Chapter 8: Brute Force Method

Chapter 8: The Exhaustive Method

The bald, burly man clutched his wounded arm, letting out a blood-curdling scream.

Though the guards had no idea what had happened, seeing the man suddenly injured, they sensed an opportunity. They swarmed forward, using their numerical advantage to forcibly pin the burly man to the ground.

The man named Nashel yawned again, sheathed his sword, and wiped the sleepy tears from his eyes with the back of his hand.

—What the hell was that?!

Lyman watched with his jaw hanging open. The ability to hurt people from a distance—was his sword hilt also a "relic" with special powers? Or could his power create invisible blades?

He was wearing a white robe, so was he an Inquisitor of Heresy like Aether? Was Aether a superhuman too? Were there any other superhumans in this prison? With this many prisoners to control, they gotta have at least one or two, right?

No wonder Cape Prison was called the Holy Nation's most secure prison...

Damn it, why can't I get a skill like that? Book of the Evil God, you useless piece of crap, all you ever let me do is farm...

The guards tied up the burly guy, who'd passed out from blood loss, hands and feet. The head guard yelled, "Quick, get the guillotine ready! Trying to escape is a death sentence!"

But Aether shook his head. "Don't kill him. When the supply ship comes next month, I'm taking him back to the Holy City. All prisoners with supernatural abilities have to be sent to the Tribunal's Research Department."

What a terrifying place—sounds like a bunch of mad scientists holed up there doing human experiments every day. Lyman had no desire to be a lab rat alongside that bald, burly guy. He had to keep his own supernatural ability under wraps.

Deputy Captain Edton gave an exaggerated salute. "Yes, sir!"

Then he made a troubled face. "But to transfer a prisoner, we need the Warden's say-so..."

"Then where is the Warden?" Aether frowned. "We haven't seen hide nor hair of him since we got here! Is this how he runs Cape Prison?!"

The deputy shook like a leaf. "R-report! The Warden... he's not feeling well..."

Nashel rubbed his eyes and turned to head back upstairs. "If he's that sickly, he shouldn't be working in a godforsaken place like this... Huh?"

He suddenly stopped, bent down a little, and brought his emerald eyes level with Lyman's.

A bright smile spread across Nashel's face.

"So this is the prisoner you questioned?" He looked at Aether. "If I'd known he was such a good-looking prisoner, I'd have joined you for the questioning."

Aether said irritably, "You were supposed to be there with me from the start!"

"Why don't you question him once, then I question him again, and we take turns..."

Aether's eyes nearly rolled out of his head.

"Take him back to his cell!" He pointed at Lyman and barked at the guards.

Lyman wanted to ask if the promise of his release still stood, but his palm suddenly got warm. The Book of the Evil God seemed to be stirring, warning him that way.

Lyman dropped the subject. He knew saying more now would be pointless and might even make the Inquisitor think worse of him.

He kept playing the model prisoner, letting Deputy Captain Edton escort him back to the dark cell.

***

The Inquisitors' Temporary Office.

"Nashel, what took you so long?"

The first thing Aether did when he entered the office was chew out his partner. The two had arrived at Cape Prison by ship together that day, but Nashel had disappeared the moment he got off the boat.

"Oh, I got seasick, you know. I finally managed to get some sleep, and then someone woke me up."

Nashel closed the door behind him, running his fingers through his messy red hair as he looked around the office.

"They've set you up nicely here. Oh, there's even a fireplace!—How did the questioning go?"

Aether shook his head, walking behind the desk to pick up the documents he had written earlier.

"That prisoner is innocent. Those idiots from the Dawnlight Knights probably grabbed some innocent civilian to meet their quota. I can't figure out what goes on in their heads. No, wait—they don't even have a brain.—Nashel, stop playing with fire!"

Nashel dropped the fire tongs. "Heh, wiping out heresy is supposed to be our Tribunal's job, but the Knights beat us to it. They're desperate to prove themselves! To move up, you need merit; to earn merit, you need battle; but there's no war right now, so what are they supposed to do?"

"What a waste of my time." Aether's face fell. "The thought of spending a whole month in this godforsaken place makes me want to skewer those tin cans and roast them."

Nashel asked curiously, "So the prisoner is truly innocent?"

"He says he has amnesia. I used the 'Mouth of Truth.' He wasn't lying."

"This thing can't be broken, can it? Let me try!"

Nashel walked to the desk and stuck his hand into the mouth of the Lion Statue. "Aether is an ugly monster... Ow!"

He pulled his hand out with a grimace. "See, it says I'm lying. It's definitely broken."

"Stop messing with the relics!" Aether slapped his hand away. "I know there are ways to circumvent the 'Mouth of Truth,' but I'm no fool. After all these years as an Inquisitor, I can see through a liar at a glance. I observed him carefully—he showed none of the usual tells of a liar."

"But my friend, you gotta understand, 'he's a heretic' and 'he wasn't lying' aren't mutually exclusive." Nashel said with a grin.

"...What?"

"For instance, what if he really lost his memory and forgot he used to be a heretic?"

"Can amnesia completely change a person's personality?" Aether asked. "Do you know what he told me?"

"I'm all ears."

"He said that if he were guilty, he'd rather be locked up in prison than be released to harm others. In all my years as an Inquisitor, having questioned so many heretics, they either play dumb or desperately try to distance themselves and shift the blame. This is the first time I've seen someone willingly volunteer to go to prison. If he were a heretic, even with amnesia, could he be this... sincere and kind?"

