LIGHTNOVELONLINE Chapter 39
Chapter 39: The Captive Saint
――My first encounter was on the battlefield.
I’ll never forget, the defensive line of the Elf Forest.
Having repelled the vanguard made up of goblins, ogres, and beastmen, I was sitting alone on the ground, eating my meal in the temporarily restored peace of our position.
Then—suddenly, a pleasant scent wafted through the air.
Before I knew it, a girl with her hood drawn low was sitting next to me.
“Hey, you’re the Hero, right? Would you show me the Holy Magic of the Human Race?”
Deep within her hood, her jewel-like blue eyes sparkled with curiosity.
From the atmosphere, I realized she was a Forest Elf.
And I was used to this kind of situation.
It’s said that the reclusive Forest Elves often spent their long lives without ever interacting with other races. Since they could completely sustain themselves within the forest, they did not require contact with other races.
But that was the past—war with the Demon Lord’s Army had, for better or worse, changed that situation.
The Pan-Humanity Alliance was formed, and interactions became active. Young elves, eager for excitement, began to sneak out of their village to tease the soldiers of the Alliance.
At that time, I was utterly exhausted from intense combat. Dealing harshly with anyone was too much of a bother.
So, I gave up from the beginning and briefly lit a holy light on my fingertip.
I twirled my finger and created a simple flower pattern with white sparks.
“Are you satisfied now? Go home.”
I said, indicating that this was no place for a girl like her.
Although deep down I thought she must be older than me despite her youthful appearance.
“Actually, it can’t be helped. I’m, after all, your colleague,”
She replied, not minding my bewildered expression.
As if playing an invisible harp, she danced her fingers in the air.
I could only vaguely perceive it, but extremely advanced magic was being woven together.
Singing softly, she hummed words of prayer—placing her index finger to her lips, she blew a breath toward me.
Fresh magical power, a torrent of vitality.
It enveloped my entire being, and in an instant, my battered body, which had become like an old rag, was revived with energy.
“I’m Liliana,”
She said as she took off her hood.
“I’ve been dispatched from the Holy Great Tree Alliance, …so-called, a Saint.”
With a slightly shy smile, she seemed a bit embarrassed. Her ears were a tad longer and sharper than a regular elf’s. Her beauty was as delicate as a flower. Her skin was healthily sun-kissed.
“Hey, what’s your name—?”
That was the encounter with “Saint” Liliana—
†††
“That was truly a masterpiece, that pig-like scream from her!”
And now. I was in the depths of the Demon Lord’s Castle, listening to the dubious stories of a Night Elf, Sidarl, drift right to left.
It had been about seven years since the raid operation—during that time, how I had humiliated and tormented the Saint. He continued talking endlessly, even though I hadn’t asked.
I’ll skip the details… However, being thrown into a mass of goblins or having her skin peeled is less than one-hundredth of the suffering she endured, I’ll note.
“Good grief, I was surprised,”
I declared, cutting him off, no longer expecting any useful information from him.
“For just this one girl, this is quite excessive. Why such—”
…What should I say?
“—Why such measures?”
I glanced at the maid, Viene, who had silently followed along. She was looking at the exhausted Saint with a sadistic smirk. I already suspected she was on the other side.
“Thank you for asking!”
Sidarl replied, clapping his hands without being offended by the interruption.
“Actually, to reach this point, we have paid quite a few sacrifices—”
He glared at Liliana with irritation.
“—Of course, we made her regret it to the point of death.”
“Oh?”
“First, the limbs—this serves two purposes: preventing escape and disrupting magic.”
Sidarl picked up a sharp knife that was hanging on the wall.
“Like this,”
He casually plunged the blade into Liliana’s body. I nearly let out a scream myself, even though the pain was not mine—suppressing my voice.
