Rising god-Chapter 143: New Torture Method

The Iron Brotherhood’s second watchtower wasn’t hard to find.

Their strategy always placed one above ground and another hidden below, a secret betrayed by an abandoned well in the Blightroot Clan’s desolate southern fields.

The 7th Division, disguised as farmers, dove into the well’s depths, landing fifty meters down in a cavern of suffocating darkness. Without any words to themselves, their magic sparked, conjuring orbs of light that flickered around the surroundings, and with their perception, they could see seventy meters around them. The air was damp, heavy with the scent of mold and iron, meaning the enemies had been here, but no enemy presence stirred, no auras, no mana. Even as they spread to expand their perception, still nothing.

"They’re running that way," Baines suddenly said, his voice slicing the silence as he pointed into the darkness and ran after them.

"Hmm..." Rakel Voss, the division leader, glanced in the direction, his green eyes narrowing, and followed. The others exchanged brief looks before sprinting after.

His soul energy, now an authority honed by Extraction, pierced the darkness, revealing soul outlines over three hundred meters away, beyond a peak sixth-star’s 200-meter perception limit.

’I see them,’ Baines thought, marveling at his expanded perception. He used his soul energy, now an authority honed by Extraction, to focus on the soul outlines in this dark place, just for his perception to expand beyond its previous limit.

How he knew it was beyond his limit was that the enemies were over three hundred meters away, and a peak 6th star’s perception was about 200meters.

’Heaven Arc.’ His flowing steps—the silvers’ movement technique—carried him forward with the wind, a violent aura coiling around his blade. He swung, unleashing an arc of energy that tore through the cavern.

An Iron Brotherhood soldier turned, his fused armor glowing molten red, but the arc bisected him, blood and metal spraying. "Guak..." His dying gasp echoed, spurring the division to accelerate.

"Run!... We must ring the alarm!" a Brotherhood voice shouted.

"For the Brotherhood!"

Their shouts bolstered their escape to reach their destination, and to the 7th division, it only meant they were closer.

Twang...Twang...Twang.

Three arrows whipped past Baines, two striking enemies, felling them instantly, the third grazing stone. However, it didn’t stop there; more arrows whipped by.

The gap closed to a hundred meters.

The Brotherhood’s fifth-star leader, at the forefront, was shielded by his comrades to reach the alarm at his comrades’ sacrifice.

Then a voice behind Baines intoned.

"Solore Floris."

A golden waterfall erupted from a massive magic circle, its radiant torrent surging forward. It rushed with speed and force, matching Baines’s pace.

’Isn’t that?’ Baines recognized it. Though a smaller version, it was the spell that ended the war against the outliers. ’No wonder, he looked familiar,’ He was talking about Rakel Voss, who also had gold hair and green eyes, similar to that of the 5th imperial commander.

He let the waterfall pass him, and like he remembered, the waterfall passed him and continued its way, scattering enemies. The archers kept firing, thinning their ranks.

An arrow eventually struck the fifth-star’s leg, making him stumble, but he limped on, desperate for the alarm. But then, he was only an easier target. Baines had closed in, his blade gleaming.

The division swarmed the remaining foes, swords flashing in the dim light. Strangely, the Iron Brotherhood didn’t scream of their death, no, they faced it with hardened eyes.

Two minutes later, they regrouped, the cavern floor slick with blood. Baines dragged the fifth-star to the center, his leg wound oozing.

"Why haven’t you killed him?" Rakel asked, his voice low.

"Do you know the branch’s location?" Baines countered. In the reports, he hadn’t seen anything like that. It was the reason it was secret. To give them enough time to find the branch, plan an attack, and carry out the attack.

Rakel shook his head. "We were going to search after this." Then he pointed at the captured writhing man, "But don’t you know? The Brotherhood doesn’t break under torture," Not even by a Malakar could draw out the truth from them.

Baines had also read that part; however, he was just curious.

Baines knelt beside the man, whose armor pulsed faintly, fused to his flesh. "Just kill me," the man spat, defiant. "You’ll get nothing."

Baines’ curiosity burned. If he snapped their mana stream, could they still stay? Could snapping it break their resolve? He placed his hand on the man’s stomach, channeling his Extraction authority—soul energy.

It surged, a violet current ravaging the man’s body, mapping his mana streams with surgical precision. ’It worked.’ Baines mused. He had only guessed to use his soul energy, and the streams glowed in his mind, the fragile threads from the man’s core, leading around his body.

"For the last time, where is your branch?" Baines asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

"Go to hell."

Twang. ƒreewebηoveℓ.com

Baines snapped a stream, severing it like a taut wire. The man’s scream tore through the cavern, a guttural

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Blood flooded his mouth, veins bulging across his forehead, threatening to burst. His body convulsed, armor creaking as his core destabilized, aura leaking in chaotic spurts. The pain was a living thing, clawing through his nerves, shredding his sanity. The division stepped back, their faces pale, the sound of snapping mana streams was like a bone breaking in their minds; however, Rakel edged closer, eyes narrowing.

"You have five more chances," Baines said, snapping another stream. Twang.

The man’s eyes rolled back, spasming dozens of times in seconds, his mind fracturing under the agony. With nothing left to pass aura through, it leaked out of the core. Baines even regulated the blood flow to prevent any sudden death, his control chillingly precise.

’Is this what happens if I snapped it without separating it first?’ he mused, noting the chaos raging in the man’s body. His current body was unfixable. If Baines released his blood control on him, he would die instantly.

"Are you ready to speak?"

Twang. The third stream snapped.

"GAHHHHHHHH! STOP! STOP!" The man’s scream was raw, animalistic, his body writhing as blood and tears streamed from his eyes.

The pain transcended torture. He was feeling the raw force from the pain, both on his body and his spirit. His armor, once a shield, now trapped him in torment, its molten glow flickering erratically.

Baines snapped the fourth. Poop.

The man’s eyeballs burst, pressure exploding them like overripe fruit, crimson mixing with tears. Feces and vomit spilled from him, his body a wreck of waste and agony, blood leaking from nose, ears, and mouth.

Despite all that, Baines regulated the outflow, keeping him alive, his expression unyielding. The division, except Rakel, turned away, unable to stomach the brutality. Even seasoned Red Sun soldiers flinched at the grotesque torture redefined as a merciless dissection of life itself.

"Will you talk?" Baines asked, admiring the man’s tenacity despite half his aura leaking out.

Twang...Twang.

The final streams snapped, tearing the man’s throat as he screamed, his vocal cords shredding to nothingness. Despite all that, relief flickered in his fading consciousness. He’d die without betraying his brothers.

But Baines wasn’t done.

"Are there any healers?" Baines asked the division members, and two ladies came forward. In each division, there were healers from the church. They closed their eyes and healed the man’s wounds with a face full of pity for their enemy.

They channeled their golden light to mend the man’s wounds, restoring his voice.

"Argghhh!" His screams resumed, residual pain searing his nerves. "W-What are you doing?" he rasped, terror spiking as Baines’s hand moved to his groin.

"You have six here," Baines said, his voice like a cold blade.

The man’s eyes widened, horror consuming him.

The groin—his final bastion of endurance—couldn’t withstand such pain. No one could withstand it.

His defiance shattered, the prospect of further agony broke his spirit as he screamed,

"NOOOOO! I’LL TALK!"

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