Noen fixed the last masked man with an intense stare.
The man swallowed audibly.
His shoulders pulled up, as if he instinctively wanted to make himself smaller, but Noen's gaze gave him no room for that.
With a quick, controlled movement, Noen grabbed his arm.
The masked man flinched and immediately tried to tear himself free — but Noen's grip was perfectly placed. Tight enough that there was no escape. Precise enough that it didn't hurt.
Exactly the kind of hold that left no hope.
"WHO ARE YOU?"
"WHAT DID YOU WANT FROM ME?"
The masked man was trembling all over.
His breathing was frantic.
His fingers clawed at empty air.
But he said nothing.
"ANSWER ME!"
Silence.
Only the crackling of the fire.
The distant snorting of the horses.
Noen closed his eyes briefly.
Exhaled.
Then he simply dragged the man with him, pulling him over to the other unconscious bodies. His movements were calm, almost mechanical, as if he had made this decision a long time ago.
He positioned himself slightly behind the masked man.
The precise strike.
To the side of the neck.
A technique often used in the Black Synod.
Fast.
Effective.
Non-lethal.
Noen swung—
And stopped.
His arm didn't touch the neck.
He frowned.
Tried again.
A minimal change in angle.
Same technique.
Again, nothing.
An invisible barrier.
Clear.
Tangible.
Noen lowered his gaze.
— Lum? —
The realization hit him quietly, but unmistakably.
— That means… you're not evil at all. —
The masked man kept trembling.
Then he straightened up just a little.
The shaking remained, but there was something else in his voice now.
Defiance.
Almost pride.
"Well then," he said, "if you can't hurt me, I don't have to give you any answers either!"
Noen's expression didn't change.
He simply grabbed him again.
With a fluid motion, he pulled the masked man toward him, twisted him around, and hauled him up — piggyback, brutally pragmatic. The man gasped and reflexively clung on.
He started hitting Noen.
Fists.
Elbows…
But nothing got through.
Lum held firm.
"You're really going to run all the way back with me on your back?" the masked man asked tensely.
"Yes."
"Ahh, you bastard!!"
He kept striking, frustrated, helpless.
Noen barely felt it.
— I'll have to leave the others behind for now…
But a man with godly powers who can still think clearly?
I always thought they just became bloodthirsty.
Only wanting to see death. —
His gaze briefly swept over the unconscious bodies.
— When I get back, I'll tell Thornec everything.
Then we'll come back and get the rest. —
He adjusted the masked man on his back slightly, making the weight more manageable.
— There's no way I can carry five people. —
Then he started moving.
Two days they walked.
Day.Night.Day.
The path stretched endlessly through snow, frozen plains, and cold silence. Noen's steps remained steady, calm, almost stoic. The masked man on his back, on the other hand, was anything but calm.
Again and again he tried to squirm free. Shrugged his shoulders. Kicked with his feet. Pulled at Noen's clothing.
He tried to escape.
But he never succeeded.
When the silhouette of the Black Synod headquarters finally appeared before them again, a pale light already lay over the snow. The wind whistled more quietly up here, almost reverently, as if it too knew where they were.
Arrived.
But—
Thornec was still outside.
Not a step forward .Not a step back.
He was sitting on the snowy ground. With a book in his hand that he had had someone bring him. Noen stopped abruptly, completely exhausted.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, honestly confused.
Thornec didn't even lift his eyes from the book.
"Orders are orders."
Noen stared at him.
"But those weren't—"
He broke off, let out a heavy breath.
"Puhh… whatever."
He adjusted the masked man on his back.
"Can you please take this guy here and tie him up?"
"Sure!" said Thornec. But—
He didn't move an inch.
Noen narrowed his eyes.
"Dude."
Without further discussion, he grabbed the masked man and hoisted him straight onto Thornec's back. The man let out an indignant sound but couldn't resist.
Then Noen grabbed Thornec's hand.
He stated his identification number — the one he had received a few days ago.
And pulled.
Dragged Thornec with him. Through the entrance. Back inside the headquarters.