Chapter 236 - Wise Imprisonment Life (7)

[The Persona is calling you.]

Is this the first time since I was dragged to Kargasthol?

Now that I think about it, just before I was captured by Godric, it seemed like the Apostle had tried to resist. My memory is a bit hazy due to the lack of proper oxygen at the time…

The Apostle was always the persona fighting against Sub-writer 1.

It was the Apostle who broke the brainwashing on Ferdinand in El Dante, who called forth the to protect the Ertinez family, and who actively intervened whenever there was a connection to Godric. It was always that one.

Was it because Godric was the one directly opposing the stage?

The messenger window of the calling me fluttered like a firefly, flying down the corridor and disappearing as if beckoning me to follow.

"U-Um, I'd like to check over there."

Orlie seemed to be gauging something for a moment before nodding willingly.

"As of now, there are no issues with maintaining the body. It's not the most durable physique, but I will assist as much as I can."

Orlie said, swinging the arm of the donut-headed attendant dramatically.

He seemed like he wanted to say something along the lines of "If something happens, don't get hurt unnecessarily, and let's escape together." It wouldn't be right to leave a mark on the borrowed body.

I simply smiled gently and said we should be as careful as possible.

In the meantime, the messenger window of the that had flown off in the distance flickered as if asking why I wasn't coming. And so, we continued deeper into the underground prison.

Following the faint light in the darkness felt almost like chasing the glow of a deep-sea creature.

'The Apostle wouldn't betray me, though…'

However, when I turned the corner, what I saw before me was nothing but a solid brick wall.

I slowly turned my head to gaze at the messenger window.

'Betrayal…?'

Perhaps it had sensed my suspicion, as the messenger window hopped up and down in a manner that seemed to protest, as though saying, "How dare you doubt me?" Maybe I had teased it too much.

But there really was nothing here.

At that moment, the words that had been written in the messenger window scattered like grains of sand and flowed into the gaps of the bricks.

'What's this?'

The moment I tapped the spot where the had disappeared, Orlie lifted his head.

"It's hollow inside."

"Pardon?"

"It echoes."

Though I couldn't be sure due to the borrowed body of the donut-headed attendant, he said there seemed to be a space beyond the wall. He pressed his ear to it, knocked a few more times, then nodded.

"It's not just a simple cavity, but a rather large passage."

"A passage? Why would there be something like that in the castle's underground…?"

"I'm sorry. I joined later to assist with Godric, so I'm not well-versed in the main plot of this stage…"

In both Sinistra and El Dante, there had always been underground spaces. Places to hide, evade, and escape. It wasn't unusual for a fortress to have a final escape route hidden within.

But a gigantic passage right next to the underground prison?

Isn't that strange? It's not like it's encouraging prisoners to escape.

'I've been uneasy about this since earlier.'

I looked over the underground prison once again. A massive cell, large enough to cram full of people, and the strange passage pressed right up against it.

And then—

"This side is closer to the Vernis Mountains, right?"

"Pardon? Ah, yes, that's correct."

The scattered clues that had floated vaguely in my mind were beginning to gather and take shape.

The begins with a rampage of monsters.

A horde of beasts, seemingly driven by terror, comes storming down—and it is through Leovald, who was a mercenary at the time and stood against them, that the protagonist of the story is introduced.

Now that he knows these monsters were born from the poison of the Evil Dragon, he understands what that anomaly was foreshadowing.

From the very beginning of this fictional world, there had been signs: signs that the Evil Dragon, sealed away for centuries, was beginning to awaken. That was part of the setting—baked into the background of this stage.

But after Godric's invasion, all disturbances related to the Evil Dragon had faded into the background. Even the monsters had gone quiet.

Was it because the catastrophe had replaced the trials? Or had the main author postponed the resurrection to deal with the sudden chaos?

Is that even something they could do?

Even if there was an invasion in the middle, how could the evil dragon—who had already shown signs of resurrection from the very beginning of the play—suddenly end up shoved into a warehouse, gathering dust like some abandoned object? It's like a rolling stone suddenly coming to a halt on its own.

'How did the evil dragon come back to life in the first place?'

Was it that the seal weakened over time… or that the time for awakening had simply come?

But if there were such a backstory in place, wouldn't that make Godric's efforts to resurrect it by feeding it sacrifices completely unnecessary? If the dragon was destined to resurrect on its own when the time came, there'd be no need for all that effort.

Its very existence alone would already pose a significant threat to Leonardo as a rival. And once it resurrected on its own, it could've simply been subjugated.

And this is where my hypothesis begins:

'What if the evil dragon's resurrection wasn't inevitable?'

