30 Years After Reincarnating, It Turns Out This World Was A Rofan?! novel Chapter 114

The Disjointing the Muscles, Misaligning the Bones technique, living up to its horrifying name, continued for over thirty minutes.

Of course, it didn’t actually separate flesh from bone, but the pain inflicted surely felt like it did. To Roy Vant, those thirty minutes must have stretched into thirty years of agony.

By the time Ihan finally stopped, Roy was little more than a hollow shell of a man, barely clinging to life. His frail state made it seem as though death could claim him at any moment.

Despite the horrific scene, Ihan showed no remorse.

“What a stubborn bastard. He kept his mouth shut tighter than I expected.”

“I think it wasn’t stubbornness so much as you not giving him the chance to speak, Senior.”

“Watch your tone.”

“...Yes, sir.”

Yord quickly silenced himself at Ihan’s stern glare.

Having witnessed the brutal scene of Roy’s twisted muscles and bones snapping back into place, Yord didn’t dare to challenge Ihan further. For anyone else, it might have been a traumatizing sight, a lasting scar on the mind.

Yord now understood why so many interrogators suffered from severe psychological issues.

And yet, Ihan remained unshaken. His actions, while cruel, carried the mechanical efficiency of someone performing an unpleasant but necessary task. Watching him, Yord couldn’t help but break into a nervous sweat.

‘Senior Ihan... is truly thorough.’

Yord couldn’t claim to fully understand Ihan, but he was beginning to grasp the essence of the man. Ihan was someone who showed no mercy to his enemies. Once someone was labeled a foe, Ihan would relentlessly pursue them, employing any means necessary to crush them.

To some, that might seem natural for a knight. But those who knew better understood that knowledge and action were separated by a chasm as vast as the sky and the earth.

‘I hope I never face him as an enemy. If I ever cross swords with him, let it be for training, not out of hostility.’

As Yord reflected on Ihan’s nature, Jake, who had spent three years by Ihan’s side, seemed entirely unfazed.

“Well, at least we got more out of him than I expected.”

Jake’s expression was similarly detached. He showed no trace of pity for Roy Vant, nor did he seem disturbed by Ihan’s methods.

“...That’s unexpected,” Yord muttered under his breath. “I thought you’d be more outraged by something like this.”

The voice didn’t come from Yord, though. It was Arend, who looked deathly pale, his face drained of all color. The eighth prince, shaking visibly, seemed to expect that Jake, the most composed of the group, would voice some moral or ethical objection to the interrogation.

But Jake’s response was cold and calculated.

“He’s a threat to Pendragon. Yes, this violates the principles of humanity and knighthood. But a knight’s duty is to protect the kingdom and its people. If that means being labeled a demon by the enemy, then so be it. I’m not about to waste my emotions on someone who threatens Pendragon’s peace, Your Highness.”

“......”

“If my actions make you uncomfortable, I suggest you return to the capital. I’ll convince him to let you go.”

“......”

For the first time, Jake referred to Arend as “Your Highness” rather than using his title as a knight or commander. The implication couldn’t have been clearer: Arend was being told to go back to the sheltered life of royalty and leave knighthood behind.

Crack!

Arend clenched his fists so tightly his knuckles popped.

If he could endure such an insult without feeling his pride wounded, could he still call himself a man, let alone a knight?

“Watch your mouth, Jake Farman. I am not just the Eighth Prince—I am the Commander of the First Division of the Silver Lions! Know your place!”

Despite his fury, Jake only nodded slightly in response.

“...My apologies, Sir Arend.”

“Damn you!”

Arend’s anger wasn’t directed solely at Jake. It was aimed at himself—his own inadequacies, his failure to act with dignity in such a moment.

‘I am a knight of the Silver Lions!’

Gritting his teeth, Arend glared at Jake. While the older knight’s blunt words had sobered him up, they still stung deeply.

“...Now I see why you and that monster get along so well.”

‘Honestly, Senior Ihan... I think you’re the root cause of all this.’

Later