While this conversation was going on inside the mansion, the battle of the Golden Forest drew to a close.
Over ninety thousand lay dead atop the ground, filling the earth with rivers of blood, offering the forest a bountiful harvest of blood and souls.
The Wardens and common soldiers who still had the energy began grabbing the loot from the dead soldiers, as such was their right. To keep any coins they found and keep part of the loot for themselves.
Over two thousand soldiers of the enemy army had been captured and taken as hostages to be questioned. A basic camp had been made for them.
Even though it was called a camp, one could have seen clearly that the pigs and chickens that the commoners raised had better conditions than those men had.
It did not matter to Blood Denegis. Such honors, such as comfortable imprisonment, were reserved only for those deserving of them. And these men were not.
They butchered a village, leaving fire, ash, and corpses behind. Using their blood as paint for their disgusting masks of steel.
"Sir Tun, could you help me out with the questioning?" asked Ponca as he entered one of the two tents that were placed near the enclosure where the captured soldiers stood.
"Sir Ponca, I see you are all in one piece, that is good," replied Tun.
Tun was a younger man, in his early twenties, a Warden who had well…. interesting taste in the weapons he chose to master and use in fights, as well as the reasons for it. For that, Elion offered him an intel gathering position between the Wardens. And he was greatly respected for it. Even though his methods were questionable in the eyes of many.
"By the grace of the Vita, not a scratch touched my skin. I could not say the same for Young Blanc, though." Ponca mentioned.
"Did the Young Lord get wounded heavily?" asked Tun, while he was polishing his weapons.
"You could say that. But valiant. The brat jumped in front of a sword for his soon-to-be wife," said Ponca.
Tun looked thoughtful for a second, "What was her name? It slips my mind for some reason."
"Celine of Blood Maroux," replied Ponca, "dangerous stuff."
"Ah, yes, yes," muttered Tun, remembering it as soon as he heard it, "thank the Vita for Young Blanc in that case. If the Iron Line did not kill us, the Marouxs would have surely done so if one of theirs had died just days after getting engaged."
"True that." Ponca nodded, "It surprised me, though, seeing Young Blanc fight so well. I thought he would doom us all. I made preparations for my family to leave if I did not return. Just in case, you know?"
"Cowardly, but respectable. Still, I did not expect the Young Lord to have such talent in him. It seems he is truly of Blood Denegis," thought Tun out loud, as he finished preparing his weapons, "Either way. Bring the first one in."
"Sir Tun, before that. Can I ask you something?" asked Ponca, gathering his courage.
"What?" replied Tun.
"Why are the tents so close to the captured?" wondered Ponca.
At his question, Tun laughed, picking up a few nails from the table and playing with them in his hand, "But of course, so they can hear."
"Feel like talking yet?" asked Tun to the man who was stripped naked and strapped to the wooden table in front of him.
"I do not know anything. We've just done what we've been ordered. I swear to you." The man tried explaining.
"And who ordered you? What other orders have they given you? Answer these two questions truthfully, and I will let you go. Otherwise, forgive me for not showing mercy." Tun smiled, showing his white teeth to the man, who began shivering seeing him.
"I, I do not know. AHHH!" the soldier replied before a sharp pain traveled through his body as Tun hammered a nail right under his toenail. Every hit of the hammer made the soldier yelp in pain until his voice cracked, making him pass out.
"This is getting repetitive already," Tun muttered to himself. "This is the eighth one, and still nothing. Wake up, sleeping beauty," he added as he dropped a bucket of water on the naked body of the man.
The man jolted up. Or at least tried to, as the straps made him slam back into the table before he remembered the nail that pierced his toe, making him yell again.
"Shut the fuck up," said Tun, punching him in his mouth, "Ponca, get this fucker back outside and bring me someone that looks like he has important stuff to say."
"By the fucking Vita, Sir Tun, your methods are… unique. The first two are dead. Smashed their heads on a rock because of the pain," muttered Ponca, seeing the nail now embedded in the man's toe.
"Tell these fuckers I have enough nails for the fucking lot of them. Tell them that if they tell us what we want to hear, they will be free of this pain. How about that, Sir Ponca? Will you do that for me?" spat Tun, frustrated with the results so far.
"I'll see what I can do. You two, just cut his throat and throw him next to the others," replied Ponca before ordering two other Wardens while he turned towards the captured men.
The captured men were scared, with each new man tortured, each yell, and each hit of a hammer hitting metal or bone making them more scared and more willing to speak.
"Hello again, you traitorous bastards. You see…" Ponca began, exhaling dramatically, "You've made my good friend Tun inside very, very angry with your unwillingness to share what we want to know. Most likely, you've heard the quantity of nails at his disposal and his willingness to fill your ugly bodies to the brim with them. Do me a favor, would you, and I promise you that the one who gives us the information willingly or who tells us who between you has the information we need, not only will be excused from Tun's questioning, but they will be set free. How about it?"
Twenty of the captured soldiers began yelling, each speaking louder than the other, trying to be heard by Ponca. But the look of one of them jumped in his eyes as being slightly different than the rest of them.
"You, the bastard with the weird chest-plate, speak. The rest of you keep silent," ordered Ponca.
"I am a woman, sir. And second, I have the information you desire. Will you keep your word if I share it willingly?" asked the woman who had her face and chest hidden behind iron.
"Depends on whether my friend Tun finds your words worth sparing lives for. Let's find out, shall we?"