'What's Wrong With Your Head?'

"That's enough."

Heinz's voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade, demanding absolute silence.

Florian stiffened, every nerve in his body taut as he locked eyes with Arthur. Even bound in chains, the rogue held his head high, his lips curled into a smug grin. There was no fear in his gaze, no resignation—just an infuriating sense of amusement, as if he were the one in control.

"Lancelot, Lucius… get more information from this rogue. Use any method necessary."

Heinz's tone was cold, final, devoid of even the slightest trace of hesitation.

The knights bowed in silent obedience, their movements swift and disciplined, their mere presence an omen of inevitable agony.

Arthur chuckled—a low, grating sound that slithered under Florian's skin like a parasite. "And you, Your Majesty… always so high and mighty because you've scared other kingdoms into submission with your big bad dragon and your fancy powers."