Herpo was still being held up by that invisible force. Even as Voldemort's footsteps faded into the distance, until they vanished completely, his body remained rigidly in place, without the slightest movement.
Only when that invisible force supporting him disappeared did his figure begin to sway violently.
He hurriedly stretched out his only remaining hand and gripped the edge of the cold experiment table with all his strength. Only then did he barely steady himself and avoid falling in such a sorry state again.
Herpo's fingernails nearly dug blood out of the surface, and his body suddenly convulsed beyond his control.
"Damn it!" His expression instantly turned savage. He clenched his teeth hard, and hissing gasps slipped out from between them.
The pain the Cruciatus Curse had brought him still remained, but what truly tormented him at this moment was humiliation that sank deep into his bones.
He was "The Master's" "Shepherd," the founder of the Isaiah Society, the spreader of the Killing Curse, the inventor of the Horcrux, the mastermind behind the "Goblin Rebellion"...
And yet... and yet he had been tortured at Voldemort's whim with the Cruciatus Curse like some lowly, disobedient servant, humiliated as if he were a stray dog.
The pain brought by the Cruciatus Curse was not only still tormenting his body; it was also constantly replaying the scene from just now—how he had collapsed to the floor and rolled around wretchedly, how he had been unable to stop himself from letting out shameful screams.
To ensure the descent of "The Master," he had been forced to confess his control over the goblins. That was a secret weapon he had hidden for centuries, one that was enough to overturn History of Magic, and also the foundation of the intelligence network he had built.
It was