"Talk," Jamie demanded, his voice cold and unyielding. "Or nine more will follow."

The Inquisitor trembled, a brutal scream gushing from his throat as pain burned through his hand. Blood dripped onto the damp stone floor, pooling around the severed finger that lay at his feet. His breaths came in gasps; each inhale was a struggle against the overwhelming pain.

Jamie stood before him, eyes devoid of mercy. He was aware that Maria, standing a few paces behind, watched the interrogation with visible unease. Her usual composure was cracked; her lips parted in silent dismay, and a faint tremor shook her hands. Perhaps she had expected a more measured approach.

But Jamie knew that brutal and decisive actions often yielded the best information. Prolonged torture could harden a man's resolve, but the shock of brutality would break his spirit. He needed to convey that he felt no compassion or patience.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Maria wrestle with her revulsion, her gaze flitting between the bloodied scene and the stone walls. Yet he couldn't allow himself to falter; too much was at stake.

"Tell us something of value," Jamie said, "or I'll take the second."

The Inquisitor's pale face was slick with sweat, his eyes wide and wild. Yet, amidst the pain, a flicker of defiance lingered. He clenched his jaw, blood staining his teeth, and hissed, "Velkaris is the way. Velkaris is the light."

Jamie narrowed his gaze. The man clung to his indoctrination like a lifeline. Without hesitation, he raised the dagger once more.

"Eight," he counted.

The blade flashed downward with ruthless precision, severing a second finger. Another scream ripped through the chamber. The Inquisitor doubled over, cradling his mutilated hand against his chest.

"Come now," Jamie chided, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. "I'd rather get information than watch a grown man weep."

He stepped closer, the metallic scent of blood sharp in his nostrils. "Others might think they can wear you down over months," he continued. "Extracting pieces of truth through endless agony. I am not so patient. If you choose silence, I'll kill you before the afternoon."

The Inquisitor's breath hitched, his resolve wavering. His eyes darted towards Maria, perhaps seeking pity, but found none. Turning back to Jamie, he stammered, "Vel... Velkaris..."

Jamie tilted his head thoughtfully. "I wonder," he mused aloud, glancing at Maria sideways, "how much a necromancer charges these days?"

Maria's eyes widened, a delicate hand rising to cover her mouth in shock.

"It can't be too expensive," Jamie continued, his tone almost casual. "After I kill you, I could have you resurrected. Even if you have nothing useful to say, the necromancer could glean secrets from your soul. Or, better yet, trace your family and friends."

A flicker of true fear ignited in the Inquisitor's eyes.

"Yes," Jamie pressed on, leaning closer. "I could find your relatives, one by one. Subject them to the same fate. After all, considering how many lives you've taken, I'd still be in the right, wouldn't I?"

Of course, this was against Jamie's rules, but the Inquisitor and Maria didn't know.

The Inquisitor stared at Jamie with sheer terror. Jamie's threats were delivered as if he were discussing the weather rather than calculated cruelty.

"Monster!" the Inquisitor spat.

Jamie arched an eyebrow, his expression composed. "So? Shall we proceed to seven?" he remarked. He began to count, his tone almost conversational. "One... Two..."

"W-wait! I'll talk!" the Inquisitor blurted out. His face was ashen, beads of sweat tracing paths down his temples. "At least, what I know."

"Let's see if what you know is valuable," Jamie said. "Why were you allied with Lucius?"

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"I... I don't know," the Inquisitor stammered.

Jamie's eyes narrowed. "Seven!" he declared, lifting the dagger once more.

"Wait! Please!" the man cried out, desperation in his tone. "I truly don't know!"

"Then you leave me little choice," Jamie explained, his grip on the dagger unwavering.

"I swear!" the Inquisitor shouted, panic flaring in his eyes. "Inquisitors aren't told much about our missions. Only our superiors know. That way, we can't betray them. We become expendable."

Jamie paused, considering his words. They sounded true. Keeping agents in the dark would prevent leaks and ensure loyalty through ignorance. He glanced sideways at Maria, who stood outside the cell, her arms crossed.

"Makes sense," Jamie mused aloud.

