Who taught him to restore the country like this?

"You..." Vasily gritted his teeth and stared at Ron angrily.

Considering that it was indeed inconvenient for the Diam Kingdom to withdraw more troops, he suppressed his anger and said, "If you let me go now, I can forgive you for what happened."

"As long as you tell me your intentions honestly, I will let you go." Ron said lightly.

"What do you want me to explain for something I didn't do?" Vasily glared.

Ron shrugged: "Since you refuse to cooperate, then make some contribution to atone for your sins."

Hearing these words that directly convicted him, Vasily was furious. He knew that it was useless to appeal to the person who wronged him, so he could only seek other ways to escape.

According to Ron, he could leave the dungeon as long as he made a contribution.

A real man can bend and stretch, and he endured this humiliation.

He opened his mouth and was about to ask what contribution he needed to make.

At this time, the iron door of the interrogation room was knocked.

"come in."

Ron stood up.

Chapter 64 Lucky

From the moment Ron walked into the interrogation room, Vasily always felt that Ron didn't seem to be here for interrogation, but rather ran to an empty corner to slack off during work.

He originally thought that Ron came here intentionally to annoy him, but now it seems that this is not the case.

Vasily looked towards the door of the interrogation room anxiously.

The iron door opens.

A woman in a light gray maid uniform walked in.

A maid?

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

What was this guy doing by calling the maid into the interrogation room?

wrong.

Is that... slavery shackles?

Vasily noticed the slave shackles around the maid's neck. According to that guy, it should be called a war slave.

He had seen similar slave shackles the night before, and for this he was brutally slaughtered and given five large bowls of royal blood.

Now, whenever he saw the war slaves, he couldn't help but feel scared.

The contribution this bastard is talking about is not to make me bleed, right?

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

She turned gently, took small steps, walked through the dim light and shadow, and stood in front of Ron, her falling hair covering her drooping brows.

It seems that he doesn't like this place very much.

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

Hearing this question, Beatrice frowned slightly and thought seriously.

After being fed the slavery potion and transformed into a war slave, her self-thought was sealed, her body was controlled by slavery shackles, and her concept of time was only today and tomorrow.

Thinking carefully, she only remembered that the time after she became a war slave was very long, but she couldn't remember exactly how many days it was.

"Do you know that the life of a war slave is very short?" Ron asked again.

This time Beatrice nodded without thinking.

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

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

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

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

Survive?

Beatrice's eyelashes trembled and she was stunned.

Being able to maintain her own death was the best outcome for her. She never expected Ron to help her get rid of the shackles of slavery.

The shackles of slavery cannot be removed by anyone.

Although he was aware of this situation, he instinctively nodded when he heard that he could survive.

She wants to live.

"Very good, you are blessed by the goddess of luck, Beatrice." Ron said with a smile.

Beatrice stared at Ron quietly.

This was the second time Ron had called out her name.

Rather than wondering why the goddess of luck favored her, she was actually more curious about how Ron knew her name.

"The shackles of slavery bestowed by the gods will only be born on the royal family. Under normal circumstances, ordinary people will not be shackled with slavery."

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

"Those who wanted to mass-produce war slaves didn't dare to provoke the royal families of other countries, so they could only target ordinary people. So, they developed a slave potion, a potion that could transform the blood of ordinary people into the blood of the royal family."

"After an ordinary person takes the enslavement potion, their blood will be concentrated and transformed into the blood of the royal family within just one month."

"However, there is a huge difference in level between the bloodlines of ordinary people and the royal bloodlines. To make up for this difference in bloodline level, a large amount of life essence must be sacrificed."

This is why war slaves generally have short lives.

Even so, there is no guarantee that the transformation will be 100% successful. Some people's bloodlines are too mixed, and their lives will burn out before the transformation is completed.

In order to increase the conversion rate, people who study slavery potions generally choose experimental subjects under the age of 14.

The younger the experimental subject is, the higher the chance of transformation and the longer the survival time.

As for 19-year-old Beatrice, she should be the guinea pig in the initial experimental stage.

Ron reached out and touched the crack of black hair on the back of her neck with his fingertips.

Beatrice shuddered slightly.

"After most war slaves take the enslavement potion, their spirits will become hollow as their life essence burns away. They will lose all memories of the past, their ability to comprehend, and their sense of self."

"But you retain your memory and normal thinking ability. Do you know why?" Ron asked.

His fingertips slid along the hideous black hair lines and slid to the gray agate at the throat that seemed to be born from flesh and blood.

Beatrice tensed.

"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 interregnum between the Divine Kingdom Wars ten years ago, a few hundred years ago, or even earlier, the royal bloodlines of those destroyed kingdoms more or less remained."

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

It turned out to be the case.

Vasily, who was tied to a chair, showed a look of enlightenment.

The ancient royal families were also blessed by the gods. Although they are no longer blessed by the gods, their royal bloodline is ultimately superior to that of ordinary people, and is not much different from the level of the royal bloodline currently blessed by the gods.

It is relatively simple to transform royal blood into royal blood. At least it does not require burning too much of the essence of life, and naturally the memory and normal thinking ability can be retained.

"Beatrice, you have royal blood flowing in your body." Ron said softly.

Beatrice blinked, her expression showing no real reaction.

Whether her ancestors were royal or not, that was already in the past. It was no longer that important to her now.

"This is where you are luckier than other war slaves."

Ron said, "Even if ordinary people are transformed into war slaves, they cannot produce royal blood in their bodies. As they metabolize, their original blood will regenerate. The impurity of their blood will cause defects in the slave shackles."

"In a sense, the shackles of slavery are actually a blessing. They can bring about all-round improvement in people, including the essence of life."

"But the talent improvement brought by the flawed slave shackles is also flawed. It cannot bring an improvement to the life source of the war slaves." Ron paused.

At this point, what he wanted to express was very clear - repair the defects of the slavery shackles, and the slavery shackles can extend your life.

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

"It's very simple. The slavery shackles are defective because the royal blood is impure. As long as the royal blood in your body becomes pure, the defects of the slavery shackles will naturally disappear." Ron said.

"Of course, it's not about purifying the royal blood transformed from the shackles of slavery, but about purifying the royal blood that originally flows in your body."

Beatrice was confused. Her original royal blood was very thin. How could she suppress the royal blood transformed by the slavery potion and take the dominant position?

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

Seeing Ron suddenly give him a malicious smile, Vasily, who was secretly learning from him, was startled.

This bastard doesn't want to...

Chapter 65 Volunteers

In the interrogation room.

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

"Royal blood transforms into royal blood."

After hearing this, Vasily could no longer sit still.

"Asshole, I won't agree to you using my royal blood for transformation!" He loudly defended 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, taking note of everything Ron said seriously.

"Hmph, if you want me to provide royal blood, you have to kneel down and beg me!" Vasily snorted coldly.

"First, you need to identify the royal blood in your body." Ron picked up the coat on the table and took out a folded white paper from his pocket.