A Snake’s Life Ch 93

Chapter 93

When Ian arrived with the items Zerpell had ordered, they headed for the detention center. It was a secluded place, and so quiet that it was clear the soundproofing was excellent. The knight standing guard in front of the facility yawned widely, clearly tired. However, upon seeing Zerpell, the drowsiness vanished from his face, and he immediately stood at attention with wide eyes.

“Has there been any trouble?”

“N-No, sir! None at all.”

At the knight’s firm reply, Zerpell let out a short sigh. The knight looked at him in confusion.

“Truly, no problems at all?”

Zerpell glared at him. Cold sweat began to trickle down the knight’s back as Zerpell’s eyes narrowed.

In truth, just a few hours ago, the knight had accepted bail money and released a few nobles. Since many nobles had been imprisoned, he had assumed it wouldn’t be noticed. His heart thudded anxiously.

Zerpell let out a deep sigh. Because his own knight order had been dispatched to search the nobles’ residences, they were short on manpower, which had led him to request assistance from another order—thus resulting in this incident.

“Enough. I can find out later.”

Zerpell brushed past the knight with a warning glance. The knight flinched and carefully opened the door. As it creaked open, a chorus of screams and shouting poured out.

“Let’s go.”

Ignoring the noise, Zerpell walked forward in silence. The imprisoned nobles, hearing the approaching footsteps, rushed to grab the bars, shaking them in desperation, hoping someone had come to rescue them. Despite the variety of people locked inside, their cries were all the same. Every last one insisted they were innocent.

Zerpell recalled Aiden’s former nanny. Ian shouted for silence, but it seemed no one heard him, for the clamor continued unabated.

“Seems they truly can’t hear.”

Their eyes were unfocused, as though they had lost all reason. Zerpell clicked his tongue at the noise. He glanced down, concerned that Shuiren might wake, but she was still sleeping soundly, her breathing steady. Preparing for the impact of the upcoming sound, he carefully cradled her head. Then, he held out his hand to the knight following behind.

“Your sword.”

“P-Pardon?”

The knight was startled—did Zerpell intend to deal with the nobles himself? Anxious but unwilling to fall further out of favor, he handed over his sword with trembling hands. Ian, too, widened his eyes in surprise when Zerpell took the blade. Zerpell raised the sword high, and the knight shut his eyes tightly.

Zerpell brought it down forcefully—not with the blade but with the back of the sword—against the iron bars. A loud clang reverberated as metal slammed into metal.

The bars, unable to withstand the blow, bent inward. The knight swallowed hard.

A silence fell so deep it was as though one could hear insects crawling.

“Much better.”

Zerpell gently removed his hand from Shuiren’s head and tossed the sword back to the knight, who scrambled to catch it.

“Ian, where’s the merchant?”

“Ah… This way, please.”

The merchant had been imprisoned in the deepest part of the dungeon for his serious crimes. Zerpell and his party soon stood before him.

“You should be grateful you’re a noble.”

Though only a baron—low in rank—the merchant was still a noble, a subordinate of the marquis. He seemed to have endured all manner of humiliation and now sat in a daze, staring blankly at Zerpell, an expression of resignation on his face unlike the other nobles.

“Ian, give him what I told you to prepare.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ian silently tossed the paper and pen he had brought in front of the merchant. Then Zerpell spoke in a low voice.

“Write down everything you know.”

The merchant, who had been bowing his head, slowly lifted it. He bit his lips hard. If he could speak, he would have done so already.

“I… cannot speak.”

He had tried multiple times. At first, swayed by Shuiren’s words, he had tried to confess, but no sound would come out. Only later did he realize that the marquis had placed a spell on him. Having heard from Ian that the marquis had disappeared with the help of a mage, he had long since given up hope that the marquis would come to rescue him.

Zerpell stared at the merchant and pointed to the paper with his chin.

“Then write it. Why do you think I brought the paper? I already know you’re under a speech-restriction spell. Even if your mouth doesn’t work, your hands still can.”

