In the shattered and damp underworld of the kingdom, Lyra gathers her army of calm and steadfast shadow warriors, both men and women who have lived too long in the darkness to believe in justice will one day vanish and Sora walks down dimly lit corridors towards the familiar light.

  Rows of metal clashing echoed in the corridor like a hymn and it was the sound that came from Feron's workshop alive with the heat of his furnace's fire and the purpose of forging weapons he had long since made.

  Sora entered the workshop with slow footsteps, stepping into the orange light pulsating from his furnace.

  Feron's back was facing him, his hammer going up and down with a trained rhythm on a flat piece of iron. Without a word, Sora placed the piece of paper he had written folded on the edge of Feron's desk and stepped back from where he was standing.

  Feron stopped doing his work for a moment and his eyebrows furrowed before glancing to the side and seeing Sora who was putting his letter down on his desk. Feron picked it up with his hands full of soot from his muscles, then opened it.

  His eyes read each of Sora's handwriting slowly.

  "Sorry for being annoying before, Feron. I knew I was completely wrong at that moment. What you said is completely true. I wanted to apologize for my previous actions, because I was dominated by anger and resentment. I could not see clearly before that which had dominated me between fighting with you in the hope of being free from the tyrant's grip or choosing to avenge what those men had done to my friend to such an extent. But, your words remain in my mind of what exactly I want to do and I have decided. I have thought about it deeply and now I see that justice and hate are not the same as black and white. Thank you... for it has reminded me of who I really am.'

  At the end of the letter, two words are underlined in their simplicity, thank you.

  Feron looked at Sora who was now changed from before by standing still in his place while looking at Feron and his gaze was steady, but humble.

  Instead of a storm of rage like before, now he became something else and Feron felt something still burning inside him, yet his fire of revenge had been extinguished earlier which was more controlled. Feron folded the letter carefully and put it in his pocket.

  "Alright, it's better like this than before at least." Feron said in his deep, low voice.

  He walked towards Sora, looking at the silent soldier with a long, thoughtful look.

  "Your eyes are still fiery... but now the fire is pointing forward and something I can't explain, but it's not a fire that doesn't burn everything in your way and I love that, kid. I really like that."

  Sora let go of the sword that was on his hip which had previously been held with a grudge and now turned into a hope that he placed on Feron's desk.

  Sora then wrote on a new piece of paper and gave Feron that,

  'I came to apologize. Not to ask any more, and you don't have to do this if you don't want to.'

  Feron read it, then grumbled with amusement. Feron put down Sora's note and punched Sora lightly on the shoulder.

  "That's where your fault lies and I should have to do it to realize what got you lost on that path."

  Feron turned to his workshop and his hand was already moving. "Previously you came to me with the feelings of resentment I felt. But now, you are a man who walks with common sense who thinks about every action and its consequences and with determination at the moment. That is your sword? That sword didn't just carry steel, right? The sword carries the meaning of a truth and even the truth is bitter for him to accept."

  Feron grinned and raised his hammer again. "And if I'm going to forge something tonight, let it be something that suits your present purpose and don't change your path in a way that makes you have to pay a fair price. It's for you too and I don't want to see someone whose adopted daughter Lyra knows that and becomes her friend fall into it."

  Sora noticed Feron who was starting to work earnestly. The sparks from the hammer that forged him danced like fireflies as the blacksmith's song began to be echoed by Feron who brought rhythmic singing from the forgotten land through his workshop.

  A song long ago sung by the bloody hands of the forgers for what they made that came from The Profaned Capital. Sora sat in a chair near his workshop quietly, watching, listening, and waiting until his sword was finished. His sword was being reforged and so was inside him.

  The moonlight shines on the broken tiles beneath the ground as the shadows walk hopefully. In the dimly lit corridors, Lyra moves like a ghost and her cloak flies behind her in the wind.

  She has selected seven of the best man who will infiltrate the prison with her from among the revolutionaries, each a ghost in their own right.

  Men and women who survived on the edge of the abyss of steel and silence. Their names are not mentioned and the most important thing now is their trustworthiness, accuracy, and purpose in this mission.

