Bronoda's eyes were wide open. His heart thundered hard in his chest.
Just a few meters away from him were two of his fellow adjudicators.
Only, they were far more than that. Both men had become a breath of fresh air in the stillness that was the Murkroot Hollow.
He, Danne, and Kesim had been close ever since he was transferred to the Murkroot Hollow.
His days here were either boring or far too dangerous, and his drunken nights along with his friends were what kept his mind in one piece in this accursed city.
Only now, they both laid on the ground in front of him, utterly battered. Clothes torn to shreds, figures drenched in crimson blood.
Their faces were indistinguishable, countless blows had disfigured them. Bronoda could see their limbs bent in unnatural angles, in ways that shouldn't be.
'Their bones are broken,' he realized. The only sign of life was the labored rising and falling of their chests and the fact that their bodies were still intact, instead of the sleek blackness of the creature that descended whenever there was death.
'They were tortured.' As the realization thundered in his head, somehow, every shred of pity he felt for his mates vanished, replaced only by fear.
He had heard the rumors about the Arbiter's basement. But only now did he truly grasp the gravity of the danger he was in.
The emergence of Danne and Kesim brought an unreal silence to the room. Bronoda didn't dare lift his gaze.
He could feel the cold stare of the Arbiter on him as he struggled to come up with his next course of action.
"Ren," the Arbiter's amused voice broke the silence.
"Yes, Arbiter," the voice came from a guard directly behind Bronoda.
"What is the consequence for lying to a superior?"
Bronoda's heart began beating faster at the Arbiter's words. He knew the answer more than anyone.
"Death, Arbiter," the guard answered immediately, and Bronoda had no idea when the trembling started.
The Blood Guardians operated like a military army. Their members were trained to respect the chain of command, to take the word of someone above more seriously than their own lives.
The Blood Knights protected humanity against the darkness creatures. The Blood Guardians protected humanity against themselves.
One could say the latter was a job even more delicate than the former. They dealt with humans, other living beings. The wrong death could spell the end of many. Any mistake would be fatal.
For this, humans with far fewer flaws were needed. Humans who could follow orders to the tee. Ones who wouldn't disobey a direct command.
The Arbiter could decide to kill him now, and there'd be no consequences.
Bronoda slammed his head on the ground, body trembling. He ignored the pain, the crimson blood trickling down his skull, and did the only thing he could in this situation.
"A-Arbiter, p-please forgive me for my insolence. I have no excuse." He accepted his fault.
He had heard from many that the Arbiter was a man of logic. He valued the truth more than wading through an endless stream of excuses.
The Arbiter laughed. "It seems word of my character has spread amongst you all," he said with a smile, but the coldness in his eyes hadn't changed.
"It's a good thing I feel merciful today. Have your seat, Bronoda."
Bronoda picked himself up from the ground and sat at a seat opposite the Arbiter.
His body was drenched in sweat, and he couldn't stop shaking no matter how much he tried.
No one had laid a single hand on him since he arrived in this basement, but he looked as though he had gone through hell and back.
His gaze didn't dare meet the Arbiter's, it was fixed downward at the table.
"Now, let's start all over again. I hope for the truth this time, Bronoda. For your sake. Tell me how you lost your hand."
After a second, Bronoda began to narrate the events of the day. He talked about everything that occurred in the forest, the bounty, their plan, their encounter with the Gor'Mekhai, and how they had ripped his hand from his body.
Even after everything, Bronoda's trembling refused to stop. From what he had just narrated, in simple terms, they hadn't done anything wrong.
The bounty had been placed there for them to attempt to find the Gor'Mekhai, and what they had done today was just that, an attempt.
Still, Bronoda knew there was more to the story. Something he was keeping to himself. And he truly hoped the Arbiter would leave it as it was.
But the Arbiter's next words told him just how naive he was.
"A Bloom will birth a calamity, but a Synergy-stage threat can still be managed. Don't underestimate how far I am willing to go."
Bronoda shivered. The Arbiter had just unleashed his aura, the aura of a Bloom. It pressed down on him like a vice, and Bronoda glanced at his mates, taking in their battered and wretched figures. He would end up like that too if he didn't talk.
The crimson, cold eyes of a 14-year-old boy refused to leave his thoughts. If he spilled, he somehow had no doubt that the boy would make him pay.
However, if he didn't, he couldn't fathom a way he would leave this basement alive.
The silence stretched, and after a moment, Bronoda chose the present over the uncertain future.
"T-The Ninth Vein, Your Eminence."
The Arbiter's eyes glinted. Since the conversation began, he finally showed shock on his face.
"The Ninth Vein and other members of Captain Rhett's squad had answered a call in the forest… because of the deaths."
The Arbiter listened silently as Bronoda added the missing piece he had intentionally left out.
After Bronoda was done, the Arbiter stared at him silently for a few seconds.
Bronoda shakily nodded in response.
"I might not have the ability to detect lies like the Sanguine, but my decades spent as an Adjudicator made me able to discern when I'm being lied to. You're walking on thin ice, Bronoda."