Who taught him to restore his country like this?

Considering that the Kingdom of Diam was indeed unable to spare any more troops at the moment, he suppressed his anger and said, "If you release me now, I can forgive and forget about what happened."

“If you honestly explain your intentions, I will naturally let you go,” Ron said calmly.

"What do you want me to explain about something I didn't do at all?" Vasily glared angrily.

Ron shrugged: "Since you won't cooperate, then make some contribution to atone for your sins."

Hearing this direct condemnation, Vasily was furious. He knew that appealing to the person who had wronged him would be useless, and he could only seek other ways to get out of this predicament.

From what Ron said, he could leave the dungeon if he made a contribution.

A true man can bend and stretch; he endured this humiliation.

He spoke, about to ask what contribution he needed to make.

At that moment, there was a knock on the iron door of the interrogation room.

"Come in."

Ron stood up.

Chapter 64 Lucky

From the moment Ron walked into the interrogation room, Vasily felt that Ron didn't seem to be there for an interrogation, but rather to be slacking off in a secluded corner during work hours.

He had initially thought Ron was deliberately trying to annoy him, but now it seemed that wasn't the case.

Vasily glanced uneasily toward the interrogation room door.

The iron gate opened.

A woman dressed in a light gray maid outfit walked in.

A maid?

Vasily frowned. He could tell that Ron was waiting for someone, but why was it a maid?

Why did this guy call the maid into the interrogation room?

wrong.

That's... a shackle of slavery?

Vasily noticed the slave shackles around the maid's neck; according to that guy, they should be called war slaves.

He had seen similar shackles of slavery the night before last, and was brutally slaughtered by having five large bowls of royal blood extracted from them.

Now, he feels a chill whenever he sees a slave.

Is this bastard's idea of ​​"contribution" just to bleed me dry?

The heavy iron door closed slowly behind the maid, making a dull thud.

She turned slightly, took small steps, walked through the dim light and shadow, and stood in front of Ron, her hair falling down to cover her lowered eyes.

It seems like they don't really like this place.

Ron looked at the somewhat pitiful-looking girl in front of him, chuckled, and asked, "How long have you been a war slave?"

Upon hearing this question, Beatrice frowned slightly and began to think seriously.

After being given a enslavement drug and transformed into a war slave, her own thoughts were sealed off, her body was controlled by enslavement shackles, and her concept of time consisted only of today and tomorrow.

If she tried to recall carefully, she only remembered that the time after becoming a war slave was very long, but she couldn't remember exactly how many days.

“Do you know that the lives of war slaves are very short?” Ron asked again.

This time, Beatrice nodded without hesitation.

She could sense her physical condition—she would die in three days at most.

So when Ron told her to leave, she didn't choose to leave.

She was grateful to Ron for helping her rediscover herself, and thankful to have met a master like Ron at the end of her life.

"So, do you want to live?" Ron continued to ask.

To survive?

Beatrice's eyelashes trembled, and she was stunned.

Dying while remaining true to herself was the best possible outcome for her; she never expected Ron to remove the shackles of enslavement from her.

No one can remove the shackles of enslavement.

Although he knew this was true, upon hearing that he could survive, he instinctively nodded slightly.

She wanted to live.

“Very good, you are blessed by Lady Luck, Beatrice,” Ron said with a smile.

Beatrice watched Ron quietly.

This was the second time Ron had called her name.

More than wondering why Lady Luck was on her side, she was curious about how Ron knew her name.

“The shackles of enslavement bestowed by the gods will only be born into royalty. Under normal circumstances, ordinary people will not be subject to such shackles.”

Ron slowly circled Beatrice, observing the shackles of slavery around her neck.

"Those who wanted to mass-produce war slaves dared not provoke the royal families of other countries, so they could only target ordinary people. Thus, they developed a enslavement potion, a potion that could transform the blood of ordinary people into the blood of royalty."

"When an ordinary person takes the enslavement potion, their bloodline will be concentrated and transformed into the bloodline of royalty within a short period of one month."

"However, there is a significant difference in rank between the bloodline of ordinary people and that of royalty. To make up for this difference in rank, one needs to sacrifice a large amount of life essence."

This is why war slaves generally had short lifespans.

Even so, there is no guarantee of a 100% success rate in the transformation. Some people have such mixed blood that their lives end before the transformation is complete.

