Three years since I’ve rotted in that prison… for a crime I didn't commit. Finally, I was getting out of it that night.

  Dad, I was coming for you.

  ***

  Itsuki and his group soon reached the ground-floor of the dorms, where everybody was walking here and there to get to their rooms. The lanterns didn't light the place enough, and the four bent their heads down and silently mixed among them. They walked through the narrow corridor, inches from the other inmates, and kept their gaze straight at the foyer.

  A bunch of soldiers, muskets and swords in their hands, ran by them up the stairs. Haruto turned back to look at them. He whispered, “The word has spread around about our escape.”

  “Shit! We didn't think they’d react this quickly,” Kenji said.

  “What do we do now?” Souta asked the group.

  Nobody spoke for some time as they walked through hundreds of people at the foyer. Soon, they stepped out to the open grounds, joining the group that was getting ready for their shift. They stood in the queue and the guards asked for attendance before letting them hit the dungeons.

  “Let’s continue,” Itsuki finally told them. “No point wasting time by thinking about them. They might not even know where we’ve gone for now, y’know.”

  “Makes sense,” Kenji replied. “Alright then. This is where we part.”

  “Best of luck,” Haruto said as Kenji and Ren hastened away.

  “Good luck to ya guys too,” Kenji replied.

  Everything was still going according to the plan. The guards would not be able to begin their search for, like, ten-twenty minutes or so, probably. They’d need to get their sketches first and pass it onto every guard, which would take time. A fuck lot of time.

  Itsuki, Haruto, and Souta were gonna be safe. They’d be inside the dungeon, and then escape to C-section, where the armory is. But Ren and Kenji might be in danger. Shit, he should’ve alerted them.

  Too late, though. But Ren and Kenji were no kids, they’d probably figure it out themselves. Itsuki had to focus on his own task at hand for now.

  Itsuki walked to the guard. “Junji Eto,” he told him. The guard took some time to find his name on the papers, and then put a tick against the name. The other guard stared at him, but Itsuki didn't look back. He had to act normal, and make sure they didn't suspect that he’s lying.

  He walked past, his head lowered, and hurried toward the adit, where others were picking up their axes and getting to work. Haruto and Souta soon caught up to him.

  He looked over at Souta—he still had the bomb under his shirt, which the guards must have mistaken for a big belly. “Good that they let it through,” Itsuki whispered. “Not a lot of people are fat here.”

  “Newbies almost always are,” Haruto replied. “I told you they won’t notice a thing.”

  “Hmm.” The guards flaunted their chest, with their hands behind their butt, as they glared down at the guys coming behind them. Some even had their eyes on the ones who had picked up their axes and began working. The three of them quietly reached the others, where the axes were lying, and took one each. Haruto helped Souta handle his new weapon, since he had to make sure it didn't touch his belly.

  It could have been dangerous. And they wanted to take no chances.

  Itsuki walked inside the same dark adit that he’d appeared out of just some hours ago. The only difference was that it was in the middle of the night this time, and the lanterns were burning bright. The three stepped inside the dark tunnel.

  ***

  The crowd had thinned out a lot. Most of the prisoners were already by the mines, where they were supposed to be. The ground was almost empty.

  Ren and Kenji ran through the field, standing out like a sore thumb. That wasn't good for their mission, but whatever. The building was just a couple more meters ahead, behind the dorms.

  The two slowed down together. Ren hoped their plan would work as they approached the two guards that stood in front of the building, where Chief Admin resided. “We’re here on a request from the C-section Sub-Admin,” Ren said as he handed them a letter.

  The guards opened the letter and read it as Ren took out another letter and showed it to them. “We have to deliver this to the Chief Admin.”

  The other guard walked up to them and glanced over at the letter. He then looked at them suspiciously. His sharp gaze and lips hidden under his facial hair said it quite clearly—he didn't trust them.

  Ren maintained his poker-face. It was all about mind-games now—if they thought the two were suspicious, they were. No questions asked.

