The Ascender's Legacy [A CHAOTIC STORM LITRPG]

Aldric ended up spending the entire night in Baron Shrapanelly's dungeon, skillfully drilling the helpless cultist and trying to extract every scrap of information he could. The whole 'coercion' process had gone smoothly at first, but after nearly eight hours of relentless emotional manipulation, they'd hit a wall.

It wasn't because Aldric's methods were ineffective, or that he was tired—which he was, but because nearly every single bit of important information he needed from the man was protected by an absurd number of oaths.

The sheer number of them was ridiculous. And yet, they seemed to have been taken willingly, making his efforts to pry anything useful out of the man completely futile.

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Aldric leaned back in his chair and observed the cultist, his mind racing as he tried to find a way to get the information, he needed without resorting to torture by forcing the man to break his oaths.

He'd seen it done by another empath he'd once been close to, but it hadn't been a pretty sight. Forcing a man to break his own oaths was like snapping every bone in his body while keeping him alive through the entire ordeal. Sometimes, the victim dies from the pain. Other times, they didn't. They just lingered in a state of perpetual agony until someone finally put them out of their misery.

Aldric had never learned how to do it, and he never wanted to. Sure, he'd joined the darker side of life—smuggling people, running goods—but there was still a limit to how far he was willing to go, and willful torture was a hardline for him to cross.

Jeffery winced, drawing Aldric's attention to his wrists which were chafed raw and bleeding as they scraped against the null-metal cuffs. He hung from the ceiling, his neck, ankles, and wrists raw and bleeding from the shackles around them. His breathing was heavy, his voice raw and his entire body was covered in sweat.

Croaking, Jeffery spoke. "I've told you all that I can tell you. You can't get anything else from me."

Aldric didn't respond. He simply narrowed his eyes and let his senses slip back into Jeffery's emotional pool, sorting through the chaos of pain, pride, guilt, and madness churning inside the man.

Picking out a taut knot of pain, Aldric pulled the emotion to the surface and said. "This isn't physical pain. Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"No, I don't." Jeffery rasped, wincing as the shackles bit deeper into his raw wrists and ankles. Spitting out a blob of blood, sweat, and saliva, he continued, "My pain is my busines—"

"You want to tell me." Aldric cut him off as he injected a need to please into Jeffery's emotional pool. The effect was immediate. Jeffrey softened, his expression cracking. He looked away, face crumpling as the pain surged to the surface without Aldric's input.

"I lost my wife and my daughter five years ago when Sunstone attacked. They were all I ever had, all I ever cherished. After they died... I needed something. A purpose. I needed to feel part of something. And I found that purpose with the Children of the Watch." He let out a small, almost wistful smile. "We are going to end all wars with one final war. We are going to take over the whole continent… just as soon as the Legacy comes into his full—

He choked, his eyes widening as an oath sent a pang of immense pain lancing through him. He convulsed, his entire body shuddering as he paid for nearly leaking a secret.

Aldric watched the display with a grimace, frustrated that he hadn't gotten the full piece he was after. Still, he had something new. The Children's goal wasn't exactly a secret—their plan to seize control of the continent was common knowledge, something even their lowest grunts whispered with pride.

But Jeffery's final words had hinted at something different. Something they'd long suspected but had never confirmed. The Children had found Sárán Beithir's legacy. And they were grooming him, preparing him to come into his full strength.

This was the most valuable intel Aldric had pulled in the last eight hours, and if it was true, then the all-out war the Children were planning was far closer than anyone had anticipated.

He needed more information. A location, a date, anything concrete. Hurriedly scribbling a note to document what he'd just heard, Aldric waited until Jeffery's convulsions had passed before diving back in, this time probing his guilt to see if it would bring anything else to the surface.

It continued like that for the next two hours. And while Aldric managed to extract a few more tidbits—small details, minor confirmations—none of them came close to the weight of Jeffery's earlier revelation.

Every time he pushed Jeffery toward a sensitive truth, the oaths pulled him back. So intricate, so numerous were the bindings that sometimes multiple oaths triggered at once, wrenching the man away from his own words in agony.

It was maddening. Ten hours of relentless effort, and still no breakthrough beyond that one flash of truth.