  Lyra had prepared everything from a fairly sharp throwing knife, smoke bombs, explosives, and a rope long enough for an emergency situation later. Her twin daggers were sheathed under her robe as Lyra began to pull her hood tighter to cover her face with her shadow and a cloth that covered part of her face.

  Her presence was calm, cold, and focused at this moment, yet his steps now took her to the workshop where the heat was still dancing and sparks jumped like fireflies into the darkness.

  Feron's hammer clattered once more before stopping and Lyra stepped into it with the sound of her shoes on the ground. Lyra found Sora there sitting on the edge of Feron's workshop watching intently as Feron with his sweat-soaked arms tightened the hilt of his sword on his sword.

  "It's still a long time to work, old man?" asked Lyra with her arms crossed as she peered at the steel curiously.

  Sora just turned around to see who was talking and when Sora saw Lyra, he let the blacksmith speak to Lyra and made Feron chuckle who was still finishing his work.

  "Almost, give me a little more time, my little thief cat."

  Lyra rolled her eyeballs. "Still calling me that after all these years?"

  Feron replied. "The nickname you got is a unique name to remember besides you calling it old man."

  Shortly after, Feron had finished his work and he raised Sora's sword towards the light of the workshop.

  The sword shone not because of its strength or show anything of its strength, but because of its potency that could not be explained in words even a blacksmith master or a forging god when he saw this sword carried by Sora.

  The hilt of his sword had been enhanced with a new scabbard made of deep black southern wolf skin, and the sword was now in perfect shape after some repairs and sharpening the blade to the point of splitting the paper in two.

  The sword had been rebalanced with the tip sharpened to a merciless sharpness and it felt like a weapon made for the destiny of one who carried it with the intention not of revenge, but to bear it when holding it.

  It could be felt by Feron when he held the nameless sword of Sora, and Feron handed the sword to Sora back.

  "Take this sword of yours, now this sword holds all your burdens, son. And remember, what you have said to me or your promise to me when you swing this sword must have a clear purpose and it is not based on anger or hatred to take revenge on yourself or others. You know, that this sword wasn't meant to be like that, right? And you understand better than this old man." Feron said firmly.

  Sora took the sword from Feron carefully. As his fingers began to grasp his sword, Sora felt something strange and for some reason he could tell what Feron meant and what he had said earlier.

  "Oh, I forgot one thing to tell you, son. Speaking of destiny, what actually made you who you are today? I just wanted to remind you of one of the most important things before you go out with this little thief of mine and I left him with you on this mission. We only have one opportunity and only at the moment with the right moment. Don't waste this gift of mine on you or me myself who will hit you with this hammer, understand?" said Feron which ended with his rude joke.

  Making Lyra who heard his words could only lower her head while shaking her head and muttering, "You old man."

  Sora who heard that could only smile faintly, then he lowered her head in gratitude and when Sora raised his head, he put his hand on his chest indicating that he would keep his promise.

  Lyra glanced at him as Sora did so and immediately said, "Don't take it too seriously, old people do like that."

  Sora and Lyra saw that Feron who could only laugh straightforwardly could only smile. When the three of them were over there, Sora and Lyra left Feron's workshop and the two of them began to prepare what they both had to do before starting their rescue mission to the remains of their imprisoned comrades.

  As the two of them walked side by side, Lyra elbowed Sora gently with her elbow. "Are you ready now, Sora?"

  Sora looked at her with her unreadable face, but a small nod that followed was all Lyra needed to know.

  However, just as Lyra was about to speak, Sora raised a finger that indicated that there was something he had to do. Lyra just tilted her head and asked him again, "Is there anything else?"

  Sora grabbed his bag containing paper and pen to write something to Lyra. When he finished, Sora gave his note by writing,

  "I need to do one thing before I go to complete this mission. Just wait for me in front, I'll catch up and this won't take long.'

  Lyra who was reading this, could only nod her head in understanding even though she herself didn't know what Sora wanted to do before starting his mission. when Sora got a nod from Lyra, she just smiled faintly and lowered her head in gratitude before heading towards the tents of the revolutionary forces that left Lyra alone there.

