good nightmare

A high-pitched scream echoed in the dimly lit stone room.

"Aaagh!"

René's body ached like it was about to explode every time the whip, which split the air with its split branches, tore through the air.

Normally, the building was used as a prison. It was a place where arrested criminals were thrown in until their trial, and a place where imprisoned prisoners lived. But now a corner was requisitioned for René by the Knights of the royal brothers' faction.

Originally, there was no facility for torture, but the ghastly equipment was brought into a spacious room that could accommodate about six people and used as a makeshift torture chamber.

René was shackled and her hands were further restrained by chains from the ceiling.

The height of these chains was exquisitely adjusted, so that the suspended person was forced to stand on tiptoe to exhaust their strength while inflicting pain with their own body weight. Moreover, an unreasonable posture would leave them defenseless against attacks, increasing their pain.

Whenever René came to this room, there were always several torturers present. Each and every one of the torturers in charge wore full armor with a breastplate emblem, as if they were proud to wear that armor as a sign of their knighthood. It was as if torturing René was a noble duty as a knight.

When they looked at René, they either had a look of angry indignation or a face of mockery.

To avoid inadvertently killing her, the torture method was chosen to cause less damage and more pain, and she was always accompanied by a magician who could use healing magic.

The only reason they did not kill her was to publicly execute René in the near future. The torturers reminded René of this from time to time. This was to psychologically corner her.

The whip was continuously cracked into her rattled torso, and René screamed again.

Her throat felt like it was burning from screaming so much.

"I..., ah, ah, ah!"

"Don't think you're allowed to cry!"

The hysterical voice scratched René's eardrums.

She already knew that crying wouldn't make it stop. She knew that, but it still hurt and scared her, and the tears flowed of their own accord.

"Daughter of a corrupt king who sold out his country to the Federation! Why were you living on the border with the Federation!? What contact did you have with the Federation!? You must know! Speak!"

Those questions were repeated over and over again.

I lived on the border with the Federation because the Federation's culture was so strong that there was little prejudice against the "silver-haired, silver-eyed abominations" and there was not much to be said about René's body. Moreover, relations with the Federation (even if it was a top-down relationship) was much better, and the risk of the border suddenly bursting into flames was much smaller than in other border areas.

René was aware of the situation at a very young age, as her mother had mentioned it several times.

She had never known that she was the daughter of a king, even though she was called that.

She was not involved in the king's policy toward the Federation, nor in any behind-the-scenes negotiations. There was nothing, so there was no way that René could have known about it.

But that was not the answer the torturers were looking for, and no matter how many times she told them, they yelled at her to "tell the truth", and whipped her some more as punishment for lying.

René could no longer do anything but cry and scream.

“I don’t know… I don’t know!”

"Lies!!"

"Ugh...!"

A whip cracked across René's back.

If she said she didn't know, she would be treated as if she were lying.

René wanted to know if there was an answer they were looking for. Because she would have told them exactly what they wanted to know.

But maybe there was no answer to seek from the beginning. What if the goal of the torture was just to torment her and make false accusations.

Resting herself on her suspended arms, René hung limp.

Her shoulders ached from the impossible position, but there was nothing she could do about it.

"Uh... ugh..."

"Chi... your screams are getting quieter. Changing the torture method."

"Ha."

The torturer, who had left as told, came back with something from the room right next door.

It was a hot poker.

"There you go."

The poker is pressed against her skin.

The pain, like a thousand bees stinging her skin at the same time, caused René to jerk her body away.

“A-aaaaaah!!”

A strangled scream erupted from René's throat.

"Damn, the screams of a child are not attractive at all."

The torturer looked at her and commented selfishly

"Aaah... ah... it's h-hot, h-hot..."

Hearing René's words, which she repeated in a daze and rambling, the torturer grabbed her by the silver hair and caused her to face him.

"Hot? Is it hot? It's hot, okay! Let's cool you down!"

Behind the torturer, whose eyes glazed over maniacally, stood another one.

Holding an iron pot of boiling water.

"Hic..."

"... This is probably colder than the hot iron."

The contents of the pot.

*

"Wahhhhhhhhh!"

Iris (René) jumped up with a cry and found herself not in a stone torture chamber, but on a soft bed.

Through the delicately embroidered curtains, she could see the sky at daybreak, which was beginning to turn bluish-purple.

She was out of breath as though she had just climbed a mountain at full speed, her heart was beating like a broken record, and her body was drenched in sweat as though she had been drenched in a rainstorm.

"……Nightmare…"

Iris (René) muttered, confirming that it had been a nightmare.

As an Undead, René no longer needed to sleep or rest. However, Iris's body, which is her temporary lodging, is different. When it was tired, it needed sleep. And then she dreamed of hell.

The memory of the living hell, which was too lukewarm to even be called a nightmare.

The knights of the royal brothers' faction who captured René tortured her with the sole purpose of inflicting pain on her.

It was because, in retrospect, it was their righteousness to make René suffer. It was an attack on the reign of the previous king, whom they regarded as an absolute evil.

Above all, they were in a passionate frenzy, they had companions, and René was helpless, which made the aggression more severe. It was surely a human habit, unchanged since the time of the apes, to become more cruel the more one thought one had the upper hand.

Iris (René) looked around the still-dark room. The fireplace, which had been burning all night, dimly illuminated the room.

Canopied beds and soft carpets. Even the walls were decorated beautifully, and the furniture all had shining, graceful curves. This was a room where a single throw of a single mud ball could cost a fortune. It was the guest room of Earl Keely's castle, which was exclusive and separated from the other members of the party.

Lady Catherine and Iris (René) were to sleep in the two guest rooms in turns. If an assassin were to target Catherine, this would confuse the situation.

This was a warm place to sleep. Her first temporary post as an adventurer on the job.

She could rest easy. This was no cold stone prison, there were no horrific torture instruments, and there were no cruel torturers.

--Hahaha... I'm an idiot. Safe? I'm the most powerful Undead right now, remember?

Iris (René) let out a shaky giggle.

Now if René were to be captured by someone, he could make them regret having been born. Unless a non-standard enemy like Lawrence appeared.

Having the memories of her previous life back, she felt mentally strengthened by her life experiences.

But the René in her dreams was nothing more than a helpless girl.

"I'm... strong. Next time, I'll kill you."

Iris (René) said to herself.

It was as if her memory was barking at her, 'Don't forget your resentment'.

Don't forget the humiliation, the pain, the fear.

Remember the hate that robbed her of her kind and beautiful mother, of her peaceful life, of everything.

Nothing but revenge could heal her soul...!

René did not consider herself to be righteous or anything.

From now on, René would take more than was taken from her, and hurt more than she was hurt. The targets of her revenge shall be haunted and killed to the last generation, whether parents, siblings, or innocent children. Kill unreasonably. Kill savagely. If anyone held a grudge against René and plotted to avenge them, she would trample them down and ridicule them. If necessary, she would feed on the innocent.

Such actions cannot be righteous. However, she no longer cared about right and wrong. René would not stop until the black flame of resentment burning in her heart consumed everything.

"Kill... kill... kill!"

Then, slamming her fist into the bed, Iris (René) noticed a strange, damp feeling. From the lower half of her body to the sheets, she was soaking wet to a level that sweat could not explain.

Searching through Iris's memory, she could find no such embarrassing habit. If so, this must have been the result of the memories René brought with her. That nightmare is too much for a human being to handle.

"Mooo... the worst..."

Iris (René) sighed heavily between broken gasps of breath.