Nashel flipped through the testimony with interest. "How interesting. A kind heretic, huh?"

"Stop messing with the testimony!"

Nashel reluctantly handed the testimony back. "Aether, do you remember that game we used to play? Using the exhaustive method to list all possibilities, then using evidence or logic to knock them down—the ones that can't be knocked down might be the truth."

"I remember." Aether let out a soft sigh, as if humoring his partner. "Alright, I'll play along with you once. Since you insist on suspecting he's a heretic, yet he's both kind and truthful, what could explain this? My first thought is that he was lured or coerced into the cult, and then forgot the experience due to amnesia."

Nashel stroked his smooth chin. "Hmm, quite possible. But Aether, did you notice this?"

He pointed at the report.

"In the report submitted by the Knights, it says that when Prisoner 1154 was captured, they confiscated from him a 'magnificent black robe' and 'various gold and silver ornaments.'"

Aether lowered his head in thought. "You mean, because he was adorned in finery, he held a significant position within the cult?"

"Exactly." Nashel tossed down the document. "Would you let someone who was deceived or coerced become a high-ranking member of the cult? To reach such a position, he must have at least joined voluntarily."

Aether pondered for a moment, then said, "That makes sense. So the possibility of involuntary induction is ruled out."

Nashel's face lit up with excitement, as if he had just won a round.

"I've thought of another possibility," Aether continued. "Prisoner 1154 was originally an upstanding citizen, but happened to resemble a high-ranking member of the cult, so he was dragged in as a stand-in. The real cult higher-up had already skipped town long ago."

"And left the followers behind to die?"

"Isn't that typical cult behavior?" Aether shrugged. "Followers are nothing but cannon fodder and tools to them. Using cannon fodder to delay the knights buys them time to escape."

Nashel's mouth turned down again. "Damn it, I can't figure out how to refute that possibility. Why do you always speak up for this prisoner? You sweet on that face of his?"

"I just don't want to wrong an innocent man!" Aether raised his voice in protest, though his ears flushed slightly red. "The Tribunal's been railroading too many innocent folks over the years, and folks are fed up and scared stiff. Now that I'm Senior Inquisitor, I want to fix this mess and clean up the Tribunal's rep..."

"Ah! I've thought of another possibility!" Nashel interrupted, ignoring the dirty look his partner shot him. "What if this guy's a spy? The cult set him up to get caught so he could stir up trouble inside?"

"Sending a guy with amnesia to spy?" Aether said, sounding exasperated.

"The amnesia was an accident! Maybe he's got some 'kaboom at the right time' Supernatural Ability on him, and the cult sent him to blow Cape Prison sky-high..."

Aether pinched the bridge of his nose. "Why don't you just say he can fool the Mouth of Truth, or sweet-talk me?"

"My friend, you hit the blind spot!" Nashel said gleefully. "Let me count—so far we got: he's genuinely an innocent man; he's a stand-in for a cult higher-up; he's a spy; he's a superhuman. So how do we prove or bust any of these?"

Aether frowned. "'That one' in Research can sniff out whether someone's got supernatural abilities, but getting him to haul ass all the way to Cape Prison? Yeah, right."

"So we're stuck with no evidence?" Nashel toyed with his red hair, thinking. "Why don't we just torture him..."

"Nashel! Don't you dare—"

"Oh, here we go again—the righteous, holier-than-thou Aether Orolan won't beat a confession out of anyone and won't execute a prisoner without evidence!" Nashel said in a singsong tone.

Aether shot him a look that was half annoyed, half helpless. "I know you think I'm a stick-in-the-mud, but I believe this is also a form of justice."

Nashel grinned and slung an arm around his shoulder. "I never said it was a bad thing. I respect that you stick to your guns. No evidence, huh? Then let's go dig some up."

"All the evidence is right here," Aether said, tapping the files on the table.

"No, no, my friend. The evidence is out there." Nashel spread his arms wide, sweeping to take in the whole prison.

"I don't understand."

"If Layman Vichard really is a cultist, he might try to preach to other prisoners or plan an escape. So we just put him among the other inmates and observe his behavior..."

"He'll slip up sooner or later," Aether finished for him.

"Exactly! You catch on quick!" Nashel gave him a hearty slap on the back.

Aether gathered the documents and turned to leave. "Then I'll go talk to the Warden. That useless sack—I'll nail him for dereliction of duty one of these days."

Nashel couldn't keep his hands off things; the moment his companion turned his back, he started rummaging through the files again.

"Hey, Aether, why didn't you mention this report from the knights?"

"What?" The blond Inquisitor stopped in his tracks.

"The Knight Captain said that when they stormed the cult's hideout, the followers were in the middle of a summoning ritual—calling a deity from another realm into our world. Haven't you read this report?"

Aether thought for a moment, then said, "Of course I have. What they were summoning was hardly a deity—more likely a demon or evil spirit. And the ritual must have failed, otherwise it would have been the knights who were slaughtered. Is this important?"

The Red-Haired Inquisitor set the document down thoughtfully.

"Summoning failed? Let's hope so, my friend." He looked up at the pale sun in the sky outside the window.

His next words were spoken so softly that even Aether didn't hear them:

"Otherwise, we're in deep trouble."