  Lyra could only sigh and obey Sora's wishes by waiting for him at the exit.

  Before the group began its mission of freeing his comrades through the shadows of Jargmund, Sora found himself walking to the doctor's tent at the far end of the camp where the tent could barely see the light of its lantern through its worn canvas and the place felt so heavy with the grief that had accumulated so much.

  Inside the tent, the world was so quiet and when Sora searched for someone inside, he finally found the person, Kaelith, sitting on her bed with her back behind her and not moving in the slightest from her position.

  Kaelith's body looked so fragile as she was covered with a thick cloth in her lower area, her blonde hair was dull with dust and despair, and her eyes just stared ahead with a blank gaze as if she was trying to reach for something distant with her hands to transcend what she wanted which was the world she had once known.

  Sora stepped towards Kaelith calmly, and every step felt heavy when Sora's eyes saw the figure of Kaelith that he knew was not as he knew it was now and it made Sora's heart so broken and numb.

  Sora moved to her side slowly and knelt beside Kaelith's bed who was staring ahead of her with a blank stare.

  There were no words that came out of Kaelith's mouth that was just silence that suffocated Sora's heart when he saw Kaelith not responding or doing what she had done when she saw it. Sora like showing his embarrassed or caring expression towards her.

  Gently and with both hands of Sora, who had many scars and bruises, grabbed Kaelith's hand by holding her, which Kaelith did not resist from Sora's grasp.

  But, Sora felt Kaelith's fingers trembling and cold that still didn't show any reaction after being held by his hand and then, such a faint whisper sounded from Kaelith's mouth saying. 'Sora...'

  Hearing Kaelith's words calling his name with a blank gaze in front of him made Sora's heart break who saw the moment and without realizing it, his tears flowed down his cheeks with guilt when he left Kaelith who had a bad experience when Sora was not by her side.

  Sora didn't know what to do anymore when he couldn't stand what she was seeing right now of Kaelith who kept mentioning his name over and over again in the same condition and Sora knew, this was not the Kaelith he had known but Kaelith was now a stranger to herself.

  Now... Kaelith had been completely drowned by the pit of hell where it should not have been.

  When Kaelith kept repeating Sora's name, Sora could only bow his head to the grip of her hand that was still grasping Kaleith's hand and in his heart said something that was his promise,

  'I promise you not to leave yourself again in the darkness of darkness that you feel now and when. I promise, I will always be by your side even if I have to sacrifice myself to take your place to go into even the darkest hole so that you don't feel this way again.'

  Sora didn't write it down and didn't sign it. However, he swore with every beat of his heart that he would do everything in his power not to let Kaelith be like this again even if he had to turn into something he never wanted to save just one person who was precious to him and therefore, Sora now had a reason to remember who she was today with what he had said in his heart as his vow.

  Sora lifted his head and stood up, he leaned forward and gently kissed Kaelith's forehead before he left him to save the others inside the prison.

  Then, with a final swipe on his knuckles, Sora let go of his grip and went out of the tent to begin his mission with Lyra to free his friends.

  Outside, the shadows had already moved and at the exit, Lyra was seen waiting for Sora along with her small unit that had gathered ready to infiltrate Jargmund's prison. Sora, who was the last member of the intruder team, came towards Lyra and the others, which made Lyra not ask anything, which made her wait for Sora for a little longer and Lyra didn't want to know even though she knew what Sora did before.

  When Sora had arrived and the entire intruder team was now complete, Sora did not look behind him but his promise remained in his heart to return to Kaelith to accompany him.

  And that night, the intruders began to move as fast as the wind whispered through the alleys of the streets of Jargmund and swept the dust over the round, dirty pavement of the streets.

  The city was asleep or pretended to be asleep, but in its bones there was something moving and something silent but so fast moving.

  Lyra who was the leader of the intruder team moved first and the other members slid behind her like a blink of an eye. Sora followed near the center and his every step was measured to keep up with their rapid movements with his every breath controlled.

  There is no room for error this time, not for tonight. Teams of intruders shot through houses, narrow alleys and rooftops that were ghostly among the stars.