  The first one kept staring at the signature on the bottom of the note. “I have chosen these two to send over my message to the Chief Admin. Please let them through,” it said.

  He sighed. “Wait here,” he said, still glaring at the note as he walked inside, to the foyer, his boots clanking against the ground.

  The other one kept their eyes on the two, and they lowered their heads. “Why did he specifically choose you? And why would he choose two guys for an errand like this?” he asked them.

  “We don't know, Lord,” Kenji replied.

  The guard looked over to the lantern in his hand, and then someplace far away beside them. He contemplated for a moment.

  In the meantime, the first one walked out and handed the note back to Ren. “You both may go through. Chief Admin is on the third floor.”

  “Thank you, lord. Long live the King.”

  “Long live the King,” both the guards replied.

  They walked inside the building quietly and walked through the foyer, to the staircase beside. The lanterns there had been extinguished long ago and the building seemed empty.

  Their boots were too loud, and they had to slow themselves down and place their boots really softly to make sure they alerted nobody. They even controlled their breathing.

  Ren finally sighed in relief. “Good thing they didn't catch us.”

  “Yeah.”

  “They would be coming back for us here once they got to know that we’ve run away. They saw our faces and burned them in their memory—I could see that. We gotta be quick.”

  “The guards would take ten-fifteen minutes to circulate our sketches and get everyone to search for us. We have to light this place in six more minutes. It’s not gonna be tough.”

  “Y’are forgetting that we also need to escape from this place before the ten-minute mark now. It’d take us five-seven minutes to make a fire big enough that people notice.”

  Kenji gulped. “We can do it.”

  “We gotta find some weapons—just in case.”

  “Itsuki and Haruto are gonna get ‘em from the armo—”

  Ren jerked his arm and stopped. “They won’t be here to protect us, asshole. We gotta watch for ourselves now. Why won’t ya fucking understand?!”

  Kenji looked straight into his eye, thinking for himself for a moment. “Alright. Ya find weapons for us, and I go fire the admin room. Whaddya say?”

  Ren nodded. “Works.” He then spun to the door—probably to the second floor.

  “Your shirt.”

  “Oh yeah,” Ren quickly got it out and threw it at him as he banged the door open and dashed out.

  Kenji continued his way up the floors. “What if he’s just betrayed me?” Kenji whispered to himself.

  Kenji whispered way too loud. Whatever…

  ***

  Inside the dungeon, Itsuki walked past a turn and looked around. The path was filled with mana-gems shining brightly, embedded on the edges like stars in the sky. That meant no one had been there yet.

  They were on the right path. He stepped inside. Haruto and Souta were still following him.

  Their footsteps were too loud. They tried their best to lower the decibels, but they couldn't do it enough in an empty tunnel like this one.

  Itsuki treaded every inch carefully, his axe ready for any surprise attacks they might face. So was Haruto’s.

  They were probably safe inside, for now. Itsuki had thought the guards would’ve called everybody outside the mines by now. But slow communication was their major disadvantage.

  Itsuki soon noticed a big boulder at the left edge of the path. He sighed. So, nobody has noticed it yet.

  He jumped over the stones to the boulder and got to work to push it aside. Haruto soon joined in. Souta, by the meantime, had his eye around the path they’d come from to make sure nobody noticed them. He quickly took his shirt out of his pants and got the bomb out.

  Itsuki and Haruto were done. Itsuki then got inside the hole on the ground as Haruto helped Souta with the bomb.

  It was a really narrow passage, where only one thin guy could seep through at a moment. They wouldn’t be able to even turn back if they found somebody on the other end. Also, the walls of this narrow tunnel might choke them at any moment. Their rudimentary digging couldn't really be trusted, y’know.

  But it didn't matter now. Itsuki crawled through the dirt effortlessly, like he’d done so many times already. He made sure Haruto and Souta were just behind him. He stopped to let them catch up. Their pace was severely restricted because of the bomb.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  When he saw them coming up to him, he continued. As he pushed himself past the mud, his Dad’s face came to his mind.

