Frondier, who had not moved an inch since earlier, looked at him with a relaxed face.
“F-Frondier! Are, are you threatening me? With something …!”
Giotto tried to bluff, but he had no idea what ‘something ’ even was.
He was a professor at Atlas, so he was prepared for combat situations and defense.
Dozens of defensive spells instantly came to his mind, ones that could handle being stabbed by thorns from all directions or being trapped in a cage.
But that was only if the thorns and the cage were something he knew.
What if these black thorns and walls were something his magic couldn't affect at all?
Giotto had clearly defied Frondier by doing this, and Frondier would not forgive him.
And above all, Giotto couldn't read Frondier's eyes, no matter how hard he tried, to figure out what Frondier was thinking of doing to him.
“You asked if I was threatening you. You are absolutely correct. As expected, the teachers at Atlas are excellent at grasping the situation.”
As he spoke, Frondier sat down. There was no chair behind him, but as he tried to sit down, the black things rushed to make a chair.
How much calculation would be needed to create something with magic? Frondier spoke to Giotto, who couldn't even begin to imagine it.
“Professor Giotto, do you prefer to die socially or just die? I’m willing to do both.”
“Y-You, you, you, you crazy bastard….”
“As I said before, I want information. But that’s not something to ‘trade’ with you. I have a more efficient way.”
In an instant, the tip of the thorn reached right in front of Giotto's eyes. It was a speed he couldn't react to at all.
“As you said yourself, this is not a deal, it’s a threat.”
Frondier tilted his head. It was as if Giotto's fear, trembling, and wide eyes didn't reach Frondier at all.
“You must tell me everything you know. Don’t think that you can hide and spit it out appropriately. If you have the shallow thought that you only have to answer the questions I ask, get rid of it right now. I won't ask anything. But you'll have to talk a lot. After I’ve heard all the information, I’ll decide what to do with you then.”
“If I don’t like the information you give me, be prepared for the consequences.”
“How, how am I supposed to know what you like or not…!”
“Ugh! Cough, cough, cough…!”
Giotto was hit by something in the stomach and collapsed.
What was it? He couldn't see. Did these black things attack? No. These things didn't move. Something very fast, or something invisible.
A cold voice settled down.
“I’m sure you know what I mean. I’m already being patient enough.”
Giotto's body was lifted up. He didn't get up. Black waves approached and forced him to his feet.
“I told you to tell me everything. Everything you know, without hiding a single thing, and if there’s anything you haven’t said, search your brain diligently, find it, pick up every speck of dust, and spit it all out. That’s how you beg me for your life.”
Giotto couldn't breathe properly. His body, caught in the black things, felt stuffy. This pitch-black space choked his neck, and Frondier’s cool gaze pressed down on his lungs.
Giotto's mouth trembled. So his teeth clashed. Clatter, clatter, in the meantime, Giotto asked.
“Who, who the hell, are you…!”
He couldn't stand it without asking.
A stranger from afar. His skills in both magic and combat, the way he taught the students, this situation he created by revealing Giotto's secret, these black dust-like things, his transformed eyes and voice.
Everything about him said that Frondier was some other being.
Frondier lowered his gaze slightly at that.
From the time he was in the Terst Empire until now, he had received so many such suspicions. Each time, Frondier thought of an appropriate answer.
So Frondier answered.
“I don’t know either.”