Eventually, after one final attempt ended in another painful lockout, Aldric had to face it—this was beyond him. He couldn't get any more, not without bending the man's oaths. And that was a line he wouldn't cross.

With a weary sigh, he stepped over to the call button on the wall and pressed it.

The button vibrated and a few minutes later, Baron Shrapanelly arrived, a patient expression on his face. However, when he glanced at Jeffrey, Aldric sensed a spike of frustration and impatience. It was fleeting—rising to the surface only for a second before it was shoved back down.

Baron Shrapanelly stepped into the cell; hands clasped neatly behind his back. "What have you gotten from him?"

"Not much," Aldric replied, hesitating slightly.

Baron Shrapanelly was an advanced-class Awakened—nearly twenty-five tiers above him. That meant his emotional pool was far beyond Aldric's reach. He could still sense the man's surface emotions, just like he could with the guards stationed above his home, but their deeper layers remained murky and unreachable. All he got were flashes—brief spikes that vanished almost as quickly as they came. But even those were enough to tell him that something wasn't right.

Stolen story; please report.

Carefully watching the Baron, he continued, "I've managed to extract some key information. It's all written down in that notepad. But anything major is locked behind layers of oaths I can't bypass. At this point, I think we should hand him over to the Awakened Council or the military. They'll have their own methods of extraction."

"No." The word came out sharp, almost a shout—his mask of patience cracking just for a moment before settling back into place. "We can't hand him over yet. There has to be something else you can do."

"I've tried everything, sir," Aldric said, voice steady but weary. "For the past ten hours, I've exhausted every trick I know. This is the limit of what I can do."

"No." The Baron shook his head, more firmly this time, and again Aldric felt it—that sudden spike of emotion: hatred, desperation, and frustration, all twisted together in a brief, violent surge. And just like that, a clearer picture began to take shape in Aldric's mind.

Baron Shrapanelly stalked towards Jeffery, his fingers twitching as if they wanted to wrap themselves around Jeffery's throat and squeeze the life out of him. However, he held himself back and snarled. "Look at this man, Aldric. Look beyond the chains and his injuries. Look beyond your damned moral compass—and tell me what you see?"

"I don't think—

"He's a murderer and a fanatic," Baron Shrapanelly cut him off sharply. "This man and those like him are responsible for the death of hundreds—maybe even thousands. They do despicable things for their cause—killing children and women to create evil rituals. They are a disease and a scourge. Can't you see that they need to be rooted out?"

"I do not disagree with you, Baron—"

"Yet you shy away from doing what needs to be done, all in the name of good."

"I'm not shying away from killing him, Baron. I have no problem with that. But I will not torture a man, regardless of his crimes. That was not our agreement before I came down here. You said you needed a coercer, not a torturer."

Whatever veneer of calm and patience Baron Shrapanelly still wore collapsed at the moment and he stalked forward. "I don't care what you have to do. What I need is information. Get it for me."

"That wasn't our agreement," Aldric said firmly. "You know it's against the code of the Ravens."

Baron Shrapanelly stilled, a wave of calm seeming to wash over him. Slowly, he walked to a corner of the dungeon and whispered. "I'm sure there's something else you can do. Do it."

Cautious, Aldric replied, "No. What you're asking for isn't something I can do. You'll just have to hire someone else—or take back the Empathion core you gave me and pay me what I actually asked for, so we can go our separate ways without issue."

Baron Shrapanelly watched him silently for a long moment before speaking.

"You've known me for a few months now, Aldric. Haven't you? Tell me—in all that time, have you ever seen my family?"

Aldric hesitated, then shook his head.

Baron Shrapanelly let out a hollow chuckle. "Of course you haven't. How could you have? They're all dead—murdered by cultists. And what has the kingdom done since then? Burned down their outposts? Killed their grunge and trash members? Chased them around in circles?"

He paused, voice tightening with grief and fury. "What concrete thing have they done to the cultists? Nothing. They've been too busy with the war to care. Too busy to act. No… I will deal with this myself. I will take matters into my own hands—and you will help me."

Aldric sighed. He understood Baron Shrapanelly's pain. In truth, if something like that ever happened to his own family, he might do the same. And maybe that made him a hypocrite. But until that day came, he refused to cross the line.

