Chapter 2036 - 547: The Professor's Complex Composition_2

In this godforsaken borderland, there's only the howl of beasts and the grinding teeth of the Undead for company. Drinking some wine to bolster courage isn't a bad idea.

Most importantly, his craving was stirred up.

"...But considering everyone has worked hard, the brothers swapping guard can drink before going back to sleep. Those on night duty aren't allowed a single drop, understood?"

"Captain, you're wise!"

Looking at the stern-faced captain, the crowd cheered and slung their arms around each other, sitting at the table and beginning to dole out the wine.

Half a bottle was soon poured out, and a sharp-eyed young man walked over to the captain's side, grinning as he stuffed it into the captain's hand.

"Captain, I confiscated half a bottle from these drunks, please check it!"

"You rascal."

Clark teased with a laugh, kicking the guy's thigh but honestly taking the bottle he handed over.

Just as he was about to challenge his "own rules," his gaze suddenly fell on the corner, on the young man who had been curling up all along.

The young man who escaped from the Ratman Nest was staring intently at the bottle in his hand, his Adam's apple rolling like a desert traveler who've seen an Oasis.

Clark's heart was stirred, and he took the bottle over, sitting down next to him on the bench, deliberately drinking a mouthful in front of him.

Then, he shook the bottle in front of Helager.

"Want a drink?"

Helager seemed to wake up as if from a dream, nodding frantically, his thin fingers clinging tightly to his trousers, his face full of longing.

Clark took down a tin cup from his waist and poured him a small amount. Helager eagerly grabbed the cup, gulping it down.

The spicy liquid burned down his throat, making him cough a few times, but a long-lost sense of indulgence appeared on his filthy face.

"Saint Sis above... Is this distilled from grain?"

Helager squinted, muttering, "I've only had it once, it was when I was a kid, I stole a little from my dad's cup when he wasn't looking..."

This cup seemed to unlock the floodgate of his memory, letting him temporarily forget the present fear, returning to a past that was poor but relatively stable.

Later, life got worse day by day, until last Winter Moon's great fire burnt everything to ashes, blowing him away to this distant place.

Helager eagerly watched Clark with the bottle of wine, humbly extending his cup.

"Sir... can I have another?"

Clark shook the bottle, the liquid inside sloshing. He didn't immediately pour the wine but stared into Helager's eyes.

"There's wine only when there's a story. If you want another sip, tell me what exactly you encountered in that cave."

Helager's hand jolted violently, his face twisted in extreme anguish.

It's a fear planted deep in his marrow; even after escaping, recalling those scenes made him tremble all over.

He struggled internally, but under the temptation of alcohol, he finally spoke with difficulty.

"Those aren't pleasant memories... Those rats whipped us, locked us in cages that only exposed our heads, soaked us, roasted our soles, pierced our nails with rusty needles... And they would let rats bite us. Not regular field rats, but Slave Rats the size of wolves with blood-red eyes."

The laughter in the outpost gradually faded away, the soldiers pricked up their ears, faces bearing a look of fascination as they looked over.

Clark frowned.

"They only tortured you?"

Helager stiffly nodded.

"Yes, only torture."

"What's the point of doing that?"

"I don't know... I truly don't know..."

Helager clutched his head, his body starting to convulse violently, as though petrified with fear, his very Soul trembling.

"But a young lad locked up with me speculated that... they seemed to be collecting something? He said those rats didn't want to kill us, they needed some kind of Energy released in extreme fear and despair. But then he died, I really don't know anything after that."

Watching the near-collapsing Helager, Clark fell into silence for a moment, pouring him half a cup of wine, patting his back to soothe his tense mood.

"Drink, you'll feel better after drinking... Besides, tell me, what features did those taken people have?"

He didn't want to tear open his scars, but these clues might help them know whether those Royal Explorers taken were still alive.

Helager gulped down the cup, his gaze gradually growing vacant, yet under the influence of alcohol, a trace of unnatural clarity surfaced.

"All just like fellas like me..."

"Like you?"

"Yes, the crazed ones were taken away, those not crazed enough were sent back to continue..."

Suddenly, Helager laughed creepily, but the laugh was more painful to hear than tears, like the Undead crawling from the grave.

"Those unqualified got brought back, and then it's another round of beatings. The worst were those pretending to be mad on return... the Ratmen would lock them in a cage with wolves."

A young soldier swallowed hard.

"Saint Sis above..."

A veteran nearby took a mouthful of wine, said silently.

"This sounds like a slaughterhouse."

Treating humans like livestock for slaughter.

He simply couldn't believe such things happening on the land blessed by Holy Light.