  The man looked just like him—triangular face, sharp eyes, long hair, brown skin. But he had long facial hair, which Itsuki didn't.

  That guy had so much common with him, yet… he killed Mom. And he shattered his family to pieces.

  And he got him here. Three years of painful torture, bullying, being beaten and toyed around. And then, at the end of it all: death.

  This time, he was gonna escape the destiny his father had imposed upon him. This time, he’s gonna escape death. And find him.

  And kill him.

  And change this fucked up world.

  And it begins with his death.

  And it begins today.

  Itsuki saw the other opening. And luckily, he could see or hear nobody around it. He quickly climbed by the edges and threw himself out on the ground. He glanced around as he turned back to the hole and extended Haruto his hand, pulling himself up.

  Then both Haruto and he took Souta’s hand each and dragged him up, the bomb between his legs. Haruto picked up the bomb and kept it aside as Souta lay on the ground, panting.

  Itsuki stood up and rubbed dust off his shirt and pants. “Alright, we’re in the A-section now,” he whispered to them.

  “Where do we plant the bomb?” Souta asked him.

  Footsteps. Fuck, somebody was approaching them! Itsuki looked around for an axe or something. “Fuck, I left my axe back there!”

  “What the fuck, Itsuki?!” Haruto whispered back as he pulled his axe out from the back of his shirt and began acting like he was digging. Souta followed him.

  Itsuki turned to the corner. The guy was approaching, and judging from the boots of him, he might be one of the guards.

  … He couldn't get caught. That’d put the whole fucking plan in jeopardy. He had to think of something.

  The tunnel just had stones and mud and random shit like that. Nothing of substance.

  The guy was getting nearer. Itsuki paid no heed and just began digging with an invisible axe in his hands. As the guard came up the corner, his foot stopped for a moment to look at them.

  They didn't even dare look at the guard. They were busy hiding their faces under the shadows of the lantern.

  Seemed like it worked, for he simply continued his walk and went away. Still, they waited and continued for a couple more moments.

  Luckily, the footsteps simply faded away. No catch. Itsuki sighed. Haruto held his chest as he turned to him. “He was a mana user,” he whispered. “I saw a scabbard by his waist.”

  “I can use mana too,” Itsuki said. “And we had an axe, in which I could bind my aura and use it as a weapon.”

  “He even had muskets,” Haruto replied. “And our mana-shields still aren't strong enough for them.”

  “... Yeah, agreed.” It could have still been dangerous for them if it came to a fight. Itsuki and Haruto were still just intermediates, and Souta didn't even know how to land a punch.

  Souta whispered, “Guys, let’s be quick with this now.”

  “Y-Yeah, yeah,” Haruto replied. “Let’s go to the spot we’d made for the bomb this morning.”

  Itsuki took Souta’s axe so he could focus on the bomb in his shirt, and the three looked around and began walking deeper into the tunnel with caution. Itsuki was studying the walls—they had no mana-gems or coal in them. Probably that’s why nobody was there at the moment. This place was literally sucked out of its minerals.

  Their footsteps echoed, even though they tried their best to walk as softly as possible. The lanterns flickered as they walked past them, to a Y-intersection, and took a left.

  “How many levels deep are we?” Souta asked.

  “It’s A-level,” Itsuki whispered back. A-levels were dangerous.

  “Are we going to the S-levels?”

  “No,” he replied. “Mana radiation is too high there. You might start vomiting blood or shit like that.” S-level was really dangerous for average men like Souta, who’d never had any sort of mana manipulation training. He couldn't even feel his own mana right now.

  “Hmm,” Haruto agreed. “And we also have gunpowder in our hands—which can explode because of the radiation.”

  “Can it?” Itsuki asked. “I don't think it works that way.”

  “Apparently we don't know how Souta made it. It depends.”

  “... Probably.” Itsuki was still not sold, but this wasn't the time for random debates like this one anyway. They had to focus on the mission.

  They walked deeper and deeper and deeper. Luckily, they saw no one inside for now. It was just like how they’d planned it would be right when the shifts had just changed. It’d take some time for the new workers to come in this deep. Everything was going according to the plan.

