Once the potion made from Sera’s Slave Mushrooms was complete, Ian moved to a hidden location—a place known only to a select few.
His destination was the base of operations for the shadows, those who handled Schrantz’s darker affairs.
Outwardly, it appeared to be nothing more than an abandoned mansion, but in truth, it was an old noble estate.
Since few ever ventured here, Ian had repurposed it as the shadows’ stronghold.
Adjacent to the mansion was an interrogation room—though in reality, it was just a disused storage shed on the verge of collapse.
Its eerie, damp atmosphere, the kind where a ghost might leap out at any moment, made it perfect for interrogations.
Yet even in such a place, no trace of fear could be seen in Tyler’s eyes.
Of course not. He had been trained to endure torture—this was nothing new to him.
“If you’re hoping to get anything out of me, you’re wasting your time. Don’t bother. Just kill me.”
Hearing those words, Ian couldn’t help but let out a laugh—a memory surfacing.
“That sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”
He glanced back at Nea, who stood silently behind him.
“Hmm? I wouldn’t know.”
She acted as if she didn’t know, though she vaguely recalled her own defiant words when she had first met Ian.
The only difference between her and Tyler was that she hadn’t threw vicious insults at him.
Ian turned his attention back to Tyler, seated across from him.
“We don’t use barbaric methods like torture.”
“Hah. As if I’d believe that coming from a northerner. But I don’t see any torture tools, so what? Planning to beat me instead?”
“Just what kind of image do you have of us?”
Ian’s expression twisted in disbelief.
What kind of monsters did the north represent in this man’s mind?
“If not that, then it’s obvious. Trying to persuade me? Bribe me? Or maybe coax me with sweet words? None of it will work. Just kill me.”
“Wow, impatient much?”
If he was so eager to get things moving, Ian would oblige.
His gaze shifted to the two shadows standing behind Tyler.
“Feed him.”
“Yes, sir!”
The moment the order left his lips, the shadows forced Tyler’s mouth open.
“What the—! Mmmph—!”
The interrogator poured the potion down his throat.
Tyler resisted, but with his limbs tightly bound, his struggles were futile.
Once the deed was done, the shadows retreated.
“Cough! What the hell did you just—?”
“Wait for it. You’ll find out soon enough. In the meantime, if you have any questions for me, ask now. I’ll answer what I can.”
“……”
“No? Fine. Everyone, out. I’ll handle the interrogation alone. Nea, you too. If I need you, I’ll ring the bell.”
“Understood!”
Once the room was cleared, Ian sat back, arms crossed, and simply watched Tyler.
It didn’t matter if the man spoke or not—Ian was just waiting.
‘What is he planning?’
Since being forced to drink that mysterious liquid, Tyler hadn’t been touched.
Even with his training, torture wasn’t pleasant—but this was something else entirely.
Then, slowly, a strange sensation crept over him.
‘Why do I feel so… heavy?’
Fatigue washed over him.
His mind grew hazier by the second.
Five minutes passed.
His vision blurred. His body slumped, strength draining away.
“Looks like it’s working.”
Ian finally unfolded his arms and spoke.
“State your name, birthplace, and affiliation.”
“My name… is Parmann. Born in the western territory of Count Della. Member of the Imperial 1st Shadow Corps… and covert bodyguard to His Highness, the Second Prince.”
‘…Damn, it’s fast.’
Words that should never have left his lips spilled out effortlessly.
Ian had once brewed this potion during an alchemist playthrough, but he’d never actually used it on someone.
Back then, he’d made it for a royal quest—he hadn’t even seen its effects firsthand.
But now, witnessing it in action…
‘This is terrifying.’
He finally understood why most nations had banned it.
A hardened Imperial Shadow operative—someone who should’ve been immune to threats, bribes, and coercion—was singing like a canary.
He’d even revealed his role as the prince’s personal shadow guard.
That was top-tier classified intel.
‘I’ll have to make sure Sera keeps her mouth shut.’
