The night before purification...
Gris pondered being alone in this world. Although he knew other people had also transmigrated here, it did not help for now.
He had yet to trust anyone in the Silverth mansion or elsewhere. He returned to his room to grasp the Soulshard Axe he kept well.
Memories of the raid flashed through his mind. Declan voiced his suspicions about Alberic giving him the cursed weapon.
"Well, there's nothing I can trust from either of them."
Gris's mind made up a plan. To execute it, others must not know his movements, but he had to go somewhere.
His head suddenly throbbed with pain as memories rushed. He looked at the red carpet covering an area on the floor.
"The memories are useful."
Gris removed the carpet and discovered wooden planks underneath the natural stone floor. When he lifted the wood, he saw a hole slightly larger than his body.
