Merlin and Margaret climbed the stairs cautiously. The steps were made of iron, but rust had weakened them, making them prone to collapse.
When they reached the top, Merlin stopped Margaret from moving further.
"Wait a moment. Let me check the situation first," he said quietly.
Margaret gave a small nod. "I understand."
Merlin stepped out from behind the door and surveyed the area. Fortunately, it was safe—no one was around, so they could proceed without interruption.
He signaled to Margaret, and she stepped forward immediately.
Margaret's eyes swept the room. It was dark, filled with broken objects and cardboard boxes.
Dust coated every surface, and spiderwebs hung in the corners. The stench made her gag.
"Shh!" Merlin pressed a finger to his lips. "Move slowly and quietly. If the smell bothers you, hold it in—we'll be out of here soon."
Margaret nodded and fought back her nausea. They moved carefully, minimizing any chance of making noise.
The floorboards were brittle and creaked easily under their weight.
They stopped in front of a wooden door. Merlin peered through the keyhole and saw the front room was quiet and dark.
The burly man and the thin man who had kidnapped him earlier were sprawled on the sofa, asleep. Four others lay on the floor.
Leftover food, snacks, and empty bottles of alcohol were scattered everywhere—they had clearly just gotten drunk.
Cautiously, Merlin opened the door. It creaked, but the sound slowly faded.
Once the door was fully open, he glanced at Margaret behind him and signaled for her to move.
Margaret gave a slight nod and followed. Every step had to be precise; the slightest slip could make a noise loud enough to wake them all.
If that happened, they were finished.
Merlin could handle a single adult, but facing three—or more—at once was impossible with his current strength.
Suddenly, the floor creaked behind him. Merlin quickly turned and saw Margaret staring at him, her golden eyes wide with panic. He gave her a calm nod, silently reassuring her.
"Ugh… Another glass of alcohol! Hurry up!" Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs NoveIＦire.net
The burly man on the sofa groaned in delirium, heightening the tension. Merlin immediately held his breath, clamping his mouth shut.
Moments later, the man returned to heavy snoring.
Merlin exhaled in relief and motioned for Margaret to continue. They reached the front door—but it was locked.
Merlin frowned and whispered, "The door's locked. We can't get out."
"Locked?" Margaret's breath caught. "Then… do we stay out here or go back to that prison?"
If they went back, at least it would still be safe for a while. But if they were caught in this state, they were finished. There was no way those men would act unpredictably.
"Just relax. I have a way for this," Merlin said with a faint smile.
He scanned the surroundings carefully. Now that he could control his mana, all his powers had naturally increased—including his eyesight.
Though the room seemed dark, he could see clearly. It wasn't completely pitch-black; holes in the roof and windows on the right side let in the faint light of the moon.
Suddenly, his gaze landed on a key lying on a table to the right.
'There's the key,' he murmured, excitement creeping into his voice.
He glanced at Margaret with a teasing smile. "Want to see some magic?"
"Magic?" Margaret frowned, confused.
Merlin didn't answer. He raised his right hand and whispered softly, "Grab it."
Under Margaret's astonished gaze, a black key suddenly appeared in Merlin's hand.
Her eyes widened. "How did you do that? Wait… don't tell me you're a mage?"
A mage was one of the paths for those with special powers.
Margaret recalled that only children who had reached ten years old could choose a path—mage, swordsman, or another. But why could Merlin, who looked even younger, do this?
Merlin simply chuckled, unwilling to explain. Sometimes, making a girl curious was the best way to keep her attention.
Of course, that's what one of the psychology books he'd read mentioned.
Noticing his lack of response, Margaret puffed out her cheeks in irritation.
'He's so annoying,' she snorted.
Merlin inserted the key into the lock, and thankfully, the door clicked open.
Turning the knob slowly, he and Margaret stepped out quietly. The night air brushed against them, refreshing and cool.
Margaret closed her eyes, savoring the sensation.
"It's getting late, isn't it?" Merlin sighed.
There was no way he could make it to Catrine's birthday party tonight. His carefully laid plan had completely failed.
"[Don't worry, Master. You can give it to her tomorrow morning. I'm sure your sister will understand,]" the system's soothing voice echoed in his mind.
Merlin's spirits lifted. "Thank you, system."
"Um… By the way, do you know which direction to go?" Margaret asked, concern in her voice.
Around them, only a dark, dense forest stretched in all directions. The occasional hoot of an owl broke the silence, and even she could hear the faint howls of wolves in the distance.
Going the wrong way here would be like walking into certain death.
"Don't worry. This isn't some remote forest—it's on the outskirts of the city. We'll probably reach Droswen City in about half an hour," Merlin reassured her.
Margaret exhaled in relief. "That's good…"
The two descended the narrow staircase and were about to step into the forest when Margaret suddenly froze, shivering from the cold.
Noticing this, Merlin quickly removed his cloak and wrapped it around her.
"Still cold?" he asked gently.
Margaret flinched but quickly composed herself. She shook her head and lowered her eyes slightly.
"Not anymore… thank you," she whispered. Merlin caught her words despite their softness.
He simply smiled. "Let's go."
"Um…" Margaret nodded slowly.
With that, they stepped into the depths of the forest, disappearing from sight.
Five minutes later, the burly man on the sofa stirred. A chill ran through him.
His eyelids slowly opened, and he gasped when he saw the main door wide open.
He sprang to his feet and scanned the room. Everyone else was still in place—except the one assigned to guard the underground chamber.
Without hesitation, he rushed toward the storage room and found its door open.
And to make matters worse, the door to the underground cell was open too.
"Don't tell me… the kids escaped?" His heart raced.
He dashed to the basement. The cell was open, but the kidnapped children remained unconscious.
Rushing forward, he saw his comrade lying in a horrific state. Checking him quickly, he realized the man was dead.
"Bastard!" the burly man growled, scanning the area. Then he noticed—the boy in the cloak and the girl in the silver mask had vanished.
"Damn it! They're getting away!"