To increase the chances of conversion, researchers studying enslavement drugs generally selected test subjects under the age of 14.

The younger the experimental subject, the higher the conversion probability and the longer the survival time.

As for Beatrice, who was 19 years old, she was probably a test subject in the initial experimental phase.

Ron reached out and lightly touched the cracks in her hair at the back of her neck with his fingertips.

Beatrice's body trembled slightly.

"After most of the war slaves took the enslavement drug, their spirits became hollow as their life essence burned away. They lost all memories of the past, lost the ability to understand, and lost themselves."

“But you’ve retained your memories and normal thinking abilities. Do you know why?” Ron asked.

His fingertips traced the hideous, dark lines of his hair down to the gray agate at his throat, which seemed to spring from his flesh and blood.

Beatrice tensed up.

"That's because you have unusual blood in your body," Ron said, his fingers leaving Beatrice's neck. "No one knows how long this world has existed, or how many kingdoms there have been, but one thing is certain."

"During the gaps in the wars between the divine kingdoms ten years ago, hundreds of years ago, or even earlier, the royal bloodlines of those destroyed kingdoms were more or less preserved."

"After hundreds of years of inheritance, perhaps the descendants of these people have forgotten that their ancestors were once royalty, but it is undeniable that they have royal blood in their veins."

It turned out to be the case.

Vasily, who was tied to the chair, looked enlightened.

Ancient royal families were also blessed by the gods. Although they are no longer blessed by the gods, their royal bloodline is still superior to that of ordinary people and is not much different in rank from the royal bloodline of the current royal families who are blessed by the gods.

The process of transferring royal blood to royal blood is relatively simple, as it does not require burning too much of one's life essence, thus preserving memories and normal thinking abilities.

“Beatrice, royal blood flows in your veins,” Ron said softly.

Beatrice blinked, her expression showing little reaction.

Whether her ancestors were royalty or not is in the past, and it's no longer that important to her now.

"This is where you're luckier than other war slaves."

Ron said, "Even if ordinary people are transformed into war slaves, they cannot generate royal blood in their bodies. With metabolism, their original bloodline will regenerate. The impurity of the bloodline causes the enslavement shackles to have defects."

“In a sense, enslavement and chains are actually a blessing; they can bring about a holistic improvement, including the very essence of life.”

“But the flawed shackles of enslavement also bring flaws in the enhancement of talent; they cannot bring an improvement to the life essence of the war slaves.” Ron paused.

At this point, his meaning is quite clear—to repair the flaws in the shackles of slavery is to extend your life.

Beatrice's breath hitched, and she unusually took the initiative to ask, "What should I do?"

“It’s very simple. The shackles of enslavement are flawed because the royal blood is impure. As long as the royal blood in your body becomes pure, the flaws in the shackles of enslavement will naturally disappear,” Ron said.

"Of course, it's not about purifying the royal blood that has been transformed from the shackles of enslavement, but rather about purifying the royal blood that originally flowed in your body."

Beatrice was puzzled. Her original royal blood was very diluted. How could she suppress the royal blood transformed by the enslavement potion and take the lead?

It was indeed difficult to do before, but now... Ron turned to look at Vasily, a smile playing on his lips.

When Vasily, who had been silently learning from Ron, suddenly gave him a sinister smile, his heart skipped a beat.

That bastard wouldn't be thinking of...

Chapter 65 Volunteers

In the interrogation room.

Under Beatrice's bewildered gaze, Ron uttered six words.

"Royal blood transforms into royal blood."

Upon hearing this, Vasily could no longer remain seated.

"Damn it, I will never agree to you using my royal blood for transformation!" he shouted, defending his human rights.

"Just refer to the principle of the slavery shackles, find a volunteer's royal blood, and transform it into your royal blood. As long as the amount is large enough, you can suppress the impure royal blood transformed by the slavery shackles, and then transform it into pure royal blood." Ron planned in detail.

Beatrice nodded, carefully memorizing everything Ron said.

"Hmph, if you want me to provide royal blood, you'll have to kneel down and beg me!" Vasily sneered.

“First, we need to identify the royal bloodline within you.” Ron picked up his coat from the table and took a folded piece of white paper from his pocket.

[Bloodline Genealogy Paper: 50]