  The smell of drunkenness and wine still lingered in the air of the king's feast held inside his palace with his concubines and the drunken laughter that echoed faintly from the palace which was located far from where the intruder team was moving.

  Suddenly, Lyra stopped and raised her hand as a sharp gesture and a gesture from her signaled to stop for a moment.

  The intruder team immediately stopped their movement and scattered to disappear into the surrounding shadows. Sora slid behind a gate with his hand resting softly on the hilt of his sword that had just been forged by Feron with his sword steel, feeling calm under his fingers and so ready for an upcoming fight.

  Lyra glanced at Sora, then turned around and disappeared into the dark alley in front of her. Her steps lead her to a deeper old town niche, a forgotten corner drenched in shadow.

  There, in the narrow alley, and the smell of the alley, was like the carcass of a rat, a man stood waiting with his armor marking him as the guard of Jargmund, but his eyes spoke only of greed.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  When the guard realized that Lyra had come and was seen in front of her heading towards him slowly, the guard began to ask Lyra without further ado, "You brought that things?"

  Lyra grabbed her pouch and threw the heavy pouch at the guard. The bag hit the ground with the sound of a coin clacking that was very loud.

  The guard knelt hungrily on his fingers as he picked up the bag containing the coin, then opened it to check it first and saw his face beaming like a hungry dog fed by his master.

  "I didn't repeat it a second time. So, listen to this carefully!" said the guard quickly and whispered to Lyra.

  "The key to the east cell block is stored in the warden's office which is on the second floor of the left wing of the tower. Two guards were stationed in front of his office but they were now in a state of half-drunkenness after partying with others to celebrate the king's birthday inside the prison. Tonight? Perhaps even the guards and even the guards were completely careless in their watch."

  The guard glanced around him, then leaned closer and whispered back to Lyra.

  "And the prisoners you have been looking for, they are all in the lower cell of the north wing of the tower, the second floor. One is locked behind bars of iron reinforced by magic and according to the rumors circulating, he is dangerous and can use magic. But the condition of these prisoners you are looking for is completely battered, their bones broken, and they have fatal injuries to their vital parts but miraculously, all of them you are looking for are still alive and breathing from the last time I heard."

  Lyra didn't say anything other than listen to him. The guard stopped babbling to catch his breath before whispering again.

  "Oh, and one more thing you need to know, let's call this a bonus of information from me. Most of the guards were still asleep from the effects of the drunkenness from attending the king's banquet at the palace earlier. It's probably the best night you'll ever get from a prison that is rated as strict and unforgiving for those who try to escape from it."

  Without a word, Lyra turned around and disappeared into the shadows of the alley once more. The guard didn't even notice it because he was too busy counting the coins he got.

  Back at the meeting point, Lyra appeared again like a whisper, her robes dancing behind her as she knelt beside Sora and her team.

  "Sticking to the previous plan, we are moving quickly. First, to the east wing tower where the cell key was located in the warden's office and the 2 guards who were guarding the office were now completely drunk to be easily paralyzed. Second, when you get the keys, move straight to the north wing tower to free our friends who are there and Sora, your friends are also there." Said Lyra who explained the entire plan with the information she got.

  "I want everyone but Sora and myself to carry out this plan, to disable all the guards visible before your eyes and secure their way out. Considering that we only have one entrance and the same exit, which is the entrance to the prison. I want you all to secure the conditions and situation as long as this plan goes in place before something bad happens and you all must know it, right?"

  The rest of her team nodded firmly and understood Lyra's direction.

  "Good, move to the location, now!" said Lyra to her entire team including Sora.

  The intruders immediately moved back and carried out their plan that had been drawn up earlier and just so, the shadows reappeared among the shadows of the night silently, quickly, and deadly that the prison of Jargmund saw before them as it awaited their arrival.

  The air in the prison was thicker than blood, thicker than sadness. It smells like dry sweat, rusty chains, and decay that has lasted for days.

  In the darkness of the cell, three shattered men sat side by side. Namien could hardly be recognized his face with the condition of his once sharp and sarcastic tongue was now silent because his face was swollen with bruises and wounds that had dried, his lips were torn, blood was still clotting beside his lips and chin.

