What did Durnholde have the most of before?
The answer is: prisons.
As a containment facility specifically built to hold Orcish prisoners of war, the entire Durnholde was practically a large prison.
Since Thrall breached this place last year, its prisons have been empty.
But that's not the case now.
The two female assassins who attempted to assassinate Aiden were the first residents of the old prison after the reconstruction of Durnholde.
Not two days later, a familiar face moved in next door to them.
"Lord Farad, what are you doing here...?" The gnome female assassin looked in surprise at the middle-aged man being led into the prison in shackles.
He looked dejected, wearing a prison uniform, and seemed listless.
The two carefully scrutinized him before realizing that this was actually the master thief Lord Farad from the manor!
Farad was locked up opposite them.
Hearing the gnome female assassin's exclamation, he raised his head and glanced at them: "No choice, I was outmatched."
The bitterness in those words was truly hard to express.
The two still didn't know that his true identity was an adult black dragon, let alone that he was easily defeated even when he transformed into his black dragon form with all his abilities.
He wasn't planning on telling the two female assassins about such an embarrassing thing.
To him, that memory was simply a nightmare.
That angel leader was right, after their formal attack, he really felt that even breathing freely became difficult.
The burns all over his body under the prison uniform were still stimulating his nerves.
As obsidian dragons, black dragons can not only breathe fire and scorching lava, but they themselves are also not afraid of fire at all.
However, the unique holy flame of the angels was not fire in the ordinary sense.
Every time he was hit, Farad felt like his soul was being roasted.
The pain was indescribable.
So even after transforming back into his true form, he couldn't resist for long, and was quickly defeated and surrendered.
Of course, he would never tell anyone about such an embarrassing thing, even if he died.
Farad was worried.
It seemed that the lord here was indeed trying to destroy Ravenholdt.
Thinking of those three angels, and the lord who also possessed the power of holy flame, he felt that the unsuspecting assassins would most likely be wiped out in one fell swoop.
He no longer dared to regard Aiden as an assassination target, and he completely admitted his failure.
Perhaps before long, familiar faces from the manor would be meeting in this dungeon.
Farad's guess was soon confirmed.
At dusk, the departing soldiers escorted more than a hundred dejected prisoners back to Durnholde.
They were all thrown into the dungeon.
Farad saw familiar figures among them: Karl of the Ravenholdt Hand, Grandmaster Smude, the elven assassin Maggros, the scribe Winston…
He looked from beginning to end, but it seemed like one of the most important people was missing.
He whispered to Winston in the next cell: "Hey, what happened to Jorach?
Winston was visibly surprised when he recognized him: "Farad, you were caught too?
My God, Ravenholdt is finished."
He lamented, "The manor is finished, and the Duke is finished."
"He... died?" Farad's heart sank.
Winston shrugged: "Maybe, he was escorted away separately.
These people want to interrogate him.
You know, he's our leader, do you think the master here will let him go?
I don't think he'll be merciful enough to let go of the leader of an assassin organization who has attempted to assassinate him twice."
"...Only wish him good luck," Farad said.
Jorach Ravenholdt was brought before Aiden.
He looked at this famous assassin leader.
The Duke's gray hair showed that he was not young, but his body still looked very strong, with no signs of hunching.
Although he was captured in battle and looked a bit disheveled, he tried to maintain his image, making himself look a little bit like a nobleman with dignity.
Aiden stared at him: "Duke Jorach Ravenholdt? Please, give me a reason not to kill you!"
Ravenholdt snorted coldly and said: "You don't need to mock me, I know I will die, and since that's the case, don't even think about me revealing anything to you.
You can try to use torture to make me speak.
I have experienced many life-and-death trials in my life, and no one has ever pried open my mouth.
You can try to see if you will have such an opportunity."
These words sounded brave and unyielding, but Aiden always felt that the person who said these words was somewhat lacking in confidence, with a rather bluffing feeling.
"I admire your courage very much, and I also admire your stupidity.
Let me introduce one of my subordinates to you," Aiden pointed to Singed and said to Jorach, "This is Singed, the most powerful torture expert and chemical expert under my command.
Since you are unwilling to tell me happily, then I have no choice but to let him entertain you.
It's a pity, I originally planned to spare your life if you were sensible!"
Singed didn't know when he had gained the title of "torture expert," but he smiled sinisterly in cooperation and said: "Ah, great, I have another living experiment subject!
I have many new toys that I can't wait to experiment on, congratulations on getting this rare opportunity.
Which one should we start with?"
"Leave it to you, Singed," Aiden left the room.
He was going to find Lux and hear a specific report on the action.
