Chapter 28: How to Break a Man

The wind whispered through the trees as I made my way to the forest, the rhythmic crunch of leaves beneath my boots barely audible in the quiet stillness. Mayer followed silently behind, his presence a steady shadow, never questioning, always watching. My katana hung at my side, its weight a familiar comfort, a reminder of what was to come.

The ditch loomed ahead, the place where this body had once been discarded like trash. I couldn't help but feel the irony, returning here as the one now holding all the power. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. Life had a way of coming full circle, didn't it?

As we approached, I saw the guards stationed around the clearing. Four soldiers stood watch, their eyes flickering with a mixture of caution and unease. They knew something was coming, though none of them understood why I had chosen this particular place. Not even Mayer knew. But it didn't matter—they followed orders. That's all they needed to do.

Fendrel Marlow knelt in the center, his hands and feet bound with heavy chains, his face bloodied and bruised. The soldiers must have tried to extract information from him already, but they had failed. Of course they had. Men like Fendrel weren't broken by physical pain. It took something more to convince someone like him to talk.

I stopped a few feet away, my gaze sweeping over the pitiful sight before me. Fendrel's chest rose and fell with labored breaths, his head hanging low. Yet when I approached, his eyes snapped up, filled with burning hatred. It was the kind of hatred that seared into your bones—the kind that only grew when you had nothing left to lose.

Good. I needed that fire.

"Still so defiant," I said, my voice calm, almost casual. "Are you truly prepared to face the consequences for those who sent you? For those who won't even lift a finger to save you?"

He didn't respond. His lips pressed into a thin line, the fury in his eyes the only answer I received. I expected as much. Fendrel wasn't a man easily swayed. But he didn't need to say anything for me to know what he was thinking. His silence was as loud as any scream.

I unsheathed my katana, letting the blade gleam in the fading sunlight. It was almost beautiful, the way it caught the light, so pristine, so deadly. I twirled it lazily in my hand, letting the tip hover just inches from Fendrel's face.

"Tell me," I began, my tone light, conversational even. "Do you think they care? The people who orders you? Do you think they'll even notice when you're gone?"

Fendrel's jaw clenched, but still, he said nothing. His eyes, however, betrayed him. There was a flicker of something—doubt, perhaps. The first crack.

"They'll leave you to your fate," I continued, crouching down so that I was eye level with him. "You're expendable to them."

The katana's edge glided just under his chin, lifting his head ever so slightly. I could feel his breath hitch, the tension rolling off him in waves. But still, he remained silent.

"Fine," I sighed, standing back up. "I had a feeling this would happen."

I turned to Mayer, whose face remained stoic, though I could sense the confusion behind his eyes. He didn't know what I was about to do, but that was fine. No one needed to know except me.

"Bring them out," I ordered, my voice cutting through the silence like a blade.

For the first time, Fendrel's expression shifted—just slightly, but enough for me to notice. His brow furrowed, confusion mingling with the rage. He didn't know what I meant, not yet.

The soldiers moved swiftly, disappearing into the trees before returning moments later, dragging two figures behind them. A woman and a boy, both restrained, their clothes dirty, their faces marked with the signs of struggle. The woman's eyes were wide with fear, the boy's face pale with terror.

Fendrel's entire body stiffened.

I grinned.

"Oh, I forgot to mention," I said, my voice dripping with mock innocence. "I paid a little visit to your home last night. Lovely place, really. Your wife—what's her name? Doesn't matter—she put up quite the fight, but in the end, she had no choice but to come along. And your son... well, here he is."

Fendrel's eyes widened, the hatred morphing into something else. Panic. Desperation. His gaze darted between his wife and son, and for the first time since I arrived, he spoke.

"You... you can't!" he hissed, his voice shaking with barely restrained fury. "Leave them out of this. They're innocent!"

I chuckled, twirling the katana once more. "Oh, but they have everything to do with this, Fendrel. You see, I don't care about your loyalty to your masters. I don't care about how strong you are, or how much you can endure. What I care about is how far you'll go to protect them."

Fendrel lunged forward, but the chains held him down. His face twisted with anger and desperation, his voice raw as he shouted, "Face me! Do whatever you want with me, but leave them alone!"

I shrugged, unfazed by his outburst. "You're in no position to make demands."

The soldiers held his wife and son firmly, their muffled cries barely audible through the bindings. Mayer stood off to the side, his expression betraying the faintest hint of surprise. He hadn't expected this, but he said nothing. He knew better than to question me now.

Fendrel's desperation was palpable. His hands trembled, his breaths came in ragged gasps. I watched him carefully, studying every twitch, every flinch. This was the moment I'd been waiting for—the moment when the unbreakable man began to falter.

"You wanted to protect them, didn't you?" I said softly, my voice almost a whisper. "But here they are, because of you. Because you were too stubborn to talk."

Fendrel's eyes were wild now, darting from his wife to his son, then back to me. His lips moved, but no sound came out at first. Then, finally, he spoke, his voice broken, pleading.

"Please... don't hurt them," he whispered. "I'll do anything. Just... please."

I smiled coldly. "That's more like it."