Meanwhile, despite her abdomen being stabbed and gouged, Liliana merely let out a faint groan of “Ugh…”
“She won’t die from just a knife stab. Look,”
Sidarl pulled the knife out, dark blood gushing from her belly—a typically fatal wound, yet the bleeding quickly stopped, and the wound immediately began to close.
“That’s the power of Light Magic, a highly potent healing effect. Viene, some light.”
“Sure,”
Viene covered the lamp’s shade.
Then the prison was plunged into darkness—inside, Liliana’s pure white body and the blood pooling on the ground were the only things softly glowing. It felt like a fantastical scene—and I felt as if I were being shown a grotesque painting.
“With this incredible healing ability, even if her skin is peeled off or her limbs are severed, she’ll heal right away. Unless you cauterize the wounds with iron, she could even regrow her limbs, just like a lizard’s tail.”
The room returned to light. Wiping the knife’s blood with a cloth, Sidarl spoke in a tone of admiration mixed with disdain.
…I already knew. About her healing ability.
One of her strengths was being able to share this with others.
But now… that perseverance seemed only to work against her.
By the way, Forest Elves are known for their healthy sun-kissed skin—however, after being repeatedly skinned in a dark dungeon with no sunlight, Liliana’s skin had turned as white as a Night Elf’s. “I’ve robbed her of the blessings of the sun,” Sidarl laughed.
“Forest Elves weave magic, you see. Binding their limbs is an effective anti-magic measure. However, shortly after being confined here, that girl still hadn’t lost her rebellious spirit. She deliberately stopped her own healing and pretended to have lost her limbs, intending to escape when the watch was lax.”
A bitter and furious expression crossed Sidarl’s face.
“…Thanks to that, the lives of five precious young men were lost. They were burned by her Light Magic. She burned them!”
With the knife that he had just cleansed of blood, he impulsively slashed at Liliana’s torso. A bright red line appeared on her pure white skin, but it healed immediately.
“…So, that’s how we’ve bound her. Since she’s a High Elf, who knows what she might do. That’s where this rope comes in.”
The rope that was keeping Liliana in a half-hanged state.
“By adjusting the chains and their lengths, about half her weight is placed on her neck. This compresses the airway and carotid artery, causing her thoughts to be perpetually clouded. Even if the watch slackens a bit, as long as she’s left in this condition, she won’t be able to use magic nor hold her bowel movements.”
Of course, a normal person would die within hours, Sidarl remarked. This method was a sealing technique unique to the Holy Woman’s extraordinary healing ability…
“The problem with drugs is that one quickly develops a tolerance, so this method was optimal. While… torture could easily disrupt her magic if we inflicted pain on her around the clock—”
Here, Sidarl suddenly showed a hint of shame.
“Embarrassingly enough, it’s been a little over seven years since we captured her. The torture has become monotonous.”
“Torture has become monotonous?”
That was a combination of words I had never heard before…
I would have preferred never to hear such a combination in my lifetime…
“At first, we all took turns torturing her day and night. Yes, we broke her spirit, but—unfortunately, we have grown bored faster than anticipated.”
Even if he displayed such a personal embarrassment.
“The torture techniques we have developed focus on maximizing suffering in a short time frame. In other words, we ultimately intended for the subject to die. We never imagined we would torment such a filthy creature… Of course, we kept experimenting—”
Please, stop there! Enough with the experimentation!
“Our creativity has dried up. Yes, as I mentioned earlier, we have inflicted a wide variety of suffering on her.”
Certainly, I’d been treated to a story like the thick soup of malice. But perhaps that had been their “limit”…
“Thus, today, as Zilbagias-sama has graced us with his presence, it feels like some sort of fate or coincidence. Perhaps, as a member of the Demon Race, you could think of a different kind of torture…”
Saying this, Sidarl looked at me with hopeful eyes.
Oh no…
When I turned to Viene, her eyes sparkled with excitement too.
Oh no… What kind of situation is this? Give me a break.
No wonder permission had come through remarkably smoothly.
They wanted me to come up with new torture methods…