The Mad Hatter's green eyes glowed with an eerie light. True to his name—or was it a title?—there was noticeable mania in the spiral pattern in his irises, further accentuating the half-crazy, half-mad air that the man carried with a casual air.
"Hello, Aries. How are you?" Grating, sickening, disconcerting—that was the emotions invoked by the Hatter's voice.
It was as if he was chaos incarnate. With just a few words, Lieren found himself confused and maddened, his thoughts a whirlpool amidst his paralysis.
And then, without another thought, he found himself in the same familiar abyss.
From behind him, a seated figure suddenly said, its voice calm and even:
"Don't trust a thing that man says. He's dangerous." King said neutrally, as if he truly cannot care about what will happen next.
'Curious.'
Lieren whipped his head around and gave the seated, purple-eyed man a skeptical glance.
"What are you talking about?"
Sighing, King put down his book, but he didn't look back. He didn't like doing that. Instead, he said to the empty void:
"That man… the Hatter, as you call him, is a very powerful Accomplice. But you already know that. So, thing you need to remember is not his classification, but his level. At your current stage, not even your Magic Resistance can resist his spells."
Lieren smirked, feeling triumph.
"And when he does, you'll lose your vessel, huh? So even you get scared. I'm baffled."
For an infinitesimal moment, he almost saw a frown appear on Kings face, but it was gone. The next second, he was already back to reading his book, looking down to read the pages.
The boy scoffed, feeling a warm sense of elation overcome him for what felt like forever.
Noticing that King seemingly had nothing more to say, he sighed, looked around the abyss, and sighed, taking a few steps backwards and laying flat on his stomach, then simulated sleep. For once, the pain and dread he constantly felt were nothing more than a fleeting thought as he drifted off to the land of dreams.
…Lieren awoke like usual; a deep-rooted pain frying his brain and fighting against his lucidity, his primal desire to be awoken. But he didn't let it. Instead, calming his nerves down by taking shaky breaths, he forced himself awake and muttered:
"I'm up, Umbra."
For a moment, there was utter, horrifying silence, as if…
'Don't tell me… No, it couldn't be…!'
"Hey, are you—"
"Yeah, yeah; I'm here. Don't worry. I was just a little tired, so I took a little catnap, is all. Nothing serious."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Lieren got up… from his straw-covered cot hanging by the stone walls.
"My shackles are gone. Why did they not put them back?" He unconsciously muttered, looking down at his maimed wrists and opening and closing his hands.
Though they still looked ruined, most of the bleeding was already long gone. It still hurt like hell, though.
From the neighboring cell, a familiar voice resounded:
"It's because I broke the mana-draining shackles. That kinda stuff isn't cheap or readily available in the market; both official and illegal. I doubt they have that many of them in the first place. The guards probably gave up, or is just finding a new one to replace the one I broke using my shadows."
Lieren lingered for a moment.
"I see, that makes sense. But what happens if the find another enchanted pair of shackle, what then?"
"Then we both die and rot in this place. That's why we have to leave before that happens.
"You should have recovered some of your mana by now. I need you to do something for me."
"…What's that?" Lieren sat on the edge of the hanging cot, his elbows place atop his knees, his eyes closed and his mind focused only on the voice.
His heart seemed to beat slower as the cold slowly seeped in, his bare and scorched skin and flesh vulnerable to the natural elements.
"I need you to mess with your cell door's enchantment. Don't worry, I'll guide you through it. I may not be the most knowledgeable when it comes to this stuff, but I do have the basic know-hows…"
She paused after her voice trailed off, and Lieren could subtly hear heavy breathing coming from the neighboring cell.
"Are you okay? You don't have to push yourself."
"I'm fine!" Umbra barked back, offended and indignant.
It would seem that she didn't like being belittled or treated like a weak person.
"…Sorry," she hesitated. "I'm just a little exhausted.
"Anyways, your cell bar's enchantments. The Hatter spent the majority of what I know of his life underground, where the rest of the dark side of society presides. His connections to official channels are sparse, meaning that he can't employ and Artificer with too great a skill.
"Because of that, your cell bar's enchantments should be on the crude side; certainly not the best, but not the worst, either. Even you should be able to tamper with its make."
