Baron Alistair Mortimer sat in his private chamber, his face twisted with fury. The shame of the earlier encounter with the fake Darian still burned in his mind, his hands gripping the edges of his desk so tightly that his knuckles turned white.
His pride, his reputation, had been tarnished by some wretched imposter. He could still hear the laughter of his guards, though now it seemed to echo in his head like a mocking taunt. He would not stand for it.
"Find that impostor!" Mortimer snarled, his voice venomous. "Search every inch of the castle! He'll pay for this insult with his life!"
The command was given, and his soldiers scurried out of the room like rats, eager to avoid their master's wrath. Mortimer's breathing was labored, his eyes burning with a barely contained rage.
His thoughts raced—who was this intruder, and what did he truly want? He couldn't believe this was just about humiliation.
Just then, the door to his chamber burst open, and a guard stumbled inside, bloodied and gasping for breath. Mortimer's eyes narrowed dangerously at the sight of the disheveled man.
"Baron! There's—" the guard struggled to speak, his chest heaving with each breath. "There's a prison break! Someone... they killed the guards and opened the cells! The prisoners... they're rioting!"
Mortimer's heart stopped for a brief moment. His pale face drained of what little color remained. The prison below his castle was not just any holding cell.
Among the captives were individuals who, if released, could bring ruin to everything he had built. His worst fears were materializing before his eyes.
"Those prisoners... If they escape..." Mortimer's voice trembled with the gravity of the situation. He now realized the fake Darian's true objective.
It wasn't just to humiliate him or cause chaos—it was to free someone. His thought turned back to one of the prisoners he had he had agreed to held captive on behalf of a Count. He turned pale, if that prisoner escapes he would be destroyed along with all his family.
His mind raced, piecing together the puzzle. Whoever the fake Darian was, he must have known about the prisoners—specifically about that prisoner. Anger surged within him, overpowering his earlier shock. The baron turned to the guard, his voice cold and commanding.
"Summon the army! We can no longer rely on the castle guards; they've proven useless!" Mortimer barked. "Block every exit, every door, every tunnel! No one leaves this castle without my permission!"
The guard nodded frantically and bolted from the room. Mortimer clenched his fists, fury clouding his judgment.
The situation was so coincidental that Baron did not even doubt someone from Everhart family was involved. As their family didn't have resource to have a person with the fake Darian's level of competence.
His focus was so consumed by the chaos within his walls that he had completely lost track of Eve and Rosalyn. Right now, it didn't matter. What mattered was crushing the uprising before it could destroy him.
Meanwhile, in the depths of the castle, Adrian moved with precision and efficiency. His senses were heightened, his every movement deliberate.
With each step, he encountered more guards, but they were no match for his speed and lethal skill. His Shadow Vein Step allowed him to blink through the darkness, dispatching his enemies before they even knew he was there.
As he advanced through the castle, Adrian spotted a large stone pillar supporting part of the structure. Smirking to himself, he knew what he had to do. Channeling his mana, he unleashed a powerful Dragon's Fang Strike directly into the base of the pillar.
The force of the strike reverberated through the stone, sending cracks spider-webbing up the structure.
With a deafening crash, the pillar crumbled, causing the surrounding walls to tremble and collapse in a cascade of rubble.
The destruction echoed throughout the castle, further adding to the chaos. The guards who witnessed it looked on in horror as the very foundations of their stronghold seemed to crumble around them.
Adrian didn't waste a moment. He continued his path, cutting down anyone who stood in his way. His goal was clear—reach the outside of the castle and rendezvous with Sophia, Eve, and Rosalyn.
Meanwhile, in the prison, the rioters surged from the lower levels, a wave of fury and desperation driving them forward.
They ascended the stairs, clashing with the remaining guards who had been dispatched to contain the uprising.
But the prisoners, now armed and dangerous, fought with a ferocity born of vengeance and fear. They knew that not everyone would escape, and none of them intended to be the ones that were the ones being left behind.
Among the chaos, a small group of prisoners broke away from the main mob. They moved with purpose, their actions more calculated than those of the mindless rioters. A black-haired girl and an older man in guard uniforms led the way, blending seamlessly into the confusion.
"Have you captured the aura of the one who freed us?" the black-haired girl asked the older man, her voice cold and precise.
"No, my lady," the older man replied with a respectful nod. "His aura is basically undetectable ."
"As expected of someone who could cause this much chaos alone, he probably had some measures." the girl said, her lips curling into a faint smile.
"Even if you have failed it does not matter, it wouldn't be hard to find him. He said his army would soon trample the baron, after all, he said it himself. Have our people investigate him. For now, we need to take care of that traitor in our family... and get rid of this cursed mana suppression cuff."
"Yes, my lady," the older man, who appeared to be a butler, replied. "We'll repay this favor once we're out of here. Let's lift the pressure from your father so that he can destroy that piece of filth."
With that, they continued their escape, navigating the chaos with practiced ease. The castle's confusion was their advantage, and they intended to use it to the fullest.