Maria stepped forward, her voice cutting through the dimness. "Why Hafenstadt?" she demanded.

The Inquisitor licked his cracked lips, wincing as he shifted his weight. "I'm not certain," he admitted. "But the leader said something about being a gateway into the Empire."

Maria leaned closer to Jamie. "The Empire hasn't much presence from the Church of Velkaris," she whispered. "If they see Hafenstadt as a point of entry, that could explain their interest."

Jamie nodded before turning back to the captive. "Will they return?" he pressed.

"Our instructions were to return to base," the Inquisitor replied. "I don't know anything beyond that."

Silence settled over the chamber. Jamie paced slowly.

"Lucius mentioned something that caught my attention," Jamie said at length, his voice low. He faced Maria. "He spoke of the throne being empty. That's why they could get the Nightwalker."

"An empty throne..." Maria murmured, her brow furrowing as she connected the dots. "That would be..."

Jamie turned back to the Inquisitor, his eyes sharp. "What do you know of this? About the God of Night?"

The man's gaze flickered. "Not much," he confessed. "The clerics would know more. But there are rumors among the Paladins."

"Rumors?" Jamie stepped closer, the intensity in his eyes causing the Inquisitor to shrink back.

"Strange happenings," the Inquisitor whispered. "First, whispers of people arriving from other worlds. Then, a period where our connection to the gods was... severed. And now, they say... they say the God of Night has vanished."

"Well?" Jamie pressed, his voice low yet carrying an undeniable edge.

The Inquisitor's gaze darted between them. Beads of sweat traced lines down his dirt-smudged forehead. "Th-that's all I know," he stammered, his tone edging toward desperation.

Jamie leaned in slightly. "Use that Paladin brain of yours," he admonished, a hint of sarcasm lacing his words. "What do you make of all this?"

The Inquisitor swallowed hard. "I'm not an expert in divine magic," he managed. "But it's obvious if a god disappears, it would be chaotic. If that's true, there will be countless consequences. Other gods... they'll struggle to maintain balance."

Jamie exchanged a quick glance with Maria.

"Why would a god disappear?" Maria interjected, stepping forward.

The Inquisitor hesitated, his eyes shifting as he searched for an answer. "There could be countless reasons," he began. "But..." He paused, his brow creasing as if choosing his words. "It's usually not a good sign. Ascending to godhood grants immense power, yes, but it also paints a target on your back. Others might seek to claim that power, to take their place."

"Who would be capable of challenging a god?" Maria pressed, her gaze piercing.

"I don't know," the Inquisitor admitted, his shoulders sagging.

Jamie narrowed his eyes. "Is that all?" he asked, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice.

The prisoner shifted uncomfortably, his chains clinking. "It's all I know," he whispered. Yet, his eyes flickered with something new. Maybe a glimmer of desperation or hope. "B-but wait... I have more information," he added. "But you must promise I'll leave here alive."

"What kind of information?" Jamie asked, skepticism evident.

"It's important," the Inquisitor replied, wetting his cracked lips. "Specifically for both of you."

A tense silence settled over the room. Jamie glanced back at Maria, who gave a slight nod.

"Very well," Jamie agreed. "Let's hear it."

The Inquisitor took a shaky breath. "The organization knows that both of you are Otherworlders," he revealed. The inquisitor looked between them to gauge their reactions.

Jamie's face remained stoic, but a flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes. "And how could they know that?" he challenged, his grip tightening on the dagger.

"Someone sent a letter to the organization," the Inquisitor explained, his voice steadier now that he had something to bargain with. "After that, it was a matter of using certain magical instruments to confirm that your souls aren't from this world."

A heavy tension filled the chamber. Jamie exchanged a look with Maria.

"And do you know who sent this letter?" Jamie asked evenly, though his heart pounded in his chest.

"Yes," the Inquisitor affirmed, a note of grim satisfaction in his tone.

Jamie stepped closer, his gaze unwavering. "Tell me," he said, his voice low, "and I give you my word, you'll walk out of here alive."

The prisoner hesitated for a fraction of a second before speaking. "High Priestess Lysara," he disclosed.

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