My Bugged System Made Me Too OP!

Chapter 165: A hologram

The desperate thudding of Yaroth’s forehead against the frost-covered stone was a pathetic display of futility.

He had already tried exploding his own mana core, attempting to detonate his internal reserves in a violent surge that would end his life and take his captors with him.

But even that final act of defiance had completely failed. Kael’s Dragon’s command was an absolute, inescapable shackles that specifically forbade him from doing anything that would kill him.

His own body had betrayed him, physically locking up the moment his instinct tried to trigger the core’s self-destruction, forcing him to remain alive against his will.

His current battered state wasn’t just the result of Noah’s initial outburst of mana pressure, either.

After he had finished confessing every dark secret of the infiltration plot, Noah had made sure to torture him even more.

The Arch Magus had methodically channeled agonizing spikes of lightning directly into the demon’s fractured knees and open wounds, extracting a harsh price for the hundreds of innocent children who had been melted into bones in this very room.

Noah hissed, his golden eyes flaring with a terrifying, merciless light behind the eye slits of his matte-black cat mask as he said: "Death will be mercy... which is a lot more than scum like you will ever deserve!"

Yaroth shivered violently, his completely white, bloodshot eyes trembling with a profound, deep-seated terror that went far beyond the fear of physical pain.

In truth, he didn’t even fear death. To a fanatical supervisor of the demon kingdom, dying for the cause was an honorable conclusion.

What he indeed feared—what truly terrified his soul to the absolute core—was the agonizing prospect of being kept by the humans as a living specimen.

The thought of being locked in the deepest dungeons of the Magus Order, locked away like a lab animal and systematically forced to spit out more and more information about his kind, was an unbearable nightmare.

To him, becoming the ultimate traitor to his empire and being used to dismantle his own world’s grand plans would be the worst kind of punishment imaginable.

Noah turned away from the pathetic, broken figure, his traveling cloak swirling around his boots as he looked back to his companion, saying: "Let’s get out of here."

Kael nodded his massive, reptilian head, his golden eyes flashing with cold authority.

The ancient dragon turned back to Yaroth, issuing a final, heavy mandate that resonated within the supervisor’s shattered mind, saying: "You heard him."

Yaroth bit his lips so hard that dark, demonic blood welled up and dripped down his chin, a bitter wave of humiliation washing over his consciousness.

The realization was a devastating blow to his pride: he, a high-ranking three-horned supervisor of the demon kingdom, was being used as a mere puppet by a mere human boy.

He looked at the towering, iridescent form of the dragon, thinking to himself with absolute bitterness and despair: ’This dragon of his... so annoying...’

The fact that a sovereign, ancient creature of such immense draconic majesty was completely subservient to a human was a frustrating, incomprehensible reality that Yaroth could do nothing but suffer through as his body rigidly followed his instructions.

Kael was, after all, the only reason he was forced to follow all these orders.

The supreme authority of the Dragon’s Order was a primordial, conceptual shackle that overrode his very biological and spiritual autonomy.

No matter how powerful Mr. White was, or how much the masked human arch magus tortured him to speak, Yaroth would have still remained completely silent without spilling even a drop of secrets.

His demonic pride and fanatical loyalty to the Demon Lord would have allowed him to endure any level of physical flaying or soul-searing pain.

Yet, against the decree of the ancient dragon, his loyalty meant nothing.

He could only curse inwardly, screaming obscenities in the dark corners of his mind, completely unable to do anything to resist Kael’s Dragon command as his hand moved against his own will.

Under the absolute compulsion, Yaroth’s rigid, trembling hand rose up. He tapped his wrist, and with a soft chime, a transparent triangle popped out, hovering mid-air with a faint, otherworldly glow.

His mouth opened rigidly as he said, his voice a flat, forced drone: "This is what... controls the pocket dimension, acting like a door. To leave... I’ll just send the command through it."

Noah’s eyes widened behind the absolute concealment of his cat mask, a sudden wave of intrigue washing over him.

He thought to himself, his analytical mind instantly focusing on the hovering light,’ so this is how they control... this pocket dimension...’

The sheer sophistication of the device was staggering.

The demons had such advanced technology, and even he had to admit that. It was a level that surpassed anything the Grand Magus Order or the adventurer guild had ever produced.

Looking at the seamless, glowing device, he couldn’t help but wonder how long they had been existing for, in order to advance this much in technology.

For a civilization to develop past traditional spellcraft and create tools that merged mana with independent mechanical constructs, their history must have spanned tens of thousands of years, hidden away in the dark corners of the world.

He stepped closer, the deep blue ice sheet cracking faintly beneath his boots as he looked at the weird triangle again.

"What... is this called?" Noah asked, his voice dropping into a demanding whisper.

Yaroth bit his lips, the sharp edges of his fangs drawing fresh blood as he desperately willed his mouth to stay shut.

He was not willing to answer. He refused to give this human thief any insight into the sacred tools of his homeland.

A simple glare from Kael changed that though. The ancient dragon merely narrowed his violet eyes, releasing a sharp, oppressive spike of sovereign mana into the mental link that made Yaroth’s brain feel like it was being compressed by a mountain.

The resistance shattered instantly. Yaroth’s head jerked forward, and he rasped out the forced truth: "It’s called... a hologram."