Memory Restoration Spell

Raul stared at the pincers in Battleaxe's hands, larger than his own head, and immediately felt phantom pain.

They weren't really going to do the same thing to him, were they?

Battleaxe excitedly clacked the pincers together, flashing eight huge yellow teeth in a kind, cheerful smile.

"Enough, stop scaring him. If you frighten him silly, where are we going to find another good actor?" Drogo called a halt to the farce.

The moment Mila had opened her eyes, he had found it strange. If she saw freakish creatures like dragons and orcs without the slightest fear, that could be explained by her never having seen them before—like a newborn calf unafraid of tigers. But seeing Raul and having no reaction at all was simply too hard to explain.

To confirm it, Drogo asked Mila about every detail described in that news report. Without exception, every answer passed the Truth Spell's test.

Was this really a six-year-old?

Had she passed the checks with absurdly high Perception?

A natural-born priest-druid prodigy, was she?

He then turned to the priest. "Wouldn't it be pretty immoral if we tortured a child?"

The priest nodded frantically.

"Then what do we do?"

"Passing a Truth Spell doesn't necessarily mean something truly happened," the priest offered his view. "As long as the person being tested believes it happened, they can say it and pass the test."

"That's a thing? Then test me."

"No need, boss. Your Perception really is too high."

"Fine. In that case, there's another possibility: Mila's memories were altered, or she was brainwashed."

That also explained why she had shown no reaction upon seeing Raul, the "great villain." The memories had been planted in her. She remembered them, but her feelings toward those memories were like those of an observer.

"Is there any way to read memories?"

"No. I only know Soul Search." The priest shook his head.

Soul Search could read memories, and it worked even better than other memory-reading spells, but its side effects were severe. At best, it caused long-term headaches; at worst, the victim would become an idiot on the spot after the search.

"Forget it. Raul, can you walk on your own?"

"More or less." The treatment had almost fully taken effect. Raul still ached a little, but he could move by himself.

"Good. Battleaxe, carry Mila."

"Huh? We're not silencing her, are we? Battleaxe doesn't hit children..."

"Silence your big head," Drogo said, smacking Battleaxe on the head with a claw and making his skull buzz. "Carry her to Soren. He definitely knows how to read memories."

An hour later, Soren Mage Tower.

Top-floor bedroom.

On a massive bed four meters square, Soren lay sunk into a soft velvet mattress, snoring as he happily wriggled about.

Every now and then, he muttered in his sleep. "Hehehe, Drogo, ancient Red Dragon my ass. Fell into my hands, didn't you? Can't beat me now, can you? Go on, breathe fire again.

"Ha, a barrier! Can't hit me! If I see you in Twin Towers City, I'll rip those dragon horns right off..."

He rolled over, and his hand seemed to touch something rough and prickly. Had his pet osprey gotten out? He felt it more carefully. Hiss—those claws didn't feel like an osprey's claws.

He jolted awake. In the pitch-black room, two enormous flaming eyes gleamed brightly.

"Drogo?"

"Good morning. I came to invite you to watch the four a.m. sun over Twin Towers City."

"Are you insane?" Soren snapped his fingers, lighting up the room. Upon noticing the others, he hurriedly waved a hand and changed into somewhat more formal clothes.

But Drogo had seen clearly: the pajamas he had been wearing were in the style of the Magic Council's Chief Elder. Drogo had fought that old man before, but Soren should only have been the third or fourth elder.

"What happened to all the defensive spells in my tower?" Soren got out of bed and poured himself a glass of water.

"I waded through them."

"What do you mean, waded through them? Couldn't you have called me to come down and let you in? Now I have to set them all up again!" Soren hurriedly made two ice cubes in his water to lower his blood pressure.

"I was going to call you, but the first one triggered as soon as I reached the tower entrance. Since it had already gone off, I figured I might as well help you test their strength."

"Thanks for thinking so highly of me. What do you want?"

"I need to check someone's memories."

"Oh?" Soren's interest immediately piqued, and he grinned rather creepily. "I love looking at other people's memories. Who is it? Where are they?"

The bald, wrinkled oddball's lecherous smile successfully made Mila feel fear for the first time that night. Tears began to well in her big eyes.

"You're going to scare the kid again."

"Her? What a disappointment." When Soren saw Mila, more than half his enthusiasm vanished. Still, he took her over, lifted her high, and cast two little spells in quick succession, soothing her with the combo.

He set her on a chair, then, for once, took out a wand and began chanting. A cloud of gray mist rose above Mila's head, shifting and condensing into images.

"I thought you'd use your wand to pull out the memories, toss them into a basin, and then watch them while soaking in it."

"Huh? What kind of back-alley method is that?"

The thread of memory rapidly rewound. Raul did indeed appear and commit evil deeds, but although the Raul in those memories looked right, even his accent was wrong. It was as if something was impersonating him.

It was now completely certain that Raul was innocent. This would make things easier to explain to the Garrison Corps too—they had the evidence.

A little further back, Mila's parents appeared. She called them "Daddy" and "Mommy."

That was strange. The report had claimed Mila was an orphan, which was why no one stood up for her. She herself had confirmed it as well. What had made her so firmly believe she had no parents?

There was no memory of the two dying afterward.

Soon, the memories provided the answer.

"Daddy" was always drinking. He often took the spare coins she and her older siblings had saved from odd jobs, then returned empty-handed, cursing about his bad luck. Then he would whip her with a belt, forcing her to work as a child laborer in a factory.

Sometimes, "Daddy" brought other men home. Those men gave "Daddy" money before going into the room with "Mommy." Before long, "Mommy's" cries would be heard.

"Mommy" always worshiped strange statues. That day, she had even stabbed her little brother with a knife and squeezed his blood onto a statue. Mila had no choice but to flee the house with her little brother, but they were caught and dragged back.

Later, "Daddy" and "Mommy" decided that a child who kept trying to run away was too much trouble. So they found a strange man in purple robes and sold her for thirty silver coins...

The images in the memories gradually blurred.

"Those two are fucking animals!" Drogo was stunned by Mila's memories.

There were not many monsters capable of doing something this vile.

It was completely understandable why she so firmly believed she was an orphan. This was worse than being an orphan.

"Such things do happen," Soren said helplessly from the side. "Among the lowest-class commoners, they could even be called commonplace. This is..."

Soren held back the rest of that sentence for a long time before finally sighing it out. "This is the kingdom's tragedy, and the kingdom's failure."

"I don't care whose failure it is!" The lava in Drogo's eyes churned ceaselessly. "I saw it, so I'm going to do something about it!"

The targets were much clearer now: find those two animals, along with the purple-robed man who had bought her.

But the information about the purple-robed man was too vague to identify him. They could only start with the other two.

"Find them. Bring the children back. The two adults don't need to be left alive. Search their souls on the spot, then dispose of them."

Drogo gave the order.