A seed of doubt grew in Lieren's heart.
"Are you sure?"
…Only to be crushed by Umbra's next words:
"Positive. I believe in your abilities."
A warm smile lit up his face.
"Thanks, that means a lot. I'll do my best."
"Don't worry about it," she, too, sounded like she had a smile on her face.
Though, that could just be his imagination.
Shaking his head, Lieren peeked out the side of the corridor, lamented at presence of the impenetrable darkness, and ignited Manavision.
Since passing out from the horrifying pain, he had recovered his mana by some mild increments.
Looking at the "enchanted" cell bars, he found nothing amiss. The steel bars were the same: cold and lifeless.
Lieren knotted his brows together, perplexed.
"Are you using Manavision? If you are, then I suggest you Augment your mana sensitivity. Especially in your eyes. It'll help you see the matrix of the enchantment.
"Though, it might take you a while. We have about a day until they replace your shackles. That should give you some time to acclimate."
"Got it," Lieren simply acknowledged.
Soon enough, he found himself taking his first step into the realm of artifice.
◇◆◇◆◇
As the sun peeked from the east, warm rays illuminated the rural slums of New Mireton. Even in all of Harita's experience as a Paladin and a wanderer, he has never seen such a dark and turbid place.
Looking back, he saw four Squires and one Knight, the lowest and second-lowest positions in the Knight's Order. There was also one Adorned and two Mages from the Council of Manas. Beside him wwa the lustrous woman: Bian.
In the end, these were the only people he managed to recruit after further negotiations with the Council and Order.
'Damn charlatans. Do they not know danger unless it hit them in the face?' He silently lampooned.
Harita could have sought out help from the Guild or city guards sent by the royal family, but by the time they arrived, the boy could have already long perished.
That, above all, was the worst outcome that could possibly happen.
As a warm morning wind rippled in the air, he couldn't help but turn around suddenly, looking back at the turbid slums, wishing that he wasn't here. Right here, in this forsaken corner of New Mireton, was the most corrupted, lost, and ill-fated persons that could exist in the city. That much he was certain about.
And, what's even worse, was that his master—the one person he had made and Oath to, was located somewhere in this place. Cold, alone, and surely confused.
One of the Squires spoke up.
"Ugh, do we really have to go here, Sir Paladin? I know you have an Oath with a kid and all, but other than your 'connection' we have next to no evidence that the kid's even here. Let alone a map."
Then, a young Adorned, confused and baffled even standing close to the slums, echoed:
"I hate to say it, but the Squire's got a point here. Yes, we have a guide. But she's allied with one the main families controli—tasked with managing the city. N—no offense, but can we even trust her?"
Bian glared at the young Adorned, her eyes narrowing into slits. "Do you doubt my abilities, child?"
Intervening with a casual, friendly smile, Harita tried to deescalate the suddenly tense situation.
"Now, now. There's no need for doubt." He put a hand on her shoulder. "I've personally worked with this lady. Her skill is the real deal, no need to worry."
After he made sure that the two mages settled their issues with a respective nod, Harita looked back at the slums and closed his eyes, feeling for the illusory chains connecting his soul to his master's.
Clang! The soulsteel chains resounded in his head in a clangor, sending light tremors to his spirit in ripples. After a second or two, opened his eyes to the same scene with a grimace.
'He's injured and in a critical state. Bastards. Just what do those so-called "masters" think they're making him do?'
With a deep sigh, Harita took a step forward, his expression cold and lifeless, as if it was ice.
"Come on, let's get a move on." His casual tone was gone.
The Mages and Knight nodded, followed shortly by the Adorned and Squires.
In paper, their mission wasn't actually to save the boy. Rather, it was the rescue of someone else—another child, a terrible child. A noble's child.
A young noble by the name of Horis Han Li.
◇◆◇◆◇
Damp walls, humid atmosphere, and the almost-palatable taste of the rancid odor accumulated through years and years of blood, sweat, and grime assailed Lieren's senses the moment he got up from his ramshackle cot, awoken by the loud clanging that his new, extremely repugnant residence's iron bars had.
"Ugh, it's too early for this."
Not that he could knew the time, of course. Other than his ruined internal clock, Lieren had close to no way of knowing the current time or date.
