The captain tightened his grip on the boy's chin, forcing him to look up.
His right hand glowed faintly—mana coursing through it.
"Are you sure about that… kid?" he asked, his voice slow… almost calm.
The boy's lips trembled. No words came out.
A faint smile crossed the captain's face.
"Then… perhaps we should help you remember."
He straightened and stepped back without another word.
"Torture him until he speaks," Captain Vecia ordered sharply.
The guards moved immediately.
The boy's eyes widened in panic as two guards rushed forward and grabbed his arms, forcing him upright against the chains.
"N-No… please—" he stammered, his voice breaking.
"I really don't know… how I got here… please…"
His words dissolved into desperate gasps.
"Hold him still," one guard said coldly.
Another guard stepped forward.
Slowly… deliberately… he began to strip the boy of his clothes.
The boy struggled weakly, shaking his head, fear flooding his face.
"Please… don't… please…"
No one listened.
The cold air hit his skin.
He shivered violently.
A third guard stepped forward, gripping a cane.
He tested its weight in his hand.
Silence fell for a brief moment.
The boy's breathing grew erratic.
His eyes locked onto the weapon.
"Who are you?" the guard asked.
No answer.
The cane rose.
For a split second—
the boy flinched.
CRACK.
A scream tore through the cell.
"AHHH—!"
His body jerked violently against the chains.
"I—I don't know!" he cried. "Please—please believe me!"
Another strike.
CRACK.
The sound echoed through the chamber.
The boy's voice broke into sobs.
"I don't know… I don't know… please…"
The blows continued.
Not rushed. Not wild.
Measured.
Deliberate.
Each strike followed by a moment of silence—
just long enough for the pain to sink in.
His screams grew weaker.
His body trembled uncontrollably.
Tears, sweat, and blood mixed as his strength faded.
"Still not talking?" one guard muttered.
Another strike—
The boy's body went limp.
Silence.
"Damn it," one guard said, lowering the cane. "He didn't say anything."
"He's tougher than he looks," another replied.
"Report to the captain."
Captain Vecia's Office
Captain Vecia stood by his desk, examining the strange clothing.
He ran his fingers over the fabric, eyes narrowing.
"These patterns…" he murmured. "This material…"
He exhaled slowly.
"Who exactly are you…?"
A knock interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in."
The door opened.
"Lieutenant Zigg reporting, sir."
Vecia didn't turn.
"Did he speak?"
"No, sir."
A pause.
"He kept repeating the same thing. He claims he doesn't remember anything."
Vecia's grip on the fabric tightened slightly.
"Brainwashed… or telling the truth?" he muttered.
"What are your orders, sir?" Zigg asked.
Vecia turned toward the window, looking out into the distance.
"Have a priest examine him," he said calmly. "I want a full report."
A brief silence followed.
"Who is that boy…?" Vecia murmured under his breath.
Main Gate of the Perus few hours after the mestryous boy got capture
The toll collector wiped sweat from his forehead, flipping through a stack of bills.
"The heat is killing me… summers in Perus feel like hell."
"Tell me about it," one of the guards replied, fanning himself lazily with his hand.
"I heard the capital might restrict water distribution," the toll collector added.
"What? Just kill me now," the guard groaned.
Before the conversation could continue—
"Wait…" another guard narrowed his eyes, staring into the distance.
A faint movement.
Dust rising.
Fast.
His expression changed instantly.
"ALERT THE ROYAL GUARD!" he shouted. "Mystics—approaching!"
The mood shifted in a heartbeat.
"What?!"
"Close the gate! Move!"
Panic spread as the gatekeepers rushed into position.
In the distance—
A pack of creatures charged toward the walls.
Low to the ground. Fast. Violent.
They looked like dogs… but twisted.
Their bodies were lean and jagged, their movement unnatural.
"A herd…" one guard muttered, fear creeping into his voice.
"Move! MOVE!" the constable shouted. "Inform the captain!"