  He breathed through his nose with a gasp and every breath he took was a victory for him that was painful to feel.

  Vael sat with his back pressed against the stone wall, his body full of wounds and bruises. His armor was long gone, replaced by a tattered cloth that clung to his body like dead skin.

  His chest was seen with a white liquid that looked like pus flowing from the marks of whipping and punctures from rusty objects that made his wounds infected around his chest area and his hands. Every breath he breathed was fire in his ribs and yet, his eyes were still burning not with anger but with something colder that was his obvious goal to eliminate this arbitrary tyranny.

  Arelan, who had once been feared in front of his enemies on the battlefield to the point of being nicknamed the wolf that roared ferociously and uncontrollably, was now silent in a thousand languages with his wounds that seemed to extend and spread from his forehead to his jaw and bare chest showing the rough carvings of the torture of the guards who used rusty weapons and blunt objects to torture him to the pulp, bruises, to the wound that has dried yellowish.

  He did not grimace at the pain that had become his friend and not a tormentor to him.

  And still, in the midst of it all, Silas Verne... Still singing who was still humming to himself as he walked in a small circle in his very narrow cell. But, as long as he sang incoherently in that false tone, his mind remained as sharp as ever.

  "The ground shook once again, children... And the sound of the bridge collapsing was heard at the end of the ocean. Hmm... It's weird. Hey, you guys on the other side! Do you feel it? It's like the sound of the beating of war drums coming from underground." Said Silas who smiled faintly and then laughed out loud when he felt that something he was waiting for, now it will come.

  The others didn't say anything because they were too tired to respond to his words, but still they listened to all Silas's chatter from their cells, of course, in that battered state.

  Silas saw no reaction from the three of them, began to laugh softly. "It will come, rest assured of our freedom in a moment. Like a thief at night with a key made between his teeth to free himself from his trap."

  From across the corridor, a guard walks in and accidentally hears Silas' words, which the guards have deemed crazy, starting to sneeze at Silas' words sarcastically.

  "Shut up, you crazy old man! Keep talking like that and I'll shut your dirty mouth, you rotten bastard!" The guard threatened with his rifle to Silas who laughed at his words.

  Silas turned slowly and looked the guard in the eye with a smirk that shouldn't be on the face of any sane person to return his words. "Why don't you come in here and try it, you rotten little pig?"

  The guard gritted his teeth indicating his emotions when he heard the insult directly to him from the madman and the guard instantly slammed the door of Silas' iron cell hard until it opened, he stepped into Silas' cell with a stick in his hand that he was already holding.

  Without hesitation, the guard hit Silas hard and mercilessly didn't even give him a break to scream.

  Surprisingly, Silas didn't scream in pain but instead he laughed uncontrollably and it sounded like mockery to the guards who beat him endlessly.

  Silas' blood dripped onto the floor of his cell, but his smile never faded.

  "You feel it, don't you? This land... shake violently and will collapse tonight because of the vibrations you can handle." Silas' whisper to the guard, which almost made his face get a severe blow from the guard.

  The guard stopped because his energy was wasted in serving the madman, he thought, which made him gasp from exhaustion and the guard responded to Silas' words.

  "You're crazy and don't even have sanity inside you as a human being."

  "No, I'm not crazy because I'm the only one who understands how to think compared to you who are still trying to process in your slow brain, the singing donkey." Silas replied sarcastically to the guard by showing his mouth already filled with blood.

  The guard was annoyed to be insulted again, he chose to spit on Silas and came out of the cell angrily without serving the madman, slamming the door of his cell while cursing at Silas who only laughed at the guard's insults and insults like his daily food.

  Namien, who was barely able to raise his head, glanced towards Silas' cell as the guard walked away from their cell area and asked Silas.

  "What... That is what you really feel, old man?" Silas leaned against the wall and wiped the blood from his lips, answering Namien's question.

  "The moon has reached its point. The guards had been consumed by the pleasure of the wine and the women that had made them all drunk and now, the wind of the night... whispering to our bones to deliver a message to us today. Are you listening to it, snake?"

