"Yeah, I told you, you can torture the traitors, right?" Mom said, still smirking at me with that sly look that meant she already regretted giving me permission.
"Aah, you mean we do it tonight? Really? Really, you mean it?" I asked, practically bouncing on my toes, my tail swishing wildly under my hoodie as I hopped around like a kid who'd just been told she could eat candy for dinner.
"Hehe… it seems you are excited," Mom said awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck as her smirk softened into something closer to a worried smile.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I be? I can finally implement magic into my torture methods!" I said, grinning from ear to ear.
"That's true," Mom admitted, smiling wryly, though her eyes betrayed the faintest twitch—as if she was imagining the mess I was about to make.
"So what time are we doing it?"
"Later. For now, go shower. You are still full of blood," Mom said, pointing at the mansion with a raised brow.
"Okay!?" I chirped, already sprinting off like a bullet, ignoring the sticky rust-colored stains clinging to my baggy hoodie and cargo pants.
Mom chuckled softly behind me. "What a child, haha."
[Later that night]
It had been thirty minutes since Mom and I entered the forest. The heavy canopy filtered the moonlight into pale streaks on the dirt path, but all I could feel was my own restless energy vibrating under my skin. I was too excited, humming with anticipation. I wanted to test everything—how pain responded to fire runes, how blood vessels reacted when pressured by wind magic, how flesh screamed when layered with illusions. My thoughts were practically spilling out of me, and the way I kept pacing ahead and circling back had started to irritate Mom.
"How far are we from the prison?" I asked for what must have been the hundredth time, my voice laced with eagerness as I skipped forward.
Mom's face darkened instantly. She snapped, grabbing my head in one strong hand and squeezing. "That's like the 100th time you've asked that! Can you fucking stop!?"
"Haha, but I'm so excited!" I laughed nervously, wincing as her fingers dug into my scalp.
"I don't give a shit. Just shut up for the next ten minutes, okay?" She growled, grinding my head down until my knees nearly buckled.
"Ow, ow, okay! Okay, I'll be quiet for the next ten minutes!" I yelped, squirming under her grip.
"Good," Mom muttered, finally releasing me with a shove. She walked ahead, her crimson eyes flashing in the dark. Stopping at a massive tree, she pressed her hand against the trunk. The bark groaned, shifting aside to reveal a hidden door.
"Hum?" I tilted my head, curiosity prickling. But the second I peeked past the door, my confusion vanished.
The stairs stretched down and down, spiraling into shadow. Not one or two levels—dozens. The stone seemed to hum with stale, metallic air, like the very walls had soaked in years of blood and screams.
When I glanced at Mom, she was glaring at me again. I rubbed my head awkwardly and started down the stairs first, my boots tapping faintly against the stone.
It took five more minutes before the staircase finally opened into a wide corridor lined with prison cells. The air was heavy, thick with the copper tang of dried blood and the sour stink of sweat.
"I'll lead this time," Mom said firmly, stepping in front of me.
We turned two corners before the passage opened into a large chamber. A group of soldiers stood at attention, silent and tense, facing four figures at the front. I recognized Kayda, Rebecca, and Lily immediately, but the fourth woman was new.
She noticed us first, her sharp eyes narrowing before she saluted. "Lady Draig, you have arrived."
"Don't worry about formalities, Trinity. Sorry we're late. This dumbo didn't want to wake up from her afternoon nap," Mom said, glaring at me again.
'What can I say? That Ice Guru Tree is just too comfortable, I thought smugly, offering her a grin.
"I see. You must be the new young miss, right?" Trinity said, stepping forward and offering me her hand.
I blinked, staring a little too long. She was striking—blue hair that shimmered like water, emerald eyes that seemed to cut right through, and two elegant goat horns curving upward. Her shinigami-style kimono was mostly black, a sharp contrast against her pale skin and fluffy animal ears twitching faintly. She was Stacy's height, but her presence radiated authority.
'Why are there so many pretty girls in the capital? First Rachel, then Kayda, now Trinity… seriously, it's unfair.' I thought, dazed as I took her hand.
I didn't say anything, just nodded and smiled faintly.
She frowned, lips parting to speak, but Mom cut her off. "Don't bother, Trinity. I told her to shut up for a while."
Trinity's brows rose, but she shrugged. "Alright. I'll ask her later when she can talk again." She stepped back to stand behind Mom.
I mimicked her shrug, slipping beside her with a sly smile tugging at my lips.
