Chapter 38: The Riddler is in Trouble

The Royal Capital Prison, second basement level.

The cells here were even colder and more damp. Cold beads of water condensed on the stone walls, and the air was thick with a mixture of mold and despair.

Only the flickering light from the torches at the end of the corridor cast twisted shadows of the iron bars against the walls.

Prinval and his companions were being held in solitary confinement. As the heavy iron doors closed behind them, the icy sound of the locks clicking shut served as the death knell of his life.

The man sat slumped on the damp, moldy straw, his eyes staring blankly at the wall in front of him.

The Blanche family, the Lufenians family, the Regent… these names tumbled through his mind, bringing nothing but boundless darkness.

He even began to envy those comrades who had simply died during the mission; at least they didn’t have to endure this slow torture of waiting for death.

Prinval could almost see his own corpse hanging from the gallows, swaying gently in the cold wind.

Time flowed slowly in the dead silence. He didn’t know how long had passed—perhaps an hour, perhaps several. From the distance came the constant cries or curses of other prisoners, making the atmosphere even more oppressive.

Prinval’s fingers unconsciously brushed against the damp straw beneath him when his fingertips suddenly touched a gap in the stone bricks in the corner. The bricks there seemed slightly different… as if something had been stuffed into the crevice.

Normally, he wouldn’t have cared, but in this cell, anything could carry his fragile, broken hope. He forced himself to perk up and leaned into the corner, looking closely by the faint torchlight filtering in from the corridor.

There seemed to be a small piece of folded paper in the gap between the stone bricks. His fingers trembled as he reached out, carefully digging the object out with his fingernails.

Prinval felt as if his heart was about to stop beating. Holding his breath, he used his frozen, stiff fingers to tremblingly unfold the roll of paper.

On it was the secret code agreed upon with the Boss for emergency contact.

The translated content was very simple, consisting of only four words.

Wait quietly, speak nothing.

Prinval suddenly gripped the note tightly, as if clutching his life-saving straw.

Hahahaha… Hahajajajaja…

He hadn’t been abandoned! The Boss actually remembered him!

When was this message left? Had the Boss already predicted they might fail? Or were there members of the Brotherhood in this prison? Or perhaps the Boss’s hand could reach even into the prisons of the Royal Capital?

Although he didn’t know what made him different from the others in the Boss’s eyes, at least… at least there was still a glimmer of hope, wasn’t there?

Once his emotions had calmed, Prinval suddenly remembered something. He rolled the paper back up, stuffed it into his mouth, and swallowed it with difficulty.

Only after doing all this did he slump back onto the straw.

***

The night was as dark as ink, pressing heavily over Valgard.

The Lufenians mansion was immersed in tranquility, with only a few magic lamps under the eaves emitting a dim yellow glow. On the third floor of the main building, the window of the room belonging to Loran opened silently by a crack.

A dark shadow slid gracefully out of the window and landed beside the neatly trimmed bushes in the courtyard below without making a sound.

Loran had changed into black clothes suitable for movement, blending almost perfectly into the background within the shadows. After confirming he hadn’t attracted any attention, he quietly hopped over the wall and moved quickly along the shadows of the buildings.

The advantages of a second playthrough were fully displayed at this moment. The defensive layout of Valgard, the patrol routes of the guards, the intervals between shifts, the points where the magic alarm runes had the weakest perception, and even which corners had piles of clutter that could provide temporary cover… all these details were clearly imprinted in Loran’s mind.

For Loran, who had specifically memorized the “map,” this was practically no different from taking a stroll down the street.

He precisely timed every blind spot, moving like a ghost through the city. About half an hour later, he arrived at a somewhat desolate section of the city wall in the East District.

Small-scale repairs were being carried out here. The erected scaffolding had not yet been dismantled, and sand, stone, and bricks were piled on the ground. Consequently, the patrol density was much lower than elsewhere. Furthermore, a section of the city wall had its magic sentries temporarily removed because the magic barrier needed restructuring.

This was the exit Loran had selected long ago. After confirming there was no movement on either the inner or outer sides, he vaulted down and vanished silently into the wild grass outside the city wall.

Looking back at the towering wall behind him, Loran let out a soft sigh.

Conceptual Imagination: Anchor target to Elia.

An invisible bond was established in his consciousness. Instantly, Loran felt his body become exceptionally light, and his perception grew sharper.

The wind whistled in his ears. After buffing himself with wind magic, Loran sped toward the Ice Lake.

He wasn’t sure if it was because he had watched Elia instantly kill those five unlucky bastards during the day, but his synchronization rate with Elia had risen slightly again.

The benefit was that the performance simulated by “Conceptual Imagination” had improved slightly, and the mana consumption had decreased accordingly.

This was crucial for Loran because “Conceptual Imagination” was itself a massive drain on mana. Stacking it with other skills or high-intensity actions would quickly drain his mana reserves, becoming the greatest constraint on his actions.

Loran opened the Magic Cube’s storage space and poured out two diamond-shaped crystals the size of a fingernail. He had prepared many consumables before leaving the Lufenians fief for Valgard, and they were coming in handy now.

As for why he didn’t use Blink to travel:

First, using Blink continuously for long-distance travel didn’t cost much less mana than his current method at this stage.

Second, and more importantly, Blink produced a very obvious mana fluctuation at the destination. It might be difficult for low-level mages to detect, but for the Royal Guard Mage Corps stationed in Valgard that monitored the entire city and its surroundings, such unregistered and frequent spatial fluctuations at night would be as conspicuous as a lighthouse in the dark.

Loran didn’t want to trade a moment’s convenience for a confrontation with the well-equipped Royal Capital Guards.

After traveling silently through the woods for about half an hour, the misty and chilly breath of the Ice Lake drifted faintly from ahead.

Loran slowed his pace, quietly sliding behind a patch of bushes, holding his breath as he looked out.

The area around the Ice Lake, which had seemed empty and lonely during the day, was now flickering with scattered torchlight. There were also several magic lanterns fixed on wooden stands, casting long, shifting shadows across the lakeside area.

As expected.

Loran’s heart sank, but he wasn’t particularly surprised.

He hadn’t guessed wrong; this place was indeed being watched. Although he didn’t know when the news had leaked, he had to hurry.

The boy silently retreated from the bushes and circled toward the illuminated area along the edge of the lakeside forest.

Thanks to the wretched way items dropped in this world, he didn’t know what he would get even after successfully activating the ruins’ core. He only knew he would randomly obtain one of three sealed legendary holy relics.

The reason Loran was so persistent was precisely because one of those three holy relics happened to be one of the rare offerings listed for the Magic Cube’s “Ritual Altar”—the “Realm Dancer.”

The information provided by the Magic Cube was incomplete, only indicating that using this relic as an offering could significantly enhance the Blink skill. However, the Magic Cube gave no details regarding the extent of the enhancement or the resulting effects.

Loran could only comment that the “riddle-man” behavior was getting out of hand.

But even so, the temptation of the “Realm Dancer” remained immense. Enhancing Blink meant a leap in mobility and survivability. Only someone who had experienced being kited by others would understand that pain.