  “... Who would believe that five seventeen-year-olds broke through the most scary prison-camp of the Dansamian Empire.”

  “Don't jinx it,” Itsuki told Haruto. “We still have a long way to go.”

  “Everything has been going right for now. I’m excited.”

  “You’re jinxing it so hard now,” Souta smiled.

  “Yeah, apparently. I’m sorry.”

  They found that little hole that they’d made this morning, at the edge of this path. Itsuki hurried up to it, crouched down, and felt the edges. “Nobody was there.”

  “Phew!” Haruto sighed.

  “Let’s be quick,” Itsuki told them as Haruto and Souta squatted around him and began placing the bomb. Itsuki, in the meantime, got up and began searching for the boulder they’d found. He noticed it, hurried toward it, and quickly brought it back. The two pulled their hands away as Itsuki placed the boulder above the bomb, leaving a little space along the hole’s edge for the cord-fuse.

  Souta opened the tied-up cord and placed it by the edge. It was a long rope, and he stood up to place it all the way to around a dozen steps in. He then looked at us. “Light it up.”

  Itsuki kept staring at him in disbelief. He… had not expected such a big cord. He looked over at Haruto, and neither had he.

  “Apparently, our plans are a little bit different, Souta.”

  “... What do you mean?”

  Itsuki asked, “Can you run?”

  “... Yep.”

  “How fast?”

  “Maybe as fast as you guys.”

  Itsuki nodded as he stood up, waved his axe in the air, and swung it straight down, cutting the cord short. He threw the rest toward Souta as he crouched down.

  ***

  Kenji dashed up the dark, empty staircase. He could finally see the door to the third floor as he panted hard through his nose. He couldn't even use his mouth to breathe, or else, somebody might catch him.

  He held the door and bent on his knees, catching his breath. “Huff, huff. Huff, huff. Alright,” he whispered to himself as he straightened his back. Fuck, he misjudged—he still wasn't ready. So he took some more time to calm his breathing down. He didn't even have a weapon. He’d be killed if somebody saw him there.

  His lungs calmed down. He pulled open the thick metal door and peeped out.

  The lamps flickered on the walls by the edge. The other edge housed doors to the rooms. Which one was Chief Admin’s…?

  He walked in, careful not to wake anybody up, and calmly observed one door after the other. There were six rooms on the floor total, and he had no clue which one he was supposed to burn.

  Fuck! A big part of this mission lay on his shoulders. If he burnt the wrong flat, the soldiers would be a lot quicker to react when the blast takes place. He sighed.

  Alright, he could do this. He’d to calm the fuck down.

  He chose the second-last door by the edge of the corridor—the room right in front of the staircase—and threw Ren’s shirt in front of it. If he burnt that place, the connection between the Chief and other soldiers would be cut, since the staircase would be compromised. Yeah, that should fucking work.

  He bent down and pinched his fingers. He closed his eyes to concentrate all his mana on those fingers, and flicked up a fire in his fingertips.

  “Soldiers! Go check the second and third floors! Me and my team are enough for this one!”

  “Aye!”

  Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! His fingertips began trembling. The door beside him was still open. He’d to close the door before they came in! C’mon, fire it up!

  It fucking did—a little flame of fire popped up on top of his fingers. He quickly used that to burn the cloth.

  The footsteps were quickly approaching him. He couldn't count how many there must have been, but there were a lot. He won't be able to fight ‘em alone. Kenji quickly got up and banged the door close. He then twisted its handle and locked it.

  Footsteps came up and tried to pull it open, but couldn't. Kenji had his eye fixed there as he took off his own shirt.

  “This corridor is locked! Chief never does that! I believe the fugitives are here!”

  The guys kept jerking the door. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! His arms and torso were trembling as he crouched just on the other side of the door, fanning the fire on Ren’s shirt. Fuck! He had nowhere to escape now!

  He stood up and took out the dry leaves that he’d been hiding in his pants’ pockets. He threw them in, and the fire got larger. Fuck yeah! He threw his own shirt in and blew air at it.