Only Singed, four guards, and Duke Ravenholdt remained in the room.
Singed instructed a guard to tightly wrap Jorach's left little finger from the base, completely cutting off blood circulation. While watching the guard work, he explained to Jorach in a bland tone, "We'll test your psychological endurance first, so I can arrange a reasonable package for you. If you have enough willpower, we can play for a long time. Alright, let me explain the purpose of binding your little finger."
"When your finger is completely bound like this, your body won't be able to send blood to it. It will quickly become numb, making you lose sensation. At that point, even if I chop it off directly, you won't feel much pain. You should understand that I'm doing this for your own good. Don't worry, I won't let anyone chop it off directly. I'll apply grease to it, just like my guard is doing now. Then, I'll pick up this oil lamp and ignite your greased little finger. You'll watch it burn with your own eyes, until it burns away the flesh and reveals the bone. You'll smell its roasted meat aroma, but feel almost no pain. See, aren't I good to you?"
The guard followed instructions and applied grease to it. Now, that little finger, which was originally well-maintained, had turned bluish-purple due to the lack of blood flow, and reflected a greasy sheen after being coated with oil.
Singed picked up the oil lamp and opened the glass cover on top: "Now, I'll light it. Don't worry, it won't hurt much."
Jorach was very calm at first. He was very sure that he could endure the leather whip and branding iron for a long time, but he had never heard of the kind of punishment described by Singed. He watched his finger being bound, starting to swell, and then gradually becoming numb, completely unable to move. Everything was just as this vicious bandaged man had said.
The thought of them forcing him to watch his own little finger burn, smelling the aroma of his own flesh but feeling little pain, was even more terrifying than being branded with a hot iron. He knew that his face must be pale and covered in sweat. But he still stubbornly roared, "Come on, you better kill me, otherwise I will definitely peel off your skin little by little when you're conscious, and let you see how ugly your own skin really is!"
"Oh, that's so scary! So, are you afraid? Get ready, we're about to start." Singed's hoarse voice was like a death knell. The flame of the oil lamp ignited Jorach's greased little finger, and then quickly burned.
He felt a slight burning pain, like putting his hand too close to the fireplace, a completely bearable pain. It wasn't even as painful as being pricked by a needle, but he screamed in terror, "Demon, pervert, no, no! Kill me, kill me!"
Singed comforted him: "Don't worry, I haven't had enough fun yet. We still have a dozen experiments to go. I guarantee that each one will be more exciting than this one. I believe you will never forget it!"
The guard forced Jorach to stare at his burning little finger. After cursing for a while, he burst into tears, his mind close to collapse: "Stop, stop, I'll talk! I'll talk!"
"Wouldn't it have been better to listen earlier? You knew you couldn't hold on, but you had to try the punishment yourself. As the commander said, you really are a stupid fellow. You never shed tears until you see the coffin." Singed said a proverb he had learned from the commander, and found that it was really an apt description.
… …
"7 dead, 18 injured to varying degrees." Aiden saw the casualty statistics on the report. For the achievement of completely annihilating a long-standing assassin organization, such casualties were a complete victory. "Rebecca, I want you to create a roster specifically for recording the files of soldiers who died or were injured in battle, and issue compensation to their families in accordance with the compensation regulations. In the future, we will build a magnificent monument in this city, and then engrave the names of all those who sacrificed for our cause on it, so that future generations will remember the glory they won with blood!"
"Yes, Commander." Governor Rebecca agreed.
"By the way, the families of these soldiers…" Aiden then remembered that he had only summoned more than two thousand people from Valoran. The families of these soldiers should mostly still be frozen on the continent of Valoran, waiting for his summons. Who will receive the compensation if it is issued?
Aiden patted his head: "I overlooked it. I will summon the families of these soldiers tomorrow." He saw Rebecca hesitating to speak, and asked, "My governor, what do you want to say? Just say it."
This shrewd and capable female governor opened her mouth somewhat embarrassedly: "Um… I have a request… Commander, could you summon my son too? I miss him a little… Ah, if it's inconvenient, we can wait."
"No, no, I didn't consider it carefully enough." Aiden only focused on the talents he needed during the previous large-scale summons, and completely ignored that these people all had families. They had flesh and blood, and were not NPCs in the game. "Then, in the future, I will gradually summon the direct relatives of the existing Valoran residents as well. It's my fault that everyone can't reunite with their loved ones. From now on, I will summon them by family!"
"Long live the Commander!" The people present shouted in unison.
Only Lux's frantic voice was out of place: "No, no, I don't want my family to come here so soon!"