Shaking his head, he said, "I know an empath who could help you with this. I could get him to come here."

Another spike of frustration.

"I don't want someone else." Baron Shrapanelly gritted out and glared at him. "I already trust you, and we already have an understanding—"

"One that you're breaking, Baron." Aldric's tone was firm but not unkind. "Look, I understand. As an empath, I probably understand more than you think, but I'm sorry—I won't do it. I can't. And even if I could do it… you cannot fight the children alone."

Baron Shrapanelly let out a bark of laughter, so tinged with malice and anger that it sent chills down Aldric's spine. "That's just the thing, Aldric. I'm far from alone. Now stop lying to me and do it. You can do it."

"You're not listening—"

"You're wasting time!" Baron Shrapanelly snapped, a torrent of anger bubbling up to the surface. "Quit hiding behind your petty rules and do what needs to be done. We are trying to help people here!"

Anger billowed out of the Baron uncontrollably and Aldric took a step back, realizing what he should have seen earlier. Baron Shrapanelly was too far gone to listen to reason. He had become obsessed with avenging his family and there was nothing he say to extricate himself now.

He shouldn't have agreed to it in the first place, and with the way things seemed, it was looking a little too late to back out. However, this wasn't the first time Aldric was getting himself in a pickle with a client. It was a hazard of the business, after all, and only a fool wouldn't be prepared.

Bracing himself for what he suspected would come, he replied firmly. "I'm sorry, Baron. But I'm not doing it. This is something better left to—

Pain exploded in his jaw as a punch sent him sprawling across the cell. His head slammed against the wall, vision flashing white. Before he could regain his senses, another punch sent a few teeth flying.

Pain lanced through him, but Aldric was no stranger to pain.

Even as stars danced in his vision, his fingers moved on instinct, snatching a heavy chunk of null metal from his spatial ring. Baron Shrapanelly reached for the third punch, and in one smooth motion, he snapped the null cuffs around Baron Shrapanelly's wrists.

It was one of his most powerful items, ranked as an Epic null item. It was also insanely heavy, and with its weight doubling every second it spent exposed to air, Baron Shrapanelly was dragged down by his own arms. He collapsed, groaning as his energy and willpower were near-instantly drained from him.

Unlike normal null metal cuffs, this one was specifically created and enhanced to keep powerful awakeneds down. Aldric had picked it out from a client's package three months ago after the merchant was reported dead, murdered by his allies.

The item had been with him ever since then, pulling him out of deadly situations with little trouble. The cuffs worked quickly, and in only a few seconds, Baron Shrapanelly was no better than a normal human. Everything he had was either drained or blocked, baring his emotional pool before Aldric in all their murky, and entangled glory.

Aldric wiped the blood from his mouth with the back of his sleeve, spitting a red streak onto the floor. "I didn't want it to come to this," he muttered. "But you left me no choice."

He leaned down, fingers moving swiftly as he rifled through the Baron's cloak. One by one, he pulled out every emergency trigger and call button stitched into the lining. He couldn't have the Baron calling Enrique or Asha for help. He only had one null cuff.

"What do you think you're doing?" Baron Shrapanelly shouted, struggling against the crushing weight of the cuffs. "How dare you—

"Calm down." Aldric cut him off, injecting a healthy dose of calm into Baron's emotional pool. Anger melted. Rage dulled. Frustration unraveled. And in their place, he warm, lulling contentment emerged, as if there was absolutely nothing to fight.

"What are you doing?" Baron Shrapanelly asked again, but this time, his tone was calm. Peaceful. Almost… grateful.

Aldric smiled. "I'm just trying to protect myself from you, Baron. I bear no ill will towards you, but I had to make you listen."

The Baron's eyelids fluttered and he murmured weakly. "No... no. I don't want to listen,"

Then, from the far corner of the cell, Jeffery finally spoke. "Please… please don't leave me here."

Aldric looked up at the cultist. "I'm not on your side, Jeffery, but I won't leave you here either. I will hand you over to the Military."

Baron Shrapanelly gave a bitter, sluggish chuckle "And who will trust a pirate and smuggler like you?"

Aldric scowled "First of all, I'm not a pirate. And second… I don't need them to trust me. They already trust my brother. That's enough."