  Vael straightened his body which was groaning because of the pain in his body every time he was moved, he began to speak. "You said to wait and until now we have been waiting for what you said."

  "And now, now that you're listening carefully... is there something different that you are listening to?" said Silas with his eyes shining to be a little more patient.

  Outside their cells and somewhere inside the prison, soft vibrations echoed through the walls that were almost imperceptible, but the sign that Silas said was unmistakable. Their freedom... coming soon

  The moon was already at its highest position behind the black clouds, its pale light casting faint shadows along the moss-covered streets and the entrance of the prison was beginning to be visible before the current intruder team.

  The air was damp and the smell of iron and foul smell was typical of the lower sector of Jargmund. Lyra who was observing from the side of the boulder, her gloved hand raised with a sharp movement.

  Her eyes lit up, focused on the two guards near the rusty prison entrance that the guards were leaning against the stone wall laughing like fools.

  Their words were vague as a result of the bottles of wine around them and in their grasped hands.

  Sora knelt silently beside her, his breathing regular. The tip of his newly forged sword shimmered slightly in the moonlight, but he didn't move. He was now a silent and wary shadow of the conditions in front of him. Lyra appointed two members of her team to disable the two guards. Lyra's appointed member nodded once and disappeared into the fog-filled darkness.

  In a few moments, the guards' laughter stopped instantly and even the guards were unaware of the attack on them due to their negligence. The first two threats, now vanished without a trace, two collapsed bodies, and a signal from Lyra to disable them with death.

  The rest of the intruder team began to appear by sneaking through the gaps of the shadows. The bodies of the two guards were dragged to nearby bushes covered with old sacks to reduce suspicion.

  Lyra looked at Sora and tilted her head slightly forward and gave her a hint through her hand gestures which meant that,

  'We're moving now!'

  Sora quickly understood Lyra's sign language and the two of them went straight into the prison with the other members of the intruder team. When the intruder team entered the dark corridors at the intersection between the four towers.

  Lyra again gave a sign language message to her entire team by raising her hand again and moving her hand as if indicating something that meant a signal to separate.

  Her team immediately broke up the formation. Like threads unraveling from a central node, they scattered across the halls each paired with a single goal: gathering information, eliminating guards, and mapping blind spots.

  That was the method that Lyra had taught them in her training which was part of efficiency without causing chaos. And now, only Lyra and Sora were left. Lyra turned to Sora with a barely audible whisper,

  "We go to the east wing first. That's where the warden's office is located. If we really find out what the informant said, we can release them and get some documents in the form of a list of detainees for information that will be handed over to the headquarters later. Lock your friends' cells in the same place as well. So, don't worry about other things."

  The voice that denied Lyra's words could only nod softly and walk with Lyra with their light steps, not even sweeping the dust off the cracked floor tiles. Together, they move like two shadows fusing against the darker shadows.

  As they passed through the scrap metal gate, a soft voice groaned from the cells behind someone who was dreaming, or perhaps reliving a nightmare.

  They didn't stop until their goal was completely focused on the warden's office that kept the keys to the cell of their detained friends. Every creak of the wooden door was heard and every drop of water from the ceiling echoing in the corridor was a warning to the two of them, but neither of them wavered at such a thing.

  After a few narrow stairs and another turn the two of them went through, the two of them finally reached the oak door with a rusty iron support and on it was written 'The Warden's Office.'

  Lyra stopped and her eyes narrowed as she tried to open the warden's office door. "Locked, but it won't be for long." He whispered.

  She reached into her pocket, taking out thin tools of metal and bone, it was a key-breaking tool that she had made herself. As Lyra knelt in front of the keyhole of the office door, Sora stood guard with her eyes scanning every dark corridor for signs of movement from the enemy and his grip firmly on the hilt of his sword. When there is a sound of a door indicating that the warden's office door is open and Lyra beckons Sora to go inside.

  Inside the warden's office, there were various smells ranging from the smell of old tobacco, sweat, and ink. Piles of papers were scattered on the workbench, some of which were torn and others stamped with the mark of the Jargmund regime.

