Rodney XVIII stared at the wizard with great interest for a while.
He had assumed that wizards would look rather unusual, but apart from his somewhat sinister expression, Dirk Doyle's appearance was no different from that of an ordinary person.
That makes sense. If wizards looked different, how could they have hidden themselves in human society for so many years without being wiped out?
His fingers tapped lightly on the table, the candlelight casting flickering shadows on his stern face.
"You don't sound like a loyal subordinate."
Dirk Doyle suddenly grinned, revealing a few yellowed teeth. He leaned forward, the shackles on his wrists rattling.
"Loyalty?" His voice was like sandpaper scraping. " Giles and I are just mutually dependent—he needs my drugs, and I need his live test subjects."
Dirk licked his chapped lips, his cloudy eyes fixed on the king. "But for a truly great monarch like yourself, I am willing to offer my true loyalty."
Rodney XVIII was caught off guard by the wizard's defection.
Rodney XVIII's finger hovered in mid-air, the candlelight flickering in his eyes: "What value do I have in accepting your allegiance?"
Dirk's withered fingers twisted together: "My potions can keep soldiers awake for three days straight, triple their wound healing speed, boost their strength, and maintain their high morale..."
"But my army has just crushed Giles's potion troops." The king interrupted him calmly, tapping his fingertips lightly on the table.
The wizard's cheek twitched. "That's because the potion's potential hasn't been fully realized, and Giles hasn't invested enough in me to support further research!"
He shrank back, his voice hoarse again: "With the support of the royal family, I can develop an enhancement potion that allows an ordinary person to defeat an orc in a one-on-one fight..."
The king's gaze swept over the dried medicine stains under Dirk's fingernails, and silence spread between the two like the chill of a dungeon.
Suddenly, Rodney XVIII gave a cold snort: "Wizard, do you know what kind of image you have in the public eye?"
"Oh, of course…" Doyle nodded heavily. "In the eyes of the public, we have always been treacherous and cunning, fond of evil magic and intrigue."
Rodney XVIII laughed. "If that's the case, why do you have such wishful thinking! The Aldo Royal Family will never protect you sorcerers!"
Despite Rodney XVIII's sarcasm, Dirk Doyle showed no sign of discouragement. He suddenly chuckled, blood seeping from his cracked lips: "Does Your Majesty know that since the victory at Horn Bay, the merchants there have openly hired sorcerers?" He raised his wrists, which were chafed raw by the shackles, "and the Gabella Empire's Emperor Antonio himself is a powerful spellcaster."
" Gabella? What nonsense are you spouting?" Rodney XVIII thought the wizard in front of him was making up stories.
"You didn't know, did you?" Dirk Doyle continued with a smile, "Emperor Antonio Griffin has another identity— the leader of the Arcane Society, a Spellcaster organization. That country has been entangled with magic for a long time. The real reason for the war that Gabella is currently waging against the Papacy is most likely related to magic. I estimate that it won't be long before you hear news of the legalization of Spellcasters within Gabella."
Dirk's voice pierced Rodney XVIII's ears with increasing clarity: "Your Majesty, when other nations are using magic to enhance their power, will Aldor continue to stubbornly adhere to tradition?"
His body was hunched, but his eyes were unusually bright. "As the ruler of Aldor, you must know that history... never waits for those who fall behind. It must be admitted that the strength of myself and my companions may be insignificant, but we can set an example for other Spellcasters. When you show goodwill towards Spellcasters, more and more powerful mages will come to serve Your Majesty. I—"
"Enough!" Rodney XVIII slammed his finger on the table, stopping the wizard from continuing.
He suddenly changed the subject: "You really don't know Giles's whereabouts?"
The king suddenly changed the subject.
Dirk's sunken eye sockets appeared even deeper in the candlelight. "I have been interrogated countless times by the jailers about this matter." He licked his dry, cracked lips. "I swear to you, Your Majesty, I truly do not know where Grand Duke Greedy Wolf is. When he was first imprisoned by your soldiers, I thought he had died in the chaos of battle or had been captured like me."
The wizard's voice sounded like withered leaves rubbing together.
"However… speaking of the Arcane Society just now reminded me of something." He hunched over and leaned forward, his chains rattling. " Giles had dealings with people from the Arcane Society before he recruited me."
Rodney XVIII's breath hitched. Earl Merlin had told him that some of the supplies Giles used for the war came from Gabella, and that several inexplicable phenomena had occurred during the kingdom's civil war. Now, he was learning from this wizard that Gabella was backed by the Arcane Society.
"The last time was when the Royal Army conquered the Southern Territory." Dirk's voice became hoarse. "A mysterious person with a Gabella accent delivered a letter… If Giles really disappeared, I guess it was the Gabella people or the Arcane Society who got involved."
Rodney XVIII sat quietly for a while, then suddenly stood up, his black cloak sweeping across the floor in an arc. "That's all for today."
Dirk immediately hunched over and coughed, his withered fingers rubbing his knees. "Your Majesty, I must say, the Crystal Radiance prison should offer prisoners a little bit of humane treatment. This godforsaken place is so damp it's making my bones feel like they're about to fall apart." He raised his cloudy eyes. "My companions and I breathe polluted air every day, eat rotten bread that's harder than a rag, and drink sewage that smells worse than urine."
The king ignored him and turned to walk toward the iron gate, but as he stepped across the threshold, he turned his head slightly and said something to the warden.
Dirk's handcuffed hands suddenly stopped rubbing his knees.
The next day, as the jailer unlocked the door to his new cell, sunlight streamed through the small window high up, illuminating the dry straw mat. Dirk squinted and saw a clay pot filled with water and steaming black bread in the corner. A slow grin spread across his face—this was exactly the result he wanted from the test.
In the courtyard where the exercise yard was open, the other six wizards stood silently in the sunlight, their brand-new prison uniforms fluttering gently in the breeze. The guards, though still holding their weapons, had retreated ten paces away.