Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 558: Furious Ken

The interrogator took hold of another finger before the pain from the first had even properly settled.Lucas’s body tensed immediately against the restraints, instinctively trying to pull away despite knowing there was nowhere to go, his breathing already rough from the previous agony as blood continued dripping slowly from the exposed fingertip.

The metal tool slid beneath the second nail.

Lucas’s jaw locked hard enough that the muscles along his face visibly tightened.

The interrogator watched him calmly.

Then pulled.

The pain hit instantly.

Sharp.

Blinding.

Lucas grunted violently through gritted teeth as his entire body jerked against the chair restraints, a strained sound forcing itself out of him despite every effort to contain it. Spit sprayed faintly through his clenched teeth as he sucked in ragged breaths, trying desperately to endure the wave of agony tearing through his hand.

The interrogator did not stop midway.

He ripped the nail free completely.

Lucas’s head snapped backward slightly as another harsh grunt escaped him, his chest heaving while pain pulsed so intensely through his nerves that it almost drowned out coherent thought entirely.

The sensation was unbearable.

Not broad pain like battle wounds.

Not dull suffering like bruises or broken bones.

This was concentrated torment, every nerve screaming with unnatural clarity while the exposed flesh beneath the torn nail throbbed viciously with every heartbeat.

Lucas trembled visibly now.

Sweat mixed with blood across his battered body while he fought to steady his breathing through clenched teeth, each inhale uneven and shaky despite his efforts to maintain control.

The interrogator casually dropped the second torn fingernail beside the first.

"You feel that?" he asked quietly. "That’s only the beginning."

Lucas lowered his head slightly, breathing heavily as pain continued surging through his hand in violent pulses, but even through it all, even with fear and agony clawing at him from every direction, he still forced himself to remain silent.

The interrogator stared at Lucas for several long seconds after the second fingernail dropped to the floor.

Lucas remained strapped to the chair, trembling faintly from pain and exhaustion, blood running down his ruined fingers while his chest rose and fell unevenly through clenched teeth. The agony still pulsed violently through his nerves, but despite everything, despite the fear clearly sitting deep behind his eyes now, he still refused to say a single useful word.

That silence slowly drained the remaining patience from the interrogator.

He exhaled once and set the metal tool aside.

Then his gaze moved upward toward Lucas’s face.

A different expression crossed his features.

Cold consideration.

"You know," he said quietly, "men like you usually care about appearances more than pain."

Lucas said nothing.

The interrogator reached back toward the leather pack and withdrew a thinner blade this time, sharper and more delicate than the others, designed not for depth but precision.

He stepped closer.

One hand grabbed Lucas roughly by the jaw, forcing his face upward despite the exhaustion weighing heavily against him.

"You’re still young," the interrogator murmured while examining him. "Still recognizable."

The blade lightly traced against Lucas’s cheek.

"Let’s see if that stubbornness survives after I start peeling this pretty face apart."

Lucas’s breathing roughened slightly.

Not from weakness.

From dread.

Because he knew the man meant every word.

The interrogator leaned closer again. "Where is the emperor."

Lucas slowly lifted his exhausted gaze toward him.

Blood stained his lips.

His voice came out weak and strained.

"Go to hell."

Genuine irritation flashed openly across the interrogator’s face.

"Very well."

He adjusted his grip on Lucas’s jaw and slowly raised the blade toward his face.

Then the door exploded open.

The entire room shook violently.

The soldiers turned instantly in alarm just as a terrifying pressure stormed into the chamber like a physical force, suffocating and furious enough to silence the entire room immediately.

Ken entered.

His face was filled with rage.

Not calm anger.

Not controlled fury.

Pure violent wrath.

The interrogator stepped back immediately. "Lord Ken, I was in the middle of extract—"

Ken struck him before he could finish.

Not even with full force.

Just a savage backhand that sent the interrogator crashing violently across the room into the stone wall hard enough to crack it.

The entire chamber froze.

Ken’s eyes landed on Lucas.

And whatever fury already burned inside him deepened further at the sight before him, the ruined chair, the blood, the torture wounds, the broken state Lucas had been reduced to.

He walked forward slowly.

Lucas lifted his head weakly, barely managing to focus through exhaustion and pain before Ken suddenly drove a brutal kick directly into his chest.

The impact was monstrous.

Lucas was launched completely, his body flew violently across the room before smashing hard into the far wall with enough force to shatter stone on impact.

The chair broke apart behind him.

Lucas collapsed heavily onto the ground beneath the cracked wall, all the air blasted from his lungs again as agony erupted through his already damaged chest.

He gasped desperately for breath.

Nothing came at first.

His body convulsed violently as he struggled to inhale, pain tearing through his ribs and lungs while blood spilled from his mouth onto the floor beneath him.

The room remained silent.

No one dared speak.

Ken slowly approached through the silence, overwhelming pressure filling the chamber while rage radiated from him so heavily that even the soldiers nearby looked afraid to breathe too loudly.

Lucas finally dragged in a broken breath.

Then another.

Each one painful.

Ken stopped a few feet from him and stared down coldly.

"So," he said furiously.

"You’re the insect who caused all this trouble."

Lucas lay crumpled against the shattered wall, barely able to breathe properly after the earlier kick, his entire body screaming in agony while blood pooled beneath him, and still he laughed.

That sound snapped something inside Ken.

He surged forward and drove another vicious kick into Lucas’s side.

Bones cracked.

Lucas was sent rolling violently across the floor before crashing into the base of another wall, coughing blood hard enough to stain the stone beneath him.

Ken followed immediately.

Another kick slammed into Lucas’s ribs.

Then another into his stomach.

Then another across his back before he could even fully curl from the previous impact.

The chamber echoed with the brutal sounds of repeated blows while the soldiers nearby stood frozen, none daring to intervene as Ken vented his fury directly onto Lucas’s broken body.

"We lost Lechia!" Ken roared furiously.

Another kick.

"The capital fell back into her hands!"

Another.

"The empress reclaimed the throne because of the chaos you continued to cause!"

Lucas gasped painfully after the latest blow, blood spilling from his mouth while his vision blurred heavily, but beneath the agony, beneath the exhaustion threatening to drag him unconscious, something warm still rose inside him at those words.

They succeeded.

Lechia was reclaimed.

The empress won.

Everything they endured...

It worked.

And suddenly the pain almost felt distant compared to that realization.

Lucas began laughing again.

Weakly.

Brokenly.

But undeniably laughing.

Ken stared at him in disbelief for a split second before rage exploded across his face even harder than before.

"You think this is amusing?" he snarled.

Lucas coughed painfully again, blood running down his chin while he forced himself to lift his head slightly despite the unbearable pain coursing through his body.

His voice came out rough and breathless.

"You’re losing."

The words hit harder than any attack.

Ken’s aura erupted violently throughout the room, pressure slamming against the walls hard enough to crack portions of stone as killing intent flooded the chamber.

The soldiers nearby instinctively stepped backward.

Lucas smiled faintly through blood.

That only enraged Ken further.

Ken grabbed him violently by the front of his torn clothes and slammed him back against the wall hard enough to shake the chamber.

"You think one victory changes anything?" Ken growled directly into his face. "I will crush Lechia again. I will slaughter every last person who stood against me."

Lucas breathed raggedly, barely conscious now, yet his eyes still carried defiance.

"You failed," he whispered.

Ken struck him across the face hard enough to snap his head sideways.

Then another blow landed to his stomach.

Then another.

Lucas’s battered body could barely even react properly anymore as Ken vented his fury relentlessly, every strike fueled not only by anger toward Lucas but by the humiliation of losing Lechia.

"You ruined years of preparation," Ken snarled. "Do you understand what you cost me?"

Lucas slowly looked back at him despite blood covering half his face.

"Good."

That single word nearly pushed Ken into killing him right there.

The pressure in the room surged dangerously as energy gathered instinctively around Ken’s hands, enough to completely obliterate Lucas in his current state, but before he could act further, one of the celestials stepped forward cautiously.

"My lord..."

Ken did not look away from Lucas.

The celestial continued carefully, "If he dies now, we lose the chance to recover the emperor’s location."

Silence stretched tensely.

Ken’s chest rose and fell heavily with fury as he stared at Lucas, whose condition had already deteriorated severely from both torture and the beating he had just received.

Finally, Ken released him violently.

Lucas collapsed hard onto the floor again, barely catching himself before hitting face-first into the bloodstained stone.

Ken looked down at him with murderous hatred.

"You should pray they continue needing information from you," he said coldly. "Because the moment they don’t..."

He left the rest unfinished.

He did not need to say it.

Lucas coughed weakly again, struggling just to breathe while pain consumed nearly every part of him now, yet despite that, despite everything they had done to him, one thought still burned quietly inside him.

Lechia was free.