Anyone can make threats.
Rey could make them too, but the earless old man would likely dismiss them with a scornful laugh.
Pain is the best torture, but faced with this disabled old man, Rey felt that pain wasn't quite effective enough.
Even though his muscles twitched from the agony, the old man only let out muffled grunts. He gave the distinct impression that he would speak only if he wanted to, and no one could force him. After the initial wave of pain, the expression on his face strangely relaxed.
Thinking he hadn't used enough force, Rey increased the pressure. The earless old man reacted slightly, but then his relaxed expression returned even faster.
By now, the look on the old man's face suggested he was nostalgic for this familiar pain.
"It's been a long, long time since I felt pain like this. I actually missed it." His raspy, broken voice carried a hint of excitement, the smugness in his tone unmistakable.
With his vicious eyes and almost comfortable expression, this old man of indeterminate age was clearly a masochist who enjoyed being tortured.
Rey felt helpless. This disabled man must have endured far worse torture in his youth; his severed ears were likely just one part of it.
Come to think of it, Rey had seen this trio of disabled men three times now. They were similar in age, had identical disabilities...
"Could it be... they are tools specially trained by the Church?" A thought struck Rey, startling him as he seemingly connected a crucial point.
People treated as tools are pitiful, but they are also hateful.
When such people seek revenge, there is absolutely no humanity left in them. Rey hardened his heart, killing intent surfacing in his eyes.
However, seeing the change in Rey's eyes, the earless old man laughed loudly. "Deciding to kill me only now? Too late! Tarpos, if you don't act soon, I'll report you for negligence!"
Rey frowned, cursing inwardly. Was there another enemy he hadn't detected?
Just as the earless old man shouted, the ground seemed to shake.
Rey felt the tremors coming from the flat terrain to his right, growing stronger and stronger, as if a behemoth were charging wildly toward him.
But when Rey turned to look, he saw nothing. He only felt the vibrations intensifying, the behemoth drawing closer.
It was just like when the earless old man dodged Sectumsempra—he could sense it but couldn't see it.
"ROAR..."
A furious beast's roar suddenly erupted from thin air.
Rey was startled. He knew this sound all too well. When he first met Godric Gryffindor, he had heard this same furious roar.
The familiar stench of wet dog, the overwhelming sense of savage power. This invisible beast charging at him had to be a Fallen Werewolf.
---
The impact was coming too fast, and the target was invisible. Rey had nowhere to dodge. In a moment of desperation, he waved his wand and fired a Killing Curse directly at the source of the roar.
"Avada Kedavra!"
Green lightning shot out, first hitting an invisible barrier, then grazing past a werewolf nearly two meters tall as the invisibility broke.
It was a near miss, but there was no time for a second shot. The werewolf was already upon him.
A thick iron chain hung around the werewolf's neck, suggesting it was controlled by someone. It charged with its body, not swiping with its claws.
The impact was imminent. Rey could only make a subconscious defensive move: curling his body and turning sideways to minimize the force of the collision.
But even minimized, the impact of such a charge wasn't something a wizard without protective spells could withstand.
BANG!
A loud crash.
Rey didn't even slow the werewolf down. He was launched into the air in a parabolic arc. However, just before he flew, the black cloth that had appeared earlier flashed into existence again, silently interposing itself between the werewolf and Rey.
Even if the black cloth didn't completely block the contact, it must have significantly reduced the impact force.
Rey slammed into the ground. The collision had rung his bell, feeling like someone had clubbed him over the head with a baseball bat. He didn't even have time to groan before he was completely knocked out.
Once unconscious, a person is at the mercy of others.
Rey had passed out in mid-air. He hit the ground like a dead dog, showing no reaction to the pain.
The berserk werewolf, chain rattling, wanted to continue its charge, likely intending to finish Rey off. The previous impact hadn't felt solid enough for its liking.
"Sit."
A cold, clear command rang out from the side. Another invisibility barrier dissolved, and a scruffy old man in ragged grey clothes walked out, carrying a large cloth sack slung across his body.
Hearing the voice, the werewolf froze in terror. Its charging momentum was forcibly halted as it sat down obediently, like a well-trained lapdog.
"Tarpos..."
The earless old man's raspy voice spoke the name. This was the Tarpos he had called for. He picked up his wand and began bandaging his wound.
As for Rey, he didn't even spare him a glance. Whether the kid lived or died was no longer his concern; it was out of his hands.
"You knew I was here?"
The old man in ragged grey clothes glanced at the injured earless man and asked.
As he spoke, he walked up to the obedient werewolf, pulled a bloody chunk of meat from his sack, and tossed it toward the beast's mouth. The werewolf opened its massive jaws, caught the meat whole, chewed roughly twice, and swallowed it down.
Then it looked greedily at the grey-robed elder, clearly wanting another piece.
"Hmph. That dog stench of yours can be smelled from a mile away," the earless old man sneered, not bothering to say thanks and showing open disgust.
The grey-robed elder didn't react much. He acted as if he hadn't heard the sneer.
"That subordinate of yours with the missing leg... he might still be savable."
After feeding his pet, the elder glanced at the earless old man's only remaining, critically injured subordinate.
Hearing this, the earless old man narrowed his eyes dangerously. But a moment later, he looked at his legless subordinate and said indifferently, "If you want to feed my man to your pet, just say so. No need to beat around the bush."
"You don't object?" the grey-robed elder asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Would objecting help? Even if I were dying, you'd feed me to the dog just the same," the earless old man retorted, his voice carrying an accusatory tone.
"It's the Church's rule. If he returns to the Church, his death will only be more miserable." The grey-robed elder shook his head, his face full of mercy, as if feeding the man to his werewolf was a great kindness.
"Hmph. Rules. If you hadn't betrayed me back then, I'd be the one quoting rules to you now."
The earless old man was indignant, his chest heaving as if truly enraged.
Regardless of his emotions, the grey-robed elder simply said flatly, "We're all just people trying to survive in Hell. Didn't you also plan to stab me in the back?"
That one sentence seemed to speak the earless old man's mind, causing his anger to stall.
---
A moment later, the earless old man left without another word.
Seeing him go, the grey-robed elder patted the werewolf's back and pointed at the legless man lying on the ground in the distance.
The werewolf's eyes widened, drool dripping in strings from its massive jaws. With a howl, it pushed off its hind legs and flew toward the man like an arrow.
First, it smashed the man's head like a watermelon with a massive paw. Then, grabbing the corpse, it clamped its jaws onto the neck and pulled violently.
Riiip...
A rain of blood showered the surroundings.
The werewolf was bloodthirsty. As blood splattered on the ground, it didn't waste a drop, licking it up greedily like a pig at a trough. In its gluttony, there was no trace of a wolf's ferocity, only base hunger.
Crack!
The grey-robed elder drew his wand and fired a magic bolt at the werewolf's head.
The impact snapped the werewolf's head to the side, drawing blood instantly.
This minor injury wasn't fatal; instead, it ignited the beast's savagery. The werewolf glared at the elder, baring its long fangs.
However, no matter how angry it was, it dared not attack the elder. It could only lower its head and body in a threatening posture, signaling it was ready to pounce at any moment.
The elder glanced at the werewolf indifferently, snorted cold, and then pointed at the unconscious Rey in the distance.
With a roar of suppressed rage, the werewolf instantly charged at Rey.
---