The figure pulled back his hood. His hair, damp with sweat, clung to his face. His eyes were friendly, yet filled with unease. He quickly opened the cell door and tried to unlock the chains that bound Crowne’s hands, but failed.
"Sorry. It seems the key is with another guard," the man said.
Crowne remained silent. He was shocked to see the man’s face. He had met this man twice before: once at the city gate, and again at the beach during the sea monster attack. Seeing him here made Crowne confused, because the man should not be on his side.
"Why are you helping me?"
"I’ll explain later," the man whispered. His voice was low and trembling, as if afraid any sound would draw the guards’ attention. "Follow me! I’ll get you out of here."
The man glanced at the cell door, making sure no shadows of guards were nearby, then whispered, "I’m certain you’re a good person. You don’t belong in this place." He walked toward the cell door again. "Come on, before the guard shift changes!"
Crowne slowly stood up. His legs were stiff after sitting on the cold floor for so long. He stepped carefully, testing if his body could still move. He could move relatively freely, though his hands and feet were still bound together by chains.
"Let’s go!" the man urged.
He walked toward a fainted guard on the floor and checked his breathing. "He’s still alive," he muttered in relief. Then he dragged the unconscious guard’s body to a dark corner and covered him with an old robe lying nearby.
He took a small torch from the wall, dimming it so the light would not be too bright. They walked through a narrow stone corridor where every step echoed between the damp walls. The smell of rust and mold filled the air.
Several times, they had to stop. Around a sharp corner, footsteps could be heard. The man guided Crowne, signaling with his fingers for silence or to move aside. They held their breath behind the wall until the sound faded away. Only then did they move again.
Tension filled the air. Every second felt heavy and suffocating for the man who was helping Crowne. Crowne, on the other hand, remained calm. The two continued walking carefully, Crowne following from behind.
"We’re almost at the storage room," the intruder whispered. "From there, there’s a tunnel leading outside, but we’ll need to crawl through a narrow passage."
Just as they were about to move, footsteps echoed again. The man quickly pushed Crowne back. His eyes darted around, and he pulled Crowne into a nearby room. They stayed still inside, not making a sound.
The footsteps drew closer. Both men froze, holding their breath.
"Did you hear? They said Lord Delon will personally deal with the problem of the fishermen’s raiders. He’s going to join the search. Isn’t that great?" whispered one of the passing guards.
"Indeed. Lord Delon is too kind. I don’t understand why some people hate him."
"They’re just jealous. Useless fools."
"Right. Truly disgusting people."
The man beside Crowne clenched his fists tightly. He wanted to shout back at them, but he couldn’t afford to speak. He had to stay hidden and silent. Finally, the voices faded away into the distance.
"Let’s go!" the man urged again.
He opened the door, followed by Crowne. They hurried toward the storage room the man had mentioned. After several minutes, they finally saw it, but two guards stood watch at the entrance.
The man clicked his tongue in frustration. "Damn. Looks like we’ll have to find another way," he muttered. Newest update provıded by N0velFire.ɴet
But Crowne moved before he could stop him. He suddenly ran toward the two guards. The man’s eyes widened in shock. He wanted to stop Crowne, but it was already too late.
The two guards instantly reached for their weapons. As they thrust their spears forward, Crowne dodged swiftly. In a blink, he slipped past them and appeared behind their backs.
He struck both guards from behind, knocking them out instantly.
Crowne nodded toward the man. "Come on!" he said.
The man quickly ran after Crowne. Together, they dragged the unconscious guards to the corner of the room, propping them against a pile of old crates and covering them with whatever they could find.
"Quick, help me cover them," the man whispered.
Crowne stacked several sacks of grain on top of the guards’ bodies, then threw an old piece of cloth over them. Once everything was hidden well, they looked at each other. Their breathing was shallow, but their eyes were sharp.
"Where to?" Crowne asked briefly.
"There, behind that crate. There’s a small tunnel," the man replied quickly.
They pushed aside a large crate in the corner. Behind it was a narrow passage, barely wide enough for a man to crawl through. A foul smell wafted out from within.
"Wait, let me go first," the man said as he crawled inside.
An alarm suddenly blared throughout the mansion of Doomsty’s city lord. Both men froze for a moment, then immediately scrambled into the narrow tunnel. Crowne followed behind. The smell grew worse the deeper they crawled.
After several minutes, they finally saw light ahead. When they emerged, their feet splashed into something wet. The foul stench hit them strongly. Crowne looked down and almost gagged. A sticky, strange liquid clung to his legs.
Moments later, he saw something yellow floating on the water. He turned his head upward immediately, refusing to look down again.
"This is the final waste outlet," the man explained, walking ahead. "Come on! We’re almost out."
Crowne followed him, pale-faced, covering his nose as they trudged through the filthy passage. Finally, they reached the end of the tunnel. Beyond it was a river. They both jumped in and let the current carry them away.
"We made it. You’re free now," the man said.
Crowne nodded. "Thank you," he replied.
"What can I do to repay your kindness?" Crowne asked.
The man’s expression turned somber. He lowered his head for a while, then smiled faintly. He pulled out a folded letter and handed it to Crowne. When Crowne tried to read it, the man stopped him with a shake of his head.
"You can read it tomorrow," the man said softly.
Crowne wanted to ask, but he decided not to. It would be rude to question the one who had just saved him. He simply nodded.
"Thank you," Crowne said.
"You’re welcome," the man replied.