It didn't feel like a captivity, Isabella thought to herself, if she didn't look down at the shackles on her wrists and feet. Pen Fun Pavilion wWw. ｂiquge。 ｉｎfo

Ever since she told them that the cage made of the Divine Punishment Stone didn't work for her, she was relocated to a normal bedroom guarded by the guards. After moving to the west of the Grey Keep, her "cell" did not change much, neither damp and cold, nor did she see rancid dirty water running rampantly. In addition to a bed and a bench, there is a small cubicle that serves as a toilet. The windows were bar-bars, but they didn't prevent the warm sunlight from shining in, and in general they were much better than the secret prisons of the privy organs.

Isabella had expected to be treated as a "normal" prisoner of war, especially since the witches' good looks were already an extra covet, but nothing happened—there were always guards outside the door, but no one came into the room in the middle of the night, and there were no humiliations or beatings, and they hardly said a word except that they were delivered on time every day.

The Commonwealth witch who claimed to be from more than four hundred years ago would have come to see her often, accompanied by a blonde witch shrouded in the shadow of her hood. Whatever they asked, Isabella answered truthfully, and even asked them for pen and paper, and when she had nothing to do, she copied some of the secret histories or demonic documents she had seen in the temple library.

There was no torture she had expected, and it was clear that the blonde witch was eager to trouble her, but after each detailed answer to the question, the other party left with a cold face, which made her quite puzzled.

Isabella, of course, would not have thought that the witches were so naïve as to believe whatever they said, and judging by their reactions during the interrogation, at least one of them could identify a lie. Could it be that the blonde witch waited for herself to lie before she did it? and that's what puzzled her - there were so many excuses to punish her, or why bother?

But as the days passed, her heart sank day by day.

It's been almost two months, so why hasn't Roland Wimbledon been around?

The answer could only be two, either the king has not yet awakened, or the other party has no intention of coming to see her at all. Either way, it's not good news for Isabella. Perhaps, when she has confessed everything she knows, what awaits her is the announcement of the sentence and the execution.

Although she was willing to give everything to fight the devil and had no complaints about the outcome, she still felt exhausted from waiting for death to approach.

Isabella sighed, dragged her shackles to the edge of the bed, lifted her quill pen, and awkwardly spread a new blank sheet of paper on her lap - the sooner she had finished what she remembered, she should have been relieved sooner.

Just then, footsteps rang out outside the house.

The voices were a little jumbled, apparently more than two.

Isabella's heart trembled slightly.

The door was pushed open, and she put down her pen and turned her head, only to find that there was a gray-haired man in addition to the usual two witches. If the information is correct, he should be the fourth prince of the Wimbledon family, and now the king of the Grey Keep.

Roland Wimbledon woke up?

Or did you come here to pronounce a verdict on her?

Isabella stood up and bowed slightly.

"I thought you weren't going to see me. She feigned a calm demeanor and said.

"You're the Isabella who made the Punishment Stone I wore useless...... It's not that I deliberately put it off until now, just because I had a long dream and woke up not long ago. She was surprised by the calm tone of the other party, and the content surprised her even more, "In my dream, I fought the Pure One and won the victory, but it was not as she said, the winner won everything - both knowledge and skill. ”

"It can't be!" Isabella blurted out.

"Why?" Roland asked with interest, "can't it be that a man can't awaken as a witch, so he can't inherit everything from her?"

"It has nothing to do with men and women," she shook her head, "The trophies that the victors of the Soul Battlefield can get are memories and lifespan, which are things that all people have, and the unique abilities of witches cannot be absorbed, and magic power cannot be increased out of thin air, otherwise Jieluo would have devoured me a long time ago." In other words, it must be a creature that has both of these in order to be included in the soul battlefield. ”

"What do you mean...... And creatures she can't invade?"

"Of course, animals without intelligence cannot enter the battlefield of the soul," Isabella explained, "and even if they win, they cannot understand human memory." ”

"That could also be the reason for the racial difference. ”

"As far as I know, among the thousands of souls she devours, there are also devils and hybrid beasts. She sighed, "It's just that these things happened before I was born, and I talked to her about it." ”

The three people on the other side couldn't help but look at each other, "The devil and ...... Evil beast?"

"Why didn't you say it before?" asked the blonde witch.

"Because this news will only deepen your worries, and will not help solve the problem," Isabella said slowly, "Even Gero, who felt that the xenomorph memories were too crazy and would be a great burden on herself, she had not tried anything like it since. ”

"That's kind of interesting," the king not only didn't show a look of fear, but instead curled the corners of his mouth, "By the way, did Jieluo mention to you what are the endings of the losers in the soul battlefield?"

"Completely gone, as if it never existed. ”

"Isn't there a difference?" he raised an eyebrow, "for example, those who voluntarily surrender and those who resist to the death will have the same result?"

"Either way, they'll disappear, but ......," Isabel replied thoughtfully, "Gerlo seems to have said that there are two kinds of memories she absorbs. ”

"Which two?" Roland seemed to be particularly interested in the question.

"One is chaotic and remnant-conscious, affecting Jero, and the other is complete and left for her to look through," she paused, "the former is more difficult to recall and easier to forget...... At that time, she just mentioned it casually, and I didn't ask much, but it was the first time I had seen a situation like yours, which did not accept a trace of memory at all. ”

This time there was a long silence, and the other party closed his eyes and remained silent for a long time, as if he was thinking about an extremely complex issue, and his brows furrowed unabashedly. It was about a quarter of an hour before he let out, "I see. ”

What the hell did he figure out?

Isabella was curious, but she didn't ask.

She knew who she was.

"Now, it's time to talk about you," Roland continued.