Napoleon of Another World!

Even in an immense construction site constantly in motion like Faria had been for months, it was not easy to make three barrels of gunpowder disappear from a military depot and get away with it.

Just making few questions and investigate a little had been enough to isolate all those who for one reason or another could have been involved in the theft.

Eventually the name of a night watchman with a gambling problem had surfaced; in order to save his neck, he immediately confessed that he had accepted a lot of money to look elsewhere during a guard shift, thus allowing to finally finding out the thief.

As Adrian feared, it was a follower of the Warriors of Eirinn.

And for anyone plotting against Daemon and the Revolution, the worst thing was not having to deal with him, or with Scalia; but end up in the hands of the Shrouded.

They had only existed for a few months, but despite this, they had already gained a certain reputation among the few who knew of their existence.

It was said that their real names were a secret even between themselves, and they had one thing in common: each of them had stories behind them where the mere fact of being part of the regular army could have damaged the reputation of the Free State.

Their aim was to act in the shadows, where soldiers and common agents could not or did not want to go, and their loyalty to the cause was absolute.

After finding the thief, they took him to the basement of the town hall to find out what he and his companions had in mind, but when Adrian reached them the guy still hadn't spilled the beans despite the beatings.

"I'm sorry, my lord." said Raven, the unit commander, when Adrian entered the cell. "We've tried everything, but we can't get him to talk."

In fact, just looking at what was left of him was enough to understand that the Shrouded had used all their knowledge in an attempt to break him. But despite his broken fingers, his cracked ribs, his face now reduced to a bloody meatball, that boy continued to stare mockingly at his torturers, with the awareness of someone who felt ready to follow his own ideals until death.

Unfortunately for him, Adrian had his own way of getting a confession.

"I'll tell you how it works." he said, pulling a servant stone from his cloak. «I will ask the questions and you will answer. Otherwise, what you have experienced so far is nothing compared to what awaits you."

Then, without much ceremony, he forced the stone into one of his many wounds.

"Last chance."

"Go to hell."

"As you wish."

If it hadn't been for the fireworks, the celebrations, and that they were three floors underground, the whole city would have heard his terrifying screams.

Being burned alive, drowning without being able to swim, being crushed under a weight that suffocated you, feeling your bones breaking from the inside. Adrian seemed to know every single way a servant stone could make a living being feel pain, always stopping just short of causing irreparable consequences.

Despite everything, that boy managed to resist for almost two hours; but in the end, he had to give in.

"It's too late now..."

"Late for what? What have you planned?"

"... The usurper will die... he will taste his own medicine... he will feel the same pain as us..."

Then Adrian concluded that they planned to blow up Daemon using his own gunpowder. Now it was a question of understanding where and how they intended to do it; and since there was no doubt that the Warriors were aiming to strike Daemon right at his moment of greatest triumph, Adrian knew he couldn't waste any more time.