After the smoke of battle cleared from the training grounds, Derson turned to Derrick. "Colonel, I need a few dwarf prisoners."
Derrick frowned. "We do have some. They're locked in the prison. We tried to get a detailed layout of the tunnels from them, but those stone-headed brutes are stubborn as rocks. We've tried everything and couldn't pry out a single word. We beat them, starved them—even the oldest Interrogator was helpless."
"Perhaps we should try a different approach." Derson's tone was calm. "I need a completely enclosed room—no light, no ventilation, and a sturdy door. Also, no one is to come near during the interrogation, including you."
Derrick stared at him, his eyes shifting slightly. He sized up this seemingly refined intelligence officer, and he had already formed a guess. The "special project officer" from Lakeheart Town naturally wouldn't rely on ordinary whips and branding irons.
"You intend to torture them?" he asked in a lowered voice.
Derson did not deny it. He merely said flatly, "For the sake of efficiency, extraordinary measures are sometimes unavoidable. Please believe me: as long as they remain alive, they won't be left with any external injuries."
Derrick fell silent for a moment before finally nodding. "There's a stone chamber beneath the west tower. It was originally prepared for holding serious criminals, and its walls are built from three-foot-thick stone. I'll give you the key, but don't kill them. I still need them alive to exchange for Helson Viscount."
"I understand." Derson took the key, then summoned two attendants. They kept their heads lowered the entire time and wore ordinary grey robes, showing nothing unusual.
Not long afterward, four dwarf prisoners shackled in iron chains were escorted into the basement of the west tower. The heavy stone door was shut, and two soldiers