Within moments, the message reached Captain Vecia.
On the Walls
Vecia stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the approaching creatures.
"Form ranks!" he ordered. "Prepare for engagement!"
Soldiers rushed into position.
Weapons drawn.
Magic gathering.
"Battle mages—forward!"
A line of mages stepped ahead, raising their hands.
Mana surged through the air.
"Fire!"
Wind blades sliced forward.
Flames burst across the ground.
Stone projectiles tore through the air.
The attacks collided with the charging Mythics.
Several were struck—
—but they didn't stop.
"They're still coming!" a soldier shouted.
Vecia narrowed his eyes.
"These are low-rank Mythics…" he muttered.
"They shouldn't be this close to the city."
"Captain," Lieutenant Zigg stepped beside him, "their numbers are low… only eight or nine."
Vecia's expression hardened.
"…That's exactly what concerns me."
Below the walls—
The remaining Mythics slammed into the outer defenses, snarling violently.
Their claws scraped against stone.
Their eyes burned with unnatural aggression.
Vecia raised his hand slightly.
"Hold formation," he said calmly.
"…Something isn't right."
Captain Vecia stepped forward, eyes locked onto the remaining Mythics.
"…I'll deal with this myself."
He drew his sword.
Without hesitation—
he leapt from the wall.
The wind shifted.
Dust spiraled beneath him as he landed.
The creatures lunged.
Vecia exhaled slowly.
"Wind Magic… Distortion."
The air twisted.
For a brief moment—
everything went silent.
Then—
a violent surge of compressed wind exploded outward.
The force tore through the Mythics.
Bodies were ripped apart mid-charge—
cut down before they could even react.
Silence fell.
Vecia stood still, sword lowered.
The wind slowly died around him.
"…Too easy," he muttered.
His gaze shifted.
Something was wrong.
His expression hardened.
"…Now it makes sense."
Without another word—
he turned and rushed back toward the city.
Cut — Royal Guard Prison
The cell door slammed open.
Vecia stormed inside.
His steps heavy. Controlled. Angry.
The boy hung weakly in chains.
Barely conscious.
Without warning—
Vecia drove his fist into the boy's abdomen.
The impact forced the air out of him.
"WAKE UP!"
The boy gasped violently, coughing as pain surged through his body.
"Agh—!"
Vecia grabbed his hair and yanked his head up.
"Were you the one who brought those Mythics to Perus?" he demanded.
"Answer me!"
"I—I don't know!" the boy cried, trembling. "What… what is a Mythic?!"
Vecia's eyes narrowed.
"I found traces of their fur on your clothes."
His grip tightened.
"Don't lie to me."
"TELL ME WHAT YOU'RE HIDING!"
The boy froze.
Tears streamed down his face.
No answer came.
Vecia clicked his tongue in irritation and let go.
"…Fine."
His voice dropped—cold, controlled.
"I'll find the truth myself."
The boy's body shook uncontrollably.
"Call Priest Nekols," Vecia ordered.
Priest Examination
A few minutes later—
Priest Nekols entered the chamber.
Vecia stood waiting, arms crossed.
"The boy isn't speaking," he said. "Check him. I suspect a spell… or an oath."
Nekols nodded and stepped inside the cell.
He approached the boy slowly.
The moment he placed his hand near the boy—
he paused.
"…Strange."
Vecia frowned.
"What is it?"
Nekols closed his eyes, focusing.
Mana flowed gently as he examined the boy.
Then—
his expression changed.
"…This is not possible."
Vecia's voice sharpened.
"Explain."
Nekols turned toward him, visibly unsettled.
"There is no sign of brainwashing. No divine oath."
He hesitated.
"…His body is functioning normally."
Vecia stepped forward.
"Then what's the problem?"
Nekols looked back at the boy.
"…He has no mana stones ."
Silence.
"That's impossible," Vecia said immediately.
Nekols shook his head slowly.
"…Exactly."
"No human is born without stones."
What are mana stones?🤔