The group of soldiers standing before us wore similar uniforms to Trinity's, though theirs bore more white, marking them as subordinates. They stood ramrod straight, but their eyes flicked curiously toward me.
"Alright," Mom said, her tone cutting through the chamber. "Trinity should have briefed you about tonight, but I'll repeat it. We're here to teach new methods—healing, torture, or both. Or rather, Kitsuna will." She gestured sharply at me.
I gave them a cheerful wave, grinning wide. Mom sighed heavily. "Don't let her appearance fool you. She's only thirteen."
"EEEHH!?" The soldiers' shout rattled the walls, their disbelief almost comical. I braced myself, frosting my ears under my hood to block most of the noise.
"And don't think her age means she lacks experience," Mom pressed on, her voice hard. "She knows more about the human body than anyone here. She's smarter than all of you combined in that field. And she has over one hundred confirmed kills. Not clean ones, either."
"EEEHHH!?" The group's second outburst was even louder, echoing down the hall.
'My statistics make me sound insane,' I thought, fighting the urge to facepalm.
Beside me, Trinity muttered under her breath, "How does a thirteen-year-old have so many confirmed kills…?"
Their shock dragged on far too long. I tapped my foot, impatience bubbling, then smirked. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Trinity watching me warily. Perfect.
I leaned close, letting my breath ghost against her ear before blowing softly.
"KYAAA!?" she yelped, leaping back, face red as she glared at me. Her shout startled the entire group into silence.
I nearly burst out laughing.
Bonk!
"Owie," I groaned, rubbing my head as I glanced back at Mom—who was glaring again, hand still raised from smacking me.
"This overexcitement of yours is irritating," she hissed.
"Then let me do my job," I snapped, glaring right back.
"Yeah, but you didn't have to do something like that."
"Well, you didn't have to announce my entire life story either. We could have skipped that and gone straight into the night's program. Instead, you dragged it out, and now it'll take another ten minutes for them to calm down." My voice dripped with irritation.
Mom clicked her tongue and looked away. "Tsk, fine. Trinity, can we start?"
"...Yes. We have fourteen private soldiers who betrayed us, two corporals, and one sergeant. Then five federation soldiers—their commander and second in command among them. Trinity spoke briskly, but when she turned to hand the files to Mom, I snatched them first.
"Wait, that's—" she started.
"Can you explain the layout of the prison?" I interrupted, already skimming the files. When she didn't answer, I lifted my gaze with a frown. "Hello? I'm doing the torturing tonight. I need to know the layout to make it effective."
Trinity hesitated, eyes flicking to Mom.
"Just tell her. She'll do a good job," Mom said firmly.
"Not being disrespectful, but… is this really the same person?" Trinity asked, pointing at me.
I smirked, leaning closer again. "Miss Goat, pretty please tell me the layout of your prison," I whispered in her ear.
"Kyaa—!" she squeaked, and before I could laugh, her fist cracked up under my chin. My feet left the ground from the force.
I landed with a groan, rubbing my jaw. "Ouch. Okay, I deserved that one."
Trinity's face paled. She stepped forward quickly, panic in her eyes. "Oops—healer! Are you alright?"
I waved her off, grinning through the sting. "Haha, don't worry, I'm fine."
"Are you sure?" she asked, blinking in confusion at how easily I shrugged it off.
"Yes. I've been through worse." My gaze flicked toward Mom, who smirked knowingly.
"Ooh, I see," Trinity murmured, realizing what I meant.
"So, can you explain the layout to me now?" I said, refocusing on the files.
"O-oh, right. The prison has fifty cells, each capable of holding twenty people. You saw them on the way in. There are also four wings for high-ranking prisoners, set in each corner of the complex. At the center is a square we use for disposal."
"I see. Where do you usually do the torturing?"
"There are separate rooms. I can show you—"
"Never mind. We're not using them," I cut in, grinning wickedly. "Tonight, it's public. A demonstration for everyone here. Lead me to the square."
Trinity hesitated, trembling faintly, but turned to guide us down one of the hallways.
"Ooh, and all the healers, come with me. Your lessons start now. The rest of you, drag the fourteen traitors to the square," I ordered, my voice ringing with cheer that clashed against the dark promise of my words.
The healers exchanged uneasy glances, their eyes drifting toward Stacy for help.
"Haha, don't look at me like that," Mom said, following casually, her grin sharp and knowing. "I hope you all have the stomach for what's about to happen." She paused, her crimson gaze sliding toward Kayda, Rebecca, and Lily. "That includes you three as well."