Herpo remained suspended by that invisible force. Even as Voldemort's footsteps gradually faded and finally vanished altogether, his body stayed rigidly frozen in the same position, without the slightest movement.
Only when that invisible force holding him up disappeared did his body begin to sway violently.
He hurriedly stretched out his one remaining hand and braced himself against the edge of the cold laboratory table. Only then did he barely steady himself and avoid collapsing to the floor again in disgrace.
Herpo's nails nearly dug blood from his palm as his body convulsed uncontrollably.
"Damn it!" His expression instantly twisted into a snarl. He clenched his teeth tightly, and sharp hissing breaths escaped through the gaps between them.
The pain inflicted by the Cruciatus Curse still lingered, but what truly tormented him now was the humiliation that seeped into his very bones.
As the "Shepherd" of "My Lord," the founder of the Isaiah Society, the spreader of the Killing Curse, the inventor of Horcruxes, the mastermind behind the "Goblin Rebellion"...
He had actually... actually been tortured at Voldemort's whim with the Cruciatus Curse, like some disobedient, lowly servant, humiliated as though he were a stray dog.
The pain brought by the Cruciatus Curse was not merely tormenting his body—it kept replaying what had just happened: how he had rolled about helplessly on the ground, how he had been unable to suppress those shameful screams.
To ensure the arrival of "My Lord," he had been forced to confess his control over the goblins. It was a secret weapon he had concealed for centuries, one capable of overturning A History of Magic, and the foundation upon which he had built his intelligence network.
Yet he had been forced to offer up such a core secret as "proof of sincerity" in exchange for