Groaning, he sat on the ramshackle cottage, blinking in and out of unconsciousness while scratching his belly.
…And so did his roommate. By this time, Umbra surely would have awoken as well.
Suppressing a yawn, he regarded the chained-up bare skeleton with its hands cuffed and draped on the grim walls of the dungeon he had considered his home for a while now.
"What do you think we're having for dinner, bud? I just hope it's something, I don't know, nutritious? Something on the lines of that, I guess."
Though he knew it was a long way off, he still expected every single morning meal to be at least a little better than the last, even if only by the smallest margin.
Slowly but surely, the madness was beginning to seep in. To stabilize, while Lieren was practicing how to mess with the enchanted bars, he deliberately imagined various wondrous scenes, wandering through wonderland like a certain lost girl.
Stretching his arms and legs to shake off yesterday's pain, Lieren finally got up from his cot and took a deep breath, only to immediately regret it a second later. The remaining pain was simply to much to shrug off this time.
"…Oh, right. I almost forgot."
And that's when it hit him.
Reaching for the inner bars, he made sure that his hands were just a few centimeters from touching it, and closed his eyes.
'Just like I practiced.'
Right here, right now; he's finally going to do it. After days of imprisonment in this accursed place, he was going to do what he wanted the most…
Revenge. For all the times he had been put through agonizing torture and immolating pain.
Hearing the familiar footsteps of his captor, Lieren hurried with the modifications… and backed away when the man was mere seconds away from catching him.
The element of surprise was key here.
If he wanted things to go well, he would need it very much.
Not bothering to wipe the sweat off his face, Lieren relaxed his body and looked down, making himself look as pathetic as possible. Which wasn't hard, considering his physique…
Is what one would suspect. But, actually, it was the opposite.
And then, he arrived.
The air was drowning in the chaos the man exuded just by simply breathing.
With his green top hat with a yellow lace, the ace of hearts slipped in between it snugly, and his iconic — but mostly dreadful — lime coat, the man was almost comparable to the illustrious noblemen that Lieren had been unfortunate enough to meet… if you ignored all the wear and tear he boastfully paraded around; then yeah, the man looked pretty darn noble.
He flashed a toothy grin as he spoke, his eyes completely empty:
"I see. Brad's finally broken you, eh? Good, good. That makes things a whole of a lot easier."
The Mad Hatter stepped forward, his toothy grin visible even with the surrounding darkness. With a confident smile, he reached for the bars… and immediately reeled back.
'…Brad? I feel like I've heard that name somewhere before.'
Lieren laughed mockingly.
"Hah! Serves you right. Take that, you idiot!"
Now, it was his turn to give a toothy grin. He needed to attract as much of the Hatter's attention as he can.
The Mad Hatter rubbed his hand. Smoke was coming off of it.
A vein popped in the round man's forehead as he glared at the young boy, his eyes ablaze with mad, impulsive anger and fury. For some reason, that sight of him ignoring the pain and focusing instead on the person who afflicted it fitted him very much.
'What a weird guy.'
With a click of his tongue, Hatter turned and walked away. He made sure to give the boy a little retribution on the way.
"Oh, hey there. Have you come for little old me? You really shouldn't have. I don't want you getting tired, after all."
Feeling himself shrink in fear as the familiar large man, more than double his own paltry height opened the cell doors with lifeless eyes and bloodied knuckles, carrying a cart of horrific instruments with him.
Lieren sighed and looked down at his many, many wounds. Some have healed, most are fresh. In fact, from the outside, it looked like the boy had been ran over by a herd of Lying Bulls.
To be perfectly honest, he stopped caring about it after the first week—or what felt like it, anyways—and just focused on what he had to do: his mission and current goal.
As the gigantic man sauntered over with a new tool that Lieren had not seen before, he felt his heart sink and shrivel up, drying him of any semblance of emotion and sensation, keeping only his one goal in mind to keep him sane… well, what was left of it, anyways.
Voluntarily closing his eyes, he screamed for his life as the searing heat of the tall man's harrowing instrument burnt his skin and flesh.
Only one thought was in his mind:
'I need to save her.'
In his what felt like months of imprisonment, Lieren couldn't help but think about Alice Exousia and the reason why he was chosen to be her champion.