Chapter 57
The old woman returned to her cell without a shred of suspicion.
I was the only one who noticed the subtle, unusual change that had taken place.
Rihardt had made it look as if he were still asleep in his cell on the first floor—he’d arranged pillows and clothing under the blanket to mimic a human shape—but that wouldn’t last long.
Since four commoners shared a single cell, his absence would be discovered much sooner. But my cell, located on the second floor, was the easiest to escape from. There really wasn’t another option.
Right now, Rihardt was hiding under my bed.
I had hidden the old woman’s magnifying glasses, so even if she sensed something was off, she wouldn’t realize Rihardt was there.
A short while later, the sound of a patrolling guard’s footsteps echoed down the hall. That was our cue.
“What’s going on? A fight? Can’t you people ever stop—”
The guard’s startled voice came from right outside my solitary cell.
He must have been alarmed to see me pinning the old woman down, hand over her mouth.
“Sorry about this, Malefico.”
“Mmph! Mmph!”
I stuffed a cloth—inscribed with a sealing charm—into the old woman’s mouth and tied it firmly behind her head. Her hands were bound as well, so even if we left, she wouldn’t be able to scream.
When the guard hastily unlocked the cell and stepped inside, he found Rihardt waiting behind the door. His eyes widened as he realized something was wrong.
“A-a breach—!”
Before he could finish, Rihardt struck the back of his neck, knocking him out cold.
That was how our reckless escape began.
The weapon Rihardt used?
A Bible.
How symbolic, I thought bitterly. A fake saint and a fugitive using the Holy Scripture as a weapon.
Rihardt dragged the unconscious guard into the cell. I watched his back as he leaned the man against the wall.
I had half-expected Rihardt to stop short of killing him. And indeed, he did. He turned toward me, face stiff and voice tense.
“Why did you take matters into your own hands?”
“We couldn’t just leave Malefico like that—she might’ve screamed.”
“I told you we should wait until she fell asleep. You never listen to a word I say.”
His scolding was expected, so I stayed calm. Honestly, I’d braced for worse.
As I grabbed the ring of keys from the guard’s belt, I said evenly,
“If we’d waited any longer, someone downstairs would’ve noticed you were missing. It’s safer to move before we’re caught.”
“I suppose… there’s no other choice. Forgive me, ma’am.”
Rihardt murmured an apology to the bound old woman. I jingled the keys in my hand.
“No more delays. Let’s head upstairs.”
“……”
Rihardt hesitated, glancing between the unconscious guard and the old woman.
But there was no time for indecision.
“We can’t afford to waste time,” I urged. “Leave her. Change into the guard’s uniform.”
I found the right key and freed his wrists from the shackles.
Moments later, dressed as a guard, Rihardt and I climbed the stairs leading to the third floor.
The second-floor corridor was eerily quiet; the faint sound of prisoners snoring echoed from the cells.
If we walked this path, there would be no turning back. The realization made me tense up with a sudden, belated fear.
But I couldn’t show it. Rihardt had already risked everything because of me.
As I tried to steady my trembling hands, he spoke coldly while scanning the hall ahead.
“Once we reach the fourth floor, where the warden’s office is, we’ll be clear. Don’t be afraid.”
“Wouldn’t it be better to go back to the first floor instead? We don’t even know which key opens the outer gate—”
“Then we’ll make the warden tell us. One way or another.”
His tone was unusually sharp.
“Alright, listen,” I said. “Once we step through that door, you’re my escorting guard. If anyone stops us, say that Kyle ordered you to bring me to him.”
“…Understood.”
He didn’t look pleased with the plan, but he nodded. It was the best we could do.
When I opened the iron door, the screech of rusted hinges made my heart jump.
Even the smallest noise seemed deafening to a pair of fugitives.
We crept down the corridor, our steps soft against the stone floor. The prisoners were still asleep behind the bars on either side.
Only one guard had been patrolling the second floor. But on the third, not everyone was asleep.
A guard was stationed at the far end of the corridor, right by the stairs.
“Hey!”
He called out when he saw us.
We froze mid-step.
“Isn’t that the witch from the basement?”
The dim lanterns hanging on the walls barely lit the space, the yellow glow too weak to reveal Rihardt’s face under his cap.
I rattled my still-bound cuffs lightly, just for show.
“……”
Rihardt said nothing, only gave a curt nod, as if confirming the man’s suspicion.
But the guard didn’t stop there.
“Where are you taking her at this hour?”
This time, silence wouldn’t do.
Rihardt finally spoke, echoing what I’d told him earlier.
“The warden requested her.”
“Oh yeah? Figures. He’s been hovering over her nonstop. Pretends he isn’t, but I knew it’d come to this.”
“……”
“Always the quiet ones who are the worst,” the guard muttered, shaking his head as he unlocked the heavy door at the end of the hall himself.
The lock clicked open. The door swung aside, revealing the staircase to the upper floor.
We were so close.
Rihardt gripped my arm and started walking forward. My throat tightened.
But just as we were about to pass—
“…Wait.”
We both froze.
“Haven’t seen your face before,” the guard said, squinting. “Since when have you been working here at Fortress?”
“……”
Rihardt said nothing.
The guard frowned, suspicion flashing in his eyes.
“Who are you?”
“—!”
I knew we were caught. The guard must’ve sensed something off, because he lunged toward us.
His hand landed on Rihardt’s shoulder.
Rihardt struck—baton down, fist up.
“Ugh! You’re the traitor, Aberdeen—!”
Before the guard could finish, Rihardt’s blow knocked him unconscious.
But the scuffle had made too much noise.
Doors creaked. Murmurs stirred behind the walls.
“We have to go—now!” I hissed, pulling at Rihardt’s arm.
There was nowhere to hide. The third floor was where the guards lived; getting caught here would mean being surrounded like rats in a trap.
And the guard we’d left downstairs would be waking soon. Time was running out fast.
We dashed up the stone stairs, our hurried footsteps echoing through the prison until we burst onto the fourth floor.
Another iron door, another key. It opened, and we slipped into the silent corridor.
Finally, we reached Kyle’s chamber.
“Here! Wait here a moment—I’ll go in first.”
I quietly turned the doorknob and peeked inside.
It was dark and still. Apparently, the commotion below hadn’t reached him.
I stepped onto the thick carpet, which muffled my footsteps.
But halfway across the room, a wooden board creaked underfoot. I froze.
When I lifted my head again—
Kyle was awake.
He was standing, eyes open, staring straight at me.
