Rowan led Logan downward, step by step, through the narrow stone staircase.
Though they were descending, the space felt more like a corridor—walls closed in tightly on either side, dimly lit by flickering torches mounted in iron brackets. The shadows danced with each step they took.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Their footsteps echoed faintly as they moved deeper into the underground.
After a few minutes, they finally reached the bottom. From there, they continued walking a short distance until they arrived in front of a large chamber. Two people were standing on guard.
One of them was Luther, whom Logan had already been introduced to earlier that morning.
The other was the sa young man who had accompanied Luther into the cellar last ti—his na was Leonard.
Rowan and Logan ca to a stop in front of them.
Both Luther and Leonard gave respectful bows in greeting.
"They haven’t said anything yet, I assu?" Rowan asked.
"No, Your Highness," Luther replied.
Rowan turned to Logan with a small smile.
"All right then. Let’s see what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve."
He gestured toward the door, and Luther stepped forward to unlock it.
With a low creak of tal, the heavy door opened. All four of them stepped inside.
Leonard had been staring at Logan—visibly confused.
He couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.
Why was a boy—barely twelve or thirteen—accompanying the Third Prince down into the depths of the cellar for such an important matter?
Luther, on the other hand, had already run out of shock earlier that morning.
Now, he simply looked skeptical.
Could this boy really do anything at all?
That was the only thought in his mind.
Inside the chamber, Zacharia was in a miserable state.
The man beside him looked no better.
Three days of torture had left both of them barely hanging on.
Yet neither of them had spoken a single word.
They were silently bracing themselves—waiting for the next round to begin—
And right then, the door creaked open.
Both n weakly turned their heads to see who had co in.
And the mont Zacharia saw one of them, his eyes widened in shock.
It was him.
The sa boy who had ruined everything.
The one who now seed even more dangerous than the Third Prince.
Logan.
Images from Logan’s battle with the fake Lira Wynn flashed through Zacharia’s mind.
His heart started pounding.
He couldn’t understand—
Why was Logan here?
Logan looked at the two prisoners.
"Their condition is pitiful."
He said it not because he cared for them—
But because they looked that bad.
"You still think you can do better?"
Luther, though he didn’t want to disrespect the prince by speaking harshly with his guest,
Still couldn’t hide the contempt in his tone. He couldn’t accept a kid challenging his skills.
On the other hand, Logan felt slightly irritated by his words—but didn’t show it on his face.
He simply strode toward Zacharia in unhurried steps and then crouched down.
Zacharia was tightly bound in chains.
Logan leaned slightly forward and pressed a specific point on Zacharia’s chest.
Slowly, he channeled internal energy into it.
And the mont he did, Zacharia felt a strange, creeping pain begin to spread inside him—like sothing was gnawing at his flesh from within.
It was agonizing. So much so, he could barely keep himself conscious.
Then Logan pressed another point—repeating the sa technique.
The pain doubled.
Zacharia couldn’t keep his mouth shut anymore.
With a blood-curdling scream, he cried out.
He couldn’t take it. Not anymore.
Behind him, Rowan and the two torturers stood frozen—completely shocked.
It was like they had just witnessed a ghost.
Though Rowan had expected sothing impressive—this still stunned him.
Luther’s condition was the worst. He had just looked down on Logan for acting presumptuous.
But now he realized—he was the one who had been acting like a fool.
And beside Zacharia, his fellow captive’s face had turned ghostly pale.
Because he knew—his turn was coming.
But Logan still didn’t stop there.
He moved again, pressing another point, and pushed his internal energy into it.
Zacharia’s scream this ti shook the walls.
His veins bulged. His eyes looked like they were about to burst.
And then—Logan did it again.
That was the breaking point.
Zacharia broke down, sobbing.
"I-I’ll talk! Please... just stop it... please..."
Only then did Logan calmly press the sa points again—neutralizing the pain.
It was a pressure point technique.
Logan had targeted the pain receptor points in the body, stimulating them by flowing internal energy directly into the nerves.
To martial artists, knowing pressure points was a common thing.
These ca in handy during combat—whether to immobilize an enemy, or in situations like this... to bring out information.
Logan stood up straight.
"So tell . Why did you co to assassinate the Third Prince? And who sent you?" he asked.
"It was Malrik... King Malrik," Zacharia barely whispered. "He sent us to kill the third prince. We didn’t want to let him grow."
"King Malrik of Velkar?" Rowan asked, eyes narrowing.
"Yes," Zacharia confird.
Though he himself had been the mastermind, now...he didn’t dare to say it.
He was genuinely afraid of Logan now.
At the back, Rowan didn’t react to the confession with surprise. In truth, he had already guessed it. It should have been either Velkar or Drazhul. And now the confession just confird his intuition.
"King Malrik. So Velkar really did want war." He whispered.
Rowan then stepped forward and looked down at Zacharia, who was still shivering in pain.
"You weren’t the only one sent, were you?" he asked quietly.
"We were. Just the two of us and Sylfie." Zacharia replied.
"By Sylfie, you an the imposter who joined in the tournant?" Rowan asked.
"Y..yes." He replied.
Finally all the information Rowan wanted to know and confirm were out.
But the information didn’t shock him that much as Logan’s technique to bring out information did.
The more he got to know Logan, the more the boy surprised him.
After collecting all necessary details they both left the cellar.
After climbing the stairs and stepping out of the corridor, they were just about to head forward but suddenly both of them froze—soone was standing there, waiting for them.
Daliah!
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