I turned my attention to the third captive and noticed the evident unease in his demeanor. It was unclear whether he was genuinely devoid of any useful information or simply traumatized by the gruesome scene before him.
"Do I need to prompt you for an answer?" I asked, fixing my gaze on him expectantly.
"No, it's just the nerves. I'm Mordred, a merchant dealing in various items, from weapons to protective artifacts," he hastily explained.
"Tell me, how many artifacts do you possess?" I inquired, seeking more information about his resources.
"This is what I possess, and there are more items like this scattered throughout the nation," the merchant explained, somewhat flustered as he fumbled to retrieve his storage device. He dropped it momentarily and then hastily handed it over to me.
"Apologies!" he added, clearly worried about my reaction.