  Fuck. This had to work!

  “OPEN UP, FUGITIVES. AND WE MIGHT LET Y’ALL GO UNHARMED!”

  A complete fucking lie. He gulped in. Where the fuck was Ren?! Kenji could only hope that he’d come to save him from all this shit.

  … No, Ren isn’t strong enough. He wouldn’t be able to walk through a dozen soldiers to come save him. Ren would’ve abandoned him by now and escaped with others.

  This made his heart beat even faster. The lump on his throat filled up. He’d… He’d fucking told himself not to trust these assholes!

  He shouldn't have ever said yes to shit like this. It’d be all for nothin’. He’d soon die here, his body ripped apart and blood flowing all over the fucking place.

  He gulped in and controlled himself. No. Nobody had abandoned him for now. He was just scared, and that’s why he was thinking of shit like that.

  It’d be alright. Everything would be fucking alright.

  They kept beating the door. Some even slammed it with their weapons. “Bring a mana-manipulator!” someone shouted from the other side.

  … There were no mana-manipulators on-duty that day, right? What if… they did have some?

  The fire was increasing. Kenji looked here and there, and then quickly began banging on one of the doors. After a couple of punches, he panted, and then banged it again.

  The fire was increasing. Smoke was starting to fill up the corridor. He had trouble breathing. He needed air to keep the fire burning.

  A butler opened a door—white face and hair, black coatee and waistcoat over a white silk shirt. He noticed the fire and half-naked Kenji, and demanded, “Who are y—?”

  Kenji punched him on the nose. The old man fell down. Kenji gulped, thinking about what he was gonna do for a moment.

  … He wasn't a fucking monster. He wasn't a fucking monster, he wasn't a fucking…

  He picked the man up and threw him on the fire.

  “ARRRRRRRRRR!” the old man shouted as he flung his arms right and left to pick himself up. Kenji kept kicking him down on the ground. He made sure this asshole wouldn't get up and make his way outta the fire.

  “What’s happening?!” the soldiers screamed. And then, it soon turned into a jumbled mess of shouts. The slams on the door got louder too.

  Kenji hurried inside the house. He observed the red carpet on the floor, along with all those wooden chairs and cupboards and… the couch at the center.

  It’d burn. All of it would burn. He was so fucking grateful for that.

  Smoke began filling up the drawing-room. He heard commotion at the bedrooms that he couldn't see—the drawing-room was huge. A woman was whispering to her husband or something, and from the other rooms, some servants were waking up too.

  Kenji began searching the place. He went through the cupboards and threw the books and photo-frames down, walked around the walls with portraits of men with puffed chests, upsetted fruits and stuff through the tables, and soon found a knife among them.

  The butler soon hit the edge of the door. The fire on his shoes and clothes lit up the carpet.

  … The flames were now coming at him.

  The doors behind him opened, and servants were shocked. They shouted, “Lord! Mistress!”

  The husband and wife quickly came out of their room. Their eyes widened as they met Kenji’s. Now he seriously didn't know what to do.

  He looked around at all the mess he’d created—the fire, the burning butler’s dead corpse, the family that stood frozen, and the servants who were coming for him.

  He had to make sure nobody messed with the fire. He had to fight.

  He tightened his grip on the knife and filled it up with his mana. The knife glowed purple as Kenji stabbed the first servant’s liver. He then quickly pulled it out and swung it at the other one, throwing out some mana with this one. The mana hit the guy some meters away from the knife and chopped his neck into two.

  … He’d never killed a man before.

  But, for some reason, it seemed normal for him to kill. Was it… because he was a cannibal?

  “He can use mana! Oh god, this man can use mana!” the wife shouted as she hid under her husband’s chest.

  He turned to them as other servants backed off. A fountain erupted out of the second one’s neck as he fell on the ground, dead.

  Kenji’s eyes met that of the husband’s, who was just as shit-scared as he was. “W-W-What do you want, kid?”

  “... Freedom.”