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A high-pitched scream echoed in the dimly lit stone chamber.

“Augh… ah!”

Each time the whip, branching like stalks of wheat or rice, sliced through the air, Renée’s body felt like it would explode with pain.

Normally, this building was used as a prison. It was a place to throw arrested criminals until their trial, and a living space for convicts. But now, the Royal Faction’s knights had requisitioned a corner of it for Renée.

There was no torture equipment originally, but they carried ominous devices into a spacious room that could hold about six people, turning it into a makeshift torture chamber.

Renée was fitted with manacles, and her hands were further restrained by chains from the ceiling. The height was perfectly adjusted to inflict pain on the suspended person with their own weight, while forcing them to stand on tiptoes to exhaust their stamina. Moreover, the unnatural posture made them defenseless against attacks, increasing their suffering.

Whenever Renée was brought to this room, there were always several torturers present. They all wore armor with emblems, as if boasting of their armor, their proof of being knights. As if torturing Renée was a noble duty as knights.

When they looked at Renée, their faces were either contorted with burning rage, or with sadistically mocking smiles.

To avoid accidentally killing her, methods of torture that inflicted great pain with minimal damage were chosen, and a magician capable of using recovery magic was always present.

The reason they weren’t killing her was solely because they were planning to publicly execute Renée soon. The torturers repeatedly told Renée this, in order to psychologically break her.

The whip struck Renée’s exposed torso repeatedly, and she screamed again.

Her throat felt like it was burning from screaming so much.

“I-It hurts, augh, uwaaaah!!” “Don’t think you can be forgiven just by crying!!”

A hysterical, hoarse voice hammered at Renée’s eardrums.

She already knew that crying wouldn’t make them stop. She knew, but it was still so painful and frightening that tears flowed freely.

“You traitor, colluding with the Federation and selling out the country, you degenerate daughter of the king! Why were you living near the border with the Federation?! What kind of contact did you have with the Federation?! You must know! Tell us!!”

The question was repeated countless times.

She lived near the border with the Federation because prejudice against the “silver-haired, silver-eyed cursed child” was less prevalent there due to the strong influence of Federation culture, so no one said anything bad about Renée’s appearance. Also, relations with the Federation had always been good (even if it was a subordinate relationship), and the risk of the border suddenly erupting into conflict was much smaller compared to other border regions.

Her mother had mentioned it several times, and Renée had understood the situation to some extent even as a child.

Besides, even if they called her the king’s daughter, Rene had never even known that she was the king’s daughter until recently.

She had never been involved in the king’s policies towards the Federation, or any behind-the-scenes negotiations. Because she knew nothing, there was no way Rene could know anything.

But that didn’t seem to be the answer the torturers were looking for, and no matter how many times she said it, they would yell “Tell the truth!” and whip her even more as punishment for lying.

Rene could only cry and scream.

“I don’t know… hic… I don’t know anything!” “You’re lying!!” “Augh…!”

The whip struck Rene’s back.

If she said she didn’t know, she would be accused of lying.

Renée wished they would just tell her what answer they wanted. She would say it exactly as they wanted.

But maybe there was no answer they were looking for from the start. Maybe the purpose was to use torture as a pretense, make false accusations, and inflict suffering.

Leaning her weight on her suspended arms, Renée slumped down.

Her shoulders creaked from the unnatural posture, but there was nothing she could do.

“Uwaa… hic…” “Tch… Her screams are getting weaker. Change the method.” “Yes, sir!”

The torturer who had been ordered left, returning with something from the next room.

It was a heated poker.

“Here you go.”

The poker was pressed against her.

With pain as if a thousand bees were stinging her skin at the same time, Rene arched her back.

“Aaaaaaah!!”

A scream squeezed from the depths of Renée’s throat.

“Seriously, a kid’s screams have no sex appeal,”

The torturer stated, giving his arbitrary opinion after seeing her reaction.

“A, ah… a… ho, hot, hot… hot, ho…t…”

Hearing Renée’s words repeated like a mantra in a daze, the torturer grabbed her silver hair and pulled her face up.