Zerpell’s voice echoed in the silent space.

So that’s why…

Ian stared blankly at Zerpell, realizing something he hadn’t considered. The merchant seemed equally startled. He hastily laid the paper on the floor, picked up the pen, and began to write. Unlike his mouth, his hands moved freely, and he began documenting the marquis’s crimes in detail.

“If you provide detailed information about the mage, we might even offer some leniency. The same goes for the rest of you.”

Murmurs began to rise from the surroundings. At first, no one spoke, suspicious of Zerpell’s true intent. But when he added, “Don’t you want to get out of here?” the nobles, one by one, began to ask about the deal.

“L-Leniency? What do you mean?”

“You’ll be released from here.”

“R-Really?!”

“Of course. Not only will you be freed from this place, but your crimes might also be considered more lightly in court.”

For them, this place was unbearable. Zerpell’s words were like a ray of light in the darkness.

“But only if you give me information.”

“What kind of information do you want?”

One of the nobles, now hopeful, asked eagerly. Zerpell leaned casually against the wall and tilted his head.

“Anything will do. Anyone even slightly related to this matter—those who arranged auctions for you, those who bought slaves. Any information that proves useful will lessen your sentence.”

A chilling silence fell. So many nobles were locked up together that no one knew who was beside them, but it was certain that some of those involved were here. The one who spoke up first could end up being betrayed. As the invisible tension built, one noble suddenly raised his hand high, volunteering to speak.

Zerpell signaled Ian, who handed the man paper and a pen. Since they were in solitary cells, no one could see what the others were doing behind the walls. As the scribbling of pens filled the space, nobles—mentally exhausted from their dark imprisonment—began accepting Zerpell’s terms one by one.

Those with guilty consciences worried their names might already be written down and decided it was better to confess first to receive leniency. Others simply wanted to escape this hell as soon as possible.

“Y-Your Highness! I’ve finished writing!”

The merchant had already filled the paper with dense writing. He handed it over, having written down everything he knew.

“Is there nothing more?”

“I’ve written all that I know. Then, may I now…”

The merchant looked at him with a hopeful expression, face flushed with expectation. Zerpell glanced at him briefly, then gave a signal to the knight. The knight pulled out a ring of keys and unlocked the cell. The iron bars opened with a loud clang.

“You’re free to go.”

“T-Thank you!”

The merchant’s voice of gratitude echoed through the underground chamber.

“There’s a knight outside.”

“Yes!”

He bowed deeply and ran out, as though afraid someone would change their mind and pull him back. The remaining nobles, who had doubted whether he’d truly be released, were thrown into an uproar at the sound and sight of his escape.

“Your Highness! Any information at all? I—I have something to tell you!” Now that someone had been released, everyone raised their hands in desperation. The prison grew noisy once more, and the sounds echoed throughout the space. Zerpell furrowed his brow. They reached through the bars, shouting for paper.

“Silence.”

The power of Zerpell’s voice was evident in the way the chaos instantly died down.

“Do not make a racket. What if he wakes up because of your noise?”

The nobles were confused but shut their mouths. They were in no position to protest.

“Ian, hand out paper one by one. One sheet won’t be enough. You—give me the keys and go bring more paper and pens.”

The knight hurried out to fetch supplies, while Ian moved between cells distributing writing materials. Ian passed out pens and paper, while the knight collected the completed sheets and opened the cell doors.

One by one, the nobles traded information for their release. The once-chaotic prison now brimmed with silence. Ian looked at the newly piled documents and swallowed a sigh. He tapped the papers into a neat stack.

“Your Highness, you’re very skilled at lying. You never really intended to grant them leniency, did you?”

Zerpell glanced sideways at Ian and replied,

“I said I might. I never said I would. That’s not a lie. And in exchange, didn’t they get out of the prison? Tell Cedric—there’s plenty of room in the cells. Go round up more nobles.”

“You’re planning to do this again?”

“Don’t ask the obvious.”

Their conversation echoed in the prison, unheard by the nobles.