The cell trembled the moment the explosion ripped through the lower halls, dust drifted from the ceiling. Chains rattled.

He jolted upright, breath frantic, mind blank with terror.

Elias, however, didn’t so much as flinch.

His eyes narrowed, his posture sharpened.

A faint breeze circled around him—unnatural in a place sealed off from the world—a zephyr.

Before the boy could react, Elias stepped toward the iron gate, wind gathered around his arm with a low, dangerous hum.

CRACK!

The entire gate shattered into fragments of iron.

The boy stumbled back in shock, but Elias grabbed him by the hand, “Move,” he said, tone cold and calculated.

They rushed out. Elias scanned the dim hallway—every cell they passed stood open, bars bent or broken.

“As expected,” he muttered. “The others escaped first. We’re late—the chaos is already spreading above.”

The boy didn’t understand, but fear pushed his legs to follow.

They ran through the lower corridor.

Bodies were everywhere—prisoners, sentries, torn apart without pattern or mercy.

“The bloodshed is too brutal,” Elias murmured, voice low with controlled disgust. “Those monsters are killing anything they see.”

“W–What is happening?” the boy whispered, trembling. “Why are there so ma—”

Elias covered his mouth with a gloved hand and pulled him behind a cracked stone pillar.

“Quiet.”

A group of criminals walked the corridor ahead—laughing, taunting, dragging wounded men like toys. Their cruelty was casual, effortless.

The strongest among them—stepped forward, “Check every cell,” he ordered. “Leave nothing alive, not even a rat—and once done, report it to the boss.” Then walked away, leaving the rest in charge.

“Yes, sir,” the others replied.

The two criminals moved, unaware Elias watched from barely a few steps away.

A scream came from one of the cells, they swarmed inside and found a lone sentry shaking uncontrollably.

“Well, well,” one criminal chuckled. “Isn’t this the loudmouth who kept ordering us around?”

Another knelt, gripping the sentry’s hair.

“Choose. Live… or die?” His voice dripped amusement.

“I–I—What do you want?!” the sentry cried.

A sharp snap echoed. The sentry’s head fell limp.

“If you want to live,” the criminal hissed into the corpse’s ear, “You tell us where you hid it.”

“Ki… Kingdo—” He never finished.

His own fear overwhelmed him—and he detonated in a desperate overburst.

BOOM!!!

Fire, smoke, and bone dust erupted outward, filling the hall with choking debris.

“What a fool,” one criminal spat through the smoke.

“Kingdom…? We need to report to the boss upstairs.”

They turned—and froze.

A silhouette stood in the haze, two faintly glowing eyes stared at them.

“Who—who are you?!” one criminal stuttered.

Elias stepped out of the smoke, expression carved from stone.

“You were in the Eating Hall…,” the criminal muttered. “What do you want?”

Elias’s gaze was cold enough to silence breath, “I’ll ask once,” he said quietly. “What are your intentions?”

They tried to step past him.

Elias placed a hand on one man’s shoulder.

“Old man, you trying to die?” the criminal mocked.

Elias smirked—sharp, humorless, “Die?” His voice dropped to a whisper. “Do you even have the strength to kill me?”

They attacked first.

A blade slashed toward his throat—Elias leaned aside, effortless. 

A second enemy rushed him, but Elias vanished into the darkness.

They threw a smoke bomb, thinking to blind him.

Bad choice.

The air around Elias thickened—then burst outward.

A violent current swept through the corridor, shredding the smoke and slamming both criminals onto the stone floor.

He grabbed their heads and drove them down with a crack that echoed through the hall.

One fell unconscious instantly.

The other coughed blood, panicked, and swung again.

Elias caught the blade with his bare hand, steel screeched uselessly against his grip.

He leaned closer, eyes cold enough to freeze marrow, “I’ll repeat the question,” he said. “Your intentions.”

The criminal laughed despite the fear, “We’re looking… for something worth dying for.”

Elias stilled, “Something…?” His brows tightened.

“Yeah. That something is—”

Elias’ eyes widened slightly. Worry flickered behind the sharpness.

He knocked the man out instantly.

Then he turned, voice calm again, “You can come out now, kid.”

The boy stepped from hiding, shaking, “What were you talking about?” he asked.

Elias looked away.

“There’s something we need to prevent.”

They moved upward, the boy noticing Elias’s expression—not only focused, but troubled.

He could feel it too—that overwhelming presence from above.

The one Elias had been observing since the Eating Hall.

They found the stairway.

The upper floor was worse—far worse, corpses piled the halls, some sentries still convulsed as they died.

One man coughed. They rushed to him.

“What happened here?” Elias asked.

“Those men… that man… monsters…” the sentry rasped, “They started everything…” He died mid-sