CHAPTER 74: HATRED

Noah swayed slightly as he hung from the ceiling, his wrists still encased in the cold iron bands, which bit mercilessly into his skin.

His shoulders burned from the strain of his own weight, but that pain had long ago faded into the background.

It was basically a dull, constant throb that was nothing compared to the agony that had been seared into his soul over and over again.

He didn’t know how much time had passed. It might have been days, weeks, months... years, even. Time had lost all meaning in the endless cycle of pain and brief lucidity, only to be dragged back under again.

He had long since lost count of how many times Osiris had used the spell on him. The moments in between felt no different than the moments within. Both were colored by the memories of the burns that made his chest tighten and his mind flinch at every flicker of light.

Now, Osiris sat before him, calm as ever. The man’s red hair, streaked with white, seemed almost unreal in the dim lighting of the room.

His eyes, those cold, empty eyes, studied Noah as if he was a specimen in a jar.

"Let’s verify something." Osiris said, his voice carrying the steady cadence of someone who could sit here forever. "Your real rank. What did you say it was again?"

Noah had since given up any plans of keeping things to himself a long time ago. He’d told Osiris everything his broken mind could remember.

His voice was hoarse, cracked from screaming, but he forced the words out anyway. "SSS. My real rank is SSS."

"And how," Osiris asked, leaning forward slightly, "would an SSS-rank manage to hide in the academy’s assessment records without so much as a ripple?"

"I have a B-rank Darkness spell." Noah rasped. "Devour. That’s how I survived in that C-rank dungeon. That’s how I..."

Osiris’s lips twitched into something that might have been a smile, but there was no warmth in it. "A convenient story. But unverified. And highly unlikely."

"It’s the truth!" Noah snapped, voice breaking with desperation.

Osiris ignored him, glancing briefly at a paper on the table before looking back up. "We’ve called in Leo Hargreaves for questioning."

Noah froze. His heart beat faster. "And?"

"Leo denied ever setting foot in a monolith." Osiris said flatly. "In fact, when we checked his alibi, both his and Galahad’s movements for that day were accounted for. Every single minute."

Noah’s heart sank. Leo and Galahad had taken steps to cover their tracks. They’d covered their asses while he was here, suffering.

Then, his eyes widened as he remembered someone else. "Arlo! Check Arlo! He’ll know I’m telling the truth. His eyes—"

"There’s no need." Osiris interrupted, his tone final. "Because they’re all noble kids. They wouldn’t stoop so low as to associate with you."

For a moment, Noah could only stare at him. Then a bitter laugh escaped his lips, raw and humorless.

"That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t believe me because I’m not a noble. Because I’m not from some family with influence and coin. Because I was a stupid idiot who didn’t show everybody his real rank!"

Osiris tilted his head slightly. "You’re half right."

Noah glared. "Half?"

"I don’t believe you," Osiris said, his voice suddenly cutting, "because you are the lowest scum. Born in the dirt, and still rolling in it. But don’t worry..." He raised his hand, the faint heat of mana gathering in the air. "A few more spells, and we’ll get to the bottom of things."

The fiery spell formation began to spin above his palm, glowing brighter, feeding off the mana flowing into it.

Noah’s stomach twisted, and he could already feel the phantom pain before it even touched him.

"No! Wait! We can—"

But the plea was swallowed by the flare of the spell.

Pain slammed into him like a tidal wave, burning through something that could never be touched by sword or fire. His soul screamed.

The agony was indescribable, as if the very essence of his being had been pulled out, doused in oil, and set alight with a heat that had no end.

His emotions surged, magnified until they drowned him. Terror screamed in his mind, clawing at his sanity, but it was chased closely by something darker.

Hatred.

It began as a spark, small and barely noticeable beneath the roar of agony. But the more the pain suffused his entire being, the more the spark caught, spreading like wildfire through the haze.

He hated Osiris. He hated the nobles who walked freely while he was chained here. He hated the system that decided worth based on lineage, that judged him before he even opened his mouth. He hated that Leo and Galahad would be believed without question while he was left to rot.

The hatred grew, feeding on itself, becoming colder against the heat of the burn.

It twisted around the pain, wrapping it in a black coil that refused to break. Every surge of fire against his soul only poured fuel onto it until it was the only thing left.

Pain. Hate. Pain. Hate.

They blurred together until they were indistinguishable, until all that was Noah was the raw, burning need to see those who put him here razed to the ground.

The spell dragged on, stretching seconds into eternities. The room around him had long since faded away, and all he could see was Osiris’s face, cold and unmoved, framed in the blaze of the formation.

And still, the hatred grew.

When at last the spell faded, it left him hanging in the chains, head bowed, chest heaving.

His body trembled with the aftershocks, but his mind clung to the single thing the fire couldn’t burn away.

Hatred.

It had rooted itself deep, past the pain, past the exhaustion, past the hopelessness. And though the phantom burns still clawed at his soul, Noah felt it there, simmering, waiting.

Osiris leaned back in his chair, studying him like one might a creature that had survived an impossible ordeal.

"You’ll talk eventually." He said calmly. "They always do."

Noah didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Not yet. His throat was raw, and his head felt heavy, but deep inside, the ember of hatred glowed brighter.

And it was all he had left.