I Reincarnated as a Prince Who Revolutionized the Kingdom

February 12, 1696.

The prisoners sat bound in the center of the Elysean military encampment, their hands and feet shackled together. Their bodies bore wounds from the previous battle, but their expressions remained defiant. The jungle surrounding them was quiet, save for the distant rustling of leaves and the occasional murmur from the Elysean soldiers preparing for the next phase of the campaign.

General Armand Roux stood before them, his face impassive. He had seen men like these before—warriors who refused to break, who clung to their beliefs no matter the suffering inflicted upon them. But Roux was not a man who tolerated wasted time. He needed answers.

Beside him stood Chief Ibara, leader of one of the allied tribes that had sworn loyalty to Elysea. His people had suffered at the hands of these warbands as well, and he had no love for them. The captured warriors glared at him, their eyes filled with hatred.

"They will not speak to you," Ibara said in a low tone. "They see you as invaders, as demons in their lands."

Roux exhaled, glancing at Captain Étienne Giraud. "Then we'll have to make them speak."

Giraud nodded and motioned for the soldiers to begin.

The first prisoner was dragged forward—a young warrior with dark eyes that burned with rage. Two Elysean soldiers forced him to his knees, holding him in place.

Ibara stepped forward, speaking in his native tongue. "Who is leading you? Why are your people gathering to fight against us?"

The prisoner spat at his feet.

One of the soldiers responded by striking him across the face with the butt of his rifle, sending him sprawling onto the dirt. The prisoner coughed, a trickle of blood running from his mouth, but he didn't utter a word.

Roux crossed his arms. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way."

The prisoner only smirked.

Roux sighed. "Very well." He nodded to the soldiers.

One of them retrieved a heated iron rod from a nearby fire pit. The metal glowed red-hot, the heat distorting the air around it. The prisoner's smirk faltered slightly.

The soldier grabbed the warrior's arm and pressed the searing metal against his skin. A loud, agonized scream tore through the camp as the smell of burning flesh filled the air.

The other prisoners flinched, some looking away, but none spoke.

Roux stepped closer, crouching so that he was eye level with the writhing man. "You have courage, I'll give you that. But courage means nothing when your flesh is being melted away."

The prisoner panted heavily, his body trembling from the pain, but he remained silent.

Roux straightened. "Next."

Another warrior was dragged forward. This one was older, perhaps in his forties, his body scarred from many battles.

"We know there's a leader uniting your tribes," Roux said. "Give me a name."

The warrior remained silent.

Ibara studied him. "This one has seen many wars. He is not like the young one. He knows what suffering is."

Roux signaled for another method. Two soldiers approached, carrying a bucket of water and a cloth.

The prisoner's eyes darkened as he realized what was coming.

Giraud knelt beside him. "You will tell us what we want to know. Or you will drown over and over again until your body begs for the end."

The cloth was wrapped around the warrior's face, and water was poured over it. The prisoner thrashed violently as the water seeped into his nose and mouth, his lungs burning for air.

After thirty seconds, the soldiers stopped. The man coughed violently, gasping for breath.

"Again," Roux ordered.

More water. More thrashing. More coughing.

By the fourth time, the man's body sagged, his breathing shallow. His lips trembled.

Ibara leaned down and spoke in his language. "Tell them what they want to know. Your gods will not save you."

The prisoner coughed again, then, finally, spoke. His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.

Ibara turned to Roux. "He says the one leading them is called N'kosi. He is no ordinary chief. They say he is chosen by the gods, that he cannot be killed."

Roux's expression remained cold. "Where is he?"

Ibara repeated the question in the native tongue.

The warrior hesitated, his body shaking.

Giraud pulled his revolver and pressed the barrel to the prisoner's forehead. "Where?"

The prisoner swallowed hard, then muttered a single word.

Ibara turned to Roux. "A fortress. Deep in the jungle, beyond the great river. He says that is where N'kosi gathers his armies."

Roux nodded, then looked at the prisoner. "You could have saved yourself much suffering."

The warrior spat blood onto the ground, glaring at Roux with defiance still in his eyes.

Roux sighed. "Kill him."

Giraud pulled the trigger.

The prisoner slumped to the ground, lifeless.

The other prisoners tensed, some glancing at each other. Fear had begun to creep into their hardened expressions.

Roux stepped forward, his voice calm. "Tell me more about this fortress, and I might spare the rest of you."

A few moments of silence passed. Then, another prisoner spoke.

Ibara translated. "They say it is hidden between the twin mountains. A place sacred to their ancestors. The warriors who fight for N'kosi believe they are fighting for something greater than their tribes."

Roux absorbed the information, nodding. "So, this isn't just about us. This is about something much bigger."

Ibara crossed his arms. "N'kosi is not just a warlord. He is a prophet to them. That is why they do not fear death."

Roux turned to Giraud. "Get the map."

A soldier brought forward a large map of the region, spreading it on a nearby crate. Ibara pointed to a rough location beyond the river, where the twin mountains were marked.

"There," he said. "That is where he waits."

Roux studied the map carefully. The terrain would be difficult. Thick jungle, high mountains, and unknown numbers of warriors waiting for them.

He exhaled. "Then that is where we go next."

He turned to his men. "Double the guards on the prisoners. Have the rest of them marched back to our camp. We'll use them if we need more information."

As the soldiers carried out his orders, Roux looked toward the jungle once more.

He had his answer.

Now, he had his next target.