“Hot? It’s hot, huh? It’s hot, alright! Let’s cool you down!”

Behind the torturer, whose eyes were gleaming maniacally, another torturer was standing.

Holding an iron pot filled with boiling water.

“Hic…” “…This should be colder than a burnt iron.”

The contents of the pot…

*

“Waaaaah!”

Screaming, Iris Lune shot up and realized that she wasn’t in the stone torture chamber, but on a fluffy bed.

Through the gaps in the delicately embroidered curtains, she could see the dawn sky beginning to turn bluish-purple.

Out of breath as if she had just sprinted up an entire mountain, her heart was pounding as if it would burst, and her body was soaked with sweat as if she had been caught in a torrential downpour.

“…A dream…”

Iris Lune muttered as if to confirm that it had been a dream.

As an undead, Renée didn’t need sleep or rest. However, Iris’s body, which she was temporarily inhabiting, was different. When it was exhausted, it needed sleep. And she had a nightmare of hell.

A memory of a living hell that was too lukewarm to be called a nightmare.

The Royal Faction knights who captured Renée tortured her for the sole purpose of inflicting pain.

In retrospect, it was because tormenting Renée was their sense of justice. It was an attack against the reign of the former king, whom they saw as absolute evil.

Above all, they were caught up in a frenzy, had comrades, and Renée was powerless, so their attacks became so harsh. Becoming more cruel the more you think you are superior is a human trait that probably hasn’t changed since the age of apes.

Iris Lune looked around the still-dark room. The fireplace, which had been burning all night, dimly illuminated the room.

A four-poster bed, a fluffy carpet. Even the walls were beautifully decorated, and the furniture all seemed to shine with graceful curves. A room where throwing a single mud ball would likely waste a fortune. It was a guest room in Count Keighley’s mansion, which she was occupying alone, separated from the rest of the party.

Countess Catherine and Iris Lune were supposed to alternate using the two guest rooms to sleep. This was to create confusion in case assassins were targeting Catherine.

This was a warm bed. A temporary position as an adventurer on a job.

It was okay to feel safe. This wasn’t a cold stone prison, there were no terrible torture devices, and there were no clumsy, cruel torturers.

– Haha… Isn’t that stupid? Safe? I’m the strongest undead right now, right?

Iris Lune let out a shaky, bitter laugh.

If Renée were captured now, she could make anyone regret being born. As long as an exceptional enemy like Lawrence didn’t appear.

The resurfacing of her past life’s memories made her feel mentally stronger because of the added life experience.

But in the dream, Renée was nothing more than a powerless girl.

“I’m… strong. Next time, I’ll kill them.”

Iris Lune said, as if to convince herself.

It was as if the Renée in her memory was roaring, “Don’t forget the resentment.”

Don’t forget that humiliation, that pain, that terror.

Don’t forget the resentment of having everything taken away from her: her kind and beautiful mother, her peaceful life.

Nothing but revenge can heal this soul…!

Renée doesn’t think of herself as being righteous.

From now on, Renée will take more than what was taken from her, and hurt more than what was hurt. The target of her revenge will be her relatives, innocent children, she will curse and kill every last descendant. She will kill them unreasonably. She will kill them miserably. If there are any who resent Renée and plot revenge for revenge, she will trample on them and laugh at them. If necessary, she will use even the innocent as sustenance.

There’s no way such actions could be righteous. But right and wrong no longer matter. Renée won’t stop until the dark flame of resentment burning within her consumes everything.

“Kill… Kill… Kill!”

Then Iris Lune slammed her fist on the bed and noticed a strangely damp sensation. From her lower body to the sheets, it was soaked to a degree that couldn’t be explained by sweat.

Even after searching Iris’s memories, there was no sign of such an embarrassing habit. In that case, it must be because of the memories Rene brought with her. That nightmare was too much for a human body to handle.

“Ugh… This is the worst…”

Between ragged breaths, Iris Lune let out a sigh as heavy as lead.

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