  On the farthest wall, a lock rack hangs under a diagram of the prison wings that is a map print of the Jargmund prison area. Lyra quickly moved to the desk and searched for the latest documents such as shifts, assignments, and names.

  Meanwhile, Sora approaches the lock rack by searching for the key label until he finds what he needs. Sora found the keys with the words 'keys to the cells of the north wing.'

  Sora held the key up until he made a soft clack as a sign that he had found the key to the prison cell he was looking for, and Lyra, who had just finished reading the documents to find the whereabouts of the leader of the revolutionary army who was also in the cell of the northern wing where he was being held.

  Lyra nodded slowly. "Before that, I took a printout of this map and we moved right away."

  After taking out the map printout that was near the keychain rack and storing it in Lyra's pocket, the shadows of the two of them moved quickly towards the north wing and wouldn't wait long.

  Because, even the next storm will not be able to overcome their current movement in freeing their friends.

  After obtaining the keys and some important documents from the chief warden's office, Lyra moves as fast as a shadow. Each corridor was a familiar maze to Lyra who only looked and analyzed for a moment before the map she had taken was put in her pocket. Sora followed her from behind with his freshly forged sword feeling balanced and alive in his hand, his every step almost silent and blended with the silence of the prison that had a sense of oppression.

  The two of them moved quickly until they arrived at a slightly brighter corridor intersection. There, it was seen near a wooden table with four guards sitting around who were playing cards and several bottles of cheap wine scattered around them.

  Suddenly, a rude and loud laugh erupted from one of the guards who had obviously just lost his big bet in playing cards with the other guards.

  "Fuck you, Oric! You must have cheated this time!"

  Seeing the gap, Lyra didn't wait for the opportunity. His hand moved slowly to take out the two blades of the throwing knife that he had just thrown and shot through the air with an almost inaudible hiss.

  Two of the guards gasped, their wide-eyed eyes in shock before they fell prostrate on the table with blood gushing out from their necks, throwing knives stuck with deadly precision at the base of their necks.

  "What—"

  The two remaining guards jumped to their feet in shock, staring in horror at their comrades' now bloodied bodies.

  While the two guards were still fixated in shock, Sora took advantage of the momentum by darting forward like a ghost.

  In one flowing and silent movement, his freshly forged sword blade sliced through the two guards who slashed the two guards in a single clean arch attack.

  The two guards immediately fell to the floor without having time to shout in one Sora attack that hit the two.

  Silence again enveloped the prison corridors and left only the smell of wine and blood pooling on its floor.

  Lyra looked at Sora with admiration that complimented her heart for her speed and precision that was almost inhuman to Lyra. They exchanged glances and brief nods, then moved back towards their friends' cell block in the north wing.

  The strange-sounding sound of footsteps in the quiet corridors of the prison made Silas Verne, who was leaning against the bars of his cell, raise his head.

  "They've already arrived." He said with a faint smile.

  Namien, who was lying helpless nearby, heard it asking him. "Who came?"

  Silas looked at her, his eyes shining in the dim torchlight. "Our freedom, of course, snakes."

  Shortly after Silas had spoken, two shadowy figures appeared at the end of the corridor which made Vael always keep his eyes open, looking at the silhouette first until he realized one of the figures he was familiar with and spoke with all his might.

  "Here, Sora!"

  Sora emerged from the darkness, followed by Lyra. The three of them Vael, Namien and Arelan who had seen Sora's face again, were now filled with great relief in their hearts.

  The three of them tried to stand with the remnants of the energy they had at that time.

  Lyra wasted no time and she immediately moved to Silas' cell when she realized that his cell was opposite the cell of Sora's friends.

  "Silas, I'm sorry if I'm late. I'll open your cell soon." Lyra said by bowing and even kneeling to respect Silas and then, standing up again to free Silas from his cell.

  While taking out the set of keys, Lyra began to open the rusty padlock. "Take your time, Lyra."

  Namien who saw Sora in front of him, couldn't help but sarcasm that was typical of him even though in a weak voice of pain he was receiving. "Hey, why did you take so long, Sora? We could die rotting here if you don't save us quickly."