What if the resurrection of the evil dragon—originally the main event in the original story—wasn't something bound to happen, but rather the result of someone's deliberate actions?

I turn to Orlie.

"You might not know much about the original story or the stage itself, but you do know about the body that Godric took over, right?"

The body of King Godric, that is.

At that, Orlie nodded.

"He managed to obtain a fitting body. Their temperaments are similar, so the adaptation must've been easy."

"King Godric gives off the impression of a gentle and benevolent young king to the public, doesn't he?"

"There's no rule that says a tyrant must always be violent."

Right, that's true.

It's the beasts who know how to hide their claws that you really have to watch out for.

The moment my hand touched the farthest wall of the prison, I felt a faint current running through my palm—like a weak electric shock—and then, letters began to appear before my eyes.

[Unique Ability, <■■> begins to recount an old story…]

The status window flickered, unstable, as if the connection was poor. But it was enough to understand.

Take 1. Underground prison beneath the Kargasthol royal castle (Night / Inside).

Dozens of impoverished people walk down a dark corridor.

Vagrant 1: "Is His Majesty really going to give us a place to stay?"

Vagrant 2: (looking around) "How are we supposed to live here? It's freezing. Feels like a snowy mountain in winter."

A royal guard interrupts their conversation.

Guard 1: "Move it! Quickly!"

Take 2. Audience chamber of Kargasthol royal castle (Night/Inside).

Count Bermont: "Lately, with monsters running wild, there's been much chatter among the provincial nobles."

King Godric: "How unfortunate. Is it a shortage of troops? What happened to all their private soldiers?"

Count Bermont: "Yes, they're whining that all their young men were slaughtered."

King Godric: "How pitiful."

Count Bermont: "But here in the capital, the people sing Your Majesty's praises. The poor have vanished, and even the children in the marketplace know that a golden age has arrived under your reign."

King Godric smiles in silence.

That was all I could gather from the broken, fragmented text. But wasn't it enough?

'So in the original work, the one who resurrected the evil dragon… was the original Godric.'

Thud. I slam my fist into the wall again.

Now everything made sense.

How was Godric able to move so freely between this eerie Kargasthol and the Vernis Mountains?

'Feels like some kind of human sacrifice ritual.'

It was as if he had rounded up everyone and brought them underground to the royal castle—offered them up to the evil dragon Vernis.

If that's the case, then there must be a passage he used to move unseen by others. Something hidden. Likely underground. And nearby.

"Sir Orlie, if we manage to get out of this prison, how much strength could you muster?"

"My movements may be a bit stiff, but I don't believe I've weakened significantly."

"In that case, think you could break through a wall like this?"

I gave a light knock on the dead-end wall with a grin. Orlie nodded, seemingly understanding my intent.

Now, just one step remains.

'Time to escape.'

***

The King made his way to the private bedchamber of the detached palace.

As he softly unlocked and opened the door, a sheer canopy came into view, draping down from above—and beyond it, a curled-up figure lying in bed.

Crossing the room slowly, he spoke in a calm voice.

"I'm sorry. There was so much to do, I ended up running late. Just came to check in… How are you feeling?"

The figure lying on the bed remained curled up, still silent. It was nice, in a way, to see them so obedient and limp, but if that pale, lifeless face stayed like that all the time, it really ruined the appeal, didn't it?

He moved in closer to the figure on the bed.

There weren't many things that could bring life back to that face.

Even in the dead of night, they would call out—"Leo, Leo" — constantly searching for that guy. What was so special about him?

"I'll be showing you a familiar face soon."

His whisper fell softly, gently. But even now, the figure on the bed didn't move an inch.

"…"

The expression vanished cleanly from the King's face, and with a rough hand, he swept the canopy aside. On the bed was nothing but a round, curled-up blanket. No trace of warmth, no lingering presence of a person.

He ran his hand over the place where the shackles had once been secured. Nothing remained.

"What was so unbearable that you had to run away…?"

Darkness had settled over the room. Judging by the chill in the air, it had been quite some time since they fled.

They had been acting so obediently—he thought their spirit had been broken. But no, this had been the plan from the start.

Godric stood still for a while before finally taking a step forward.

Cats always know how to find the smallest cracks to hide in. It wasn't hard to guess where they might have gone.

"If I bring you back this time… I'll have to put a collar on you."

***

The underground passage was damp and dark. But there was no chance of getting lost—it was a long corridor that only required moving forward.

The farther we went, the more the cold of the snow-covered mountains began to seep in.

A messenger window appeared in my vision. It seemed we had officially crossed out of Kargasthol territory.

[Sub-writer 1: You're not supposed to sneak out without saying anything, you know.]

If I weren't so out of breath from running, I would've snapped right back at them.

'Screw you.'