druid potions and rites. Even though 700 years had passed, these methods still worked very well.

In a little hut that was used as a temporary prison, Gawain met the two captives who had potions forced down them, ointment smudged on their foreheads, and also inhaled ritual incense for a good hour.

These two people were already in a state of delirium by this time.

Pittman still stood at the side with a conceited look. “I told you, my potions and rites are all very effective, especially this incense. Even the strongest person would lose himself in its magical power…”

It was indeed as the little old man had said, the entire room was suffused with the fragrance of an incense that was so thick that it was almost nauseating. Even though Pittman’s rite had ended and this incense no longer possessed the power of interfering with the mind, this smell still had Gawain frowning hard. Even Amber made a big fuss beside him. “Wah—— old man, are you about to make smoked meat?”

“With the way you’re doing the smoking, most people would’ve come clean without even needing to chug the potion.” Gawain had to add an aura protection effect for himself before he dared to stand still in the room. “I’m even suspecting that this rite of yours is simply smoking the people till they’re unconscious. What has it got to do with magic…?”

Pittman nodded as he chuckled. “You’ve really hit the point. ——Actually, I’d considered improving this spell many years ago. I believed that even without using magical medicine, just smoking the targets with excrement was also useful. —— Unfortunately, I was given a beating by my mentor when I came up with this idea back in those years. In the end, I had to give it up. But you’ve given me a reminder this time. Perhaps—”

“I dare you to try putting it into practice?!” Gawain instantly glowered at the little old man upon hearing him. “If you really smoke them with excrement for an hour, even if they would come clean, I wouldn’t want to question them!”

Pittman immediately shrunk his neck. He examined Gawain’s sinews and came to a preliminary judgment that this excavated legend could at least beat twenty of his mentor; thus, he decided to give up on his bold ‘reformed rite’ plan.

Meanwhile, Gawain was looking with a frown at the disorientated mercenary captives before him. They were staring at the ground in front of them with a lifeless gaze. The power of magic potion, ointment, and incense had dragged them into a state between reality and dreamland. In this state, they could no longer distinguish whether they were answering questions in reality or reviewing their memories in their dreams. Before the power of the magic faded away from their bodies, they would answer almost all questions.

“Was it the Kant Clan’s…?” Gawain questioned but suddenly forgot the name of the current patriarch of the Kant Clan once he began. Thus, he turned his head, slightly embarrassed. “Heidi, who is the current head of the Kant Clan?”

Heidi turned her head slightly. “Viscount Victor Kant. He’s an aged Viscount.”

“Yes, Victor Kant.” Gawain turned towards the two mercenaries. “He was the one who sent you to capture the slaves?”

The Mage of the two mercenaries still seemed to be a little resistant, but the head of the mercenaries spoke up first, “Yes… Viscount Victor Kant sent us to capture refugees in the wilderness for him… But it isn’t to make them slaves.”

“Not as slaves?” Gawain’s brows knotted. “Then what is it for?”

“To help him…” The head of the mercenaries initially answered with a dull gaze, but he suddenly lifted his head; his eyes fixed on Gawain, and he revealed a strange smile. “Enter his dreams, Lord Gawain Cecil.”