  Sora looked at Namien then at his injuries, and quickly gestured a sincere apology.

  Namien just chuckled softly which made him grimace in pain. "Well... At least you are the savior of our lives. Do you want a kiss from this person you saved in return like in a traveling circus show scene as possible?"

  Silas cell opens and Lyra then moves quickly to open the cell of Sora's friends. However, in the middle of the process, one of the guards who had previously fainted from drinking too much in another room came to his senses when he came out of his room, looking at the four corpses of his colleague and seeing them wide open in horror.

  Without thinking, he turned around and ran as hard as he could toward the stairs that led to the roof of the prison tower where his goal was one: to sound the alarm bells.

  There will be wars and there will be bloodshed from the worst thing Lyra has talked about before.

  Their freedom that had just felt so close now had to be paid a much higher price and they would face the challenge of the real storm now.

  The heavy iron clattered and creaked as Lyra unlocked the door of the last cell. Namien, Vael, and Arelan, in those tattered and blood-stained clothes, stepped out slowly and their movements tense from the torture they had endured.

  In the dim torchlight, their eyes met Sora's empty yet still burning eyes with the same fervor they had carried through every battle.

  "I... I'm sorry about Kaelith." Vael said in his slow voice accompanied by hoarseness and breakage.

  Arelan lowered his head and heaped Vael's words, "I'm still not strong enough to protect anyone. Ini... This is all my fault."

  Namien, his lips broken and crusted with dried blood, chuckled bitterly, "And this genius, I was the one who spilled my story into the wrong ear. I am the one who lit the spark and I should be responsible for all this."

  Sora stepped forward.

  There were no words, just a silent gesture of his hand placed on his chest, then slowly pointed outwards as a sign of apology, and mutual guilt.

  He looked at each of them with eyes that were not only tired, but also full of guilt.

  "Not completely and it's not you who should bear it. We are your friends... but we have become your burden and even your obstacle." Said Namien who read Sora's expression.

  Lyra's voice sounded sharp, sharper than the dim torchlight. "Hey, Hello who is still in the reunion? It's nice to see you again, but maybe we shouldn't do it right now in a place like this?"

  Silas could only laugh as he limped out of his cell at the sight of it before him and swept his hand towards Lyra like a conductor conducting a somber symphony. "Come on, little thief. Let them at least look at each other after surviving what you will never experience. Look at their survival art, they were literally sewn with blood as a result of the evidence."

  Shortly after Silas's words, the prison alarm bell began to ring and the echo of the alarm rang through the prison corridors and even reached the king's palace signaling that a memorial of their imminent death was coming.

  Silas' smile faded slowly and said. "Uh-oh... and the curtain of the show fell to end this reunion session."

  Lyra's eyes bulged. "Move, now!"

  They all ran as hard as they could towards the exit of Jargmund's prison.

  Lyra led ahead, blending in with the shadows through the corridors she had remembered in silence. Sora walked with a brisk pace beside her, sword sheathed but ready to calm down before the eruption.

  Silas leads the middle, agile as a ghost despite his old age. Behind, Namien, Vael, and Arelan moved as fast as their shattered bodies allowing for sharp pain in every breath, every step, but they didn't waver.

  "Come on, we don't have time before Vorlag arrives here." Lyra snapped, who had turned her head behind her.

  That name should not be mentioned and should not be mentioned in the circumstances as they are now.

  Arelan's jaw began to clench as the chill shivered past him and said to Lyra, "That flesh-and-bone anomalous vorlag?"

  "Yes, that Vorlag." Lyra replied in her voice low and gloomy.

  Arelan felt his mouth dry as he remembered and had heard some of the stories about Vorlag, the flesh-and-bone anomaly that every soldier had heard his story about.

  A man who never bowed and never bleeded like the others as he slammed into the battlefield like a living disaster.

  Vorlag was not chosen by the gods, not even marked by runes as his strength, but rather he was just a human who was so pure in his brutality and unstoppable in battle.

  If it comes... So this escape is only a countdown to catastrophe for those who try to bring this anomalous figure of flesh and bones.