If word got out that he’d used this, there’d be no easy way out.
“What is your purpose in Schrantz?”
“By order of His Highness, the Second Prince, I was sent to monitor Ian von Schrantz.”
“The Second Prince ordered you to spy on me? Why?”
The words that left Tyler’s lips caught even Ian slightly off guard.
Why? That was the first question that sprang to his mind.
“I don’t know the full details myself. But if I had to guess… Schrantz has become the second most powerful territory in the north after the Duchy of Endran. Naturally, it would draw attention…”
“Well… that’s true, I suppose.”
After their victory in the Great Schrantz Alliance, Schrantz had risen to become the second strongest domain in the north.
They had reclaimed lost lands, were exporting mithril and iron ore from Ansen, and amassing wealth at an alarming rate.
The population was growing, and with the influx of iron from Ansen, even their soldiers were being fully rearmed.
At this point, aside from the Duchy of Endran, no other northern territory could realistically oppose Schrantz.
“On top of that, refugees fleeing other territories are flocking to Schrantz, causing a drain on their original populations. And in the midst of this famine, Schrantz is the only place still producing food.”
‘Well, he’s not wrong.’
Ian nodded in reluctant agreement.
Their warehouses were overflowing with Levior—enough to distribute across the entire empire if they wanted.
And who had been tirelessly stockpiling and cultivating it since last year? None other than Ian himself.
Since he’d orchestrated all of this, it made sense that his movements would be scrutinized.
“There’s one more thing. His Highness considers Ian von Schrantz a potential threat… and suspects him of ulterior motives.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Ian blinked in disbelief.
The Second Prince suspected him?
Had he done anything to give such distrust?
‘Not that I can recall.’
As far as he knew, he’d just been minding his own business in Schrantz.
‘And it’s not like anything we’ve done is particularly suspicious.’
Schrantz had remained neutral in the conflict. They hadn’t provided any game-changing support to the Duchy of Endran—just the bare minimum in trade.
“Countless civilians are fleeing the war and heading north—even now. His Highness believes Duke Endran is using Schrantz to weaken imperial unity and strength. We’ve also uncovered intelligence that the Duke has ordered his allies to stop selling us food.”
Ian was speechless.
Let him make one thing clear: neither he nor Schrantz had taken any prince’s side.
‘Hell, I’d love to sell Levior to the Second Prince’s faction and make even more money.’
But that simply wasn’t an option.
The north was under Duke Endran’s influence, and by extension, the Third Prince’s.
The Duke, more invested in this civil war than anyone, was watching like a hawk. Openly trading with the enemy? Impossible.
Even if Ian wanted to, every neighboring territory was aligned with the Third Prince.
‘The moment I openly declare support for the Second Prince, “Schrantz Raid Season 2” begins.’
And this time, it wouldn’t be the Earl of Erce leading the charge—it’d be the Duchy of Endran at the control of a second Great Schrantz Alliance.
Even Ian couldn’t win against that.
‘The Second Prince’s paranoia is on another level. What kind of scheming villain does he think I am?’
Ian had played routes siding with the Second Prince before.
If the Second Prince won the civil war and ascended the throne, one event was inevitable:
A bloody purge.
The Second Prince would execute countless people—including many who had fought for him during the war.
‘Maybe it’s because his own family betrayed him for the Third Prince.’
Already prone to suspicion, the betrayal had twisted him even further.
The trauma of being abandoned by his family had turned him into an unforgiving tyrant.
Once suspicion took root in his mind, he never let go.
Ian had resigned early in those playthroughs to avoid the purge, but forum threads were full of players driven mad by his paranoia.
‘Ugh, I’m already exhausted just thinking about it.’
He knew all too well what a nightmare it was to clear his name once the Second Prince doubted you.
Ian pressed his fingers against his temples to stop the throbbing headache building up and sighed.
Thanks for the chapter. The chapter number is wrong; it’s supposed to be 104.
Thank you for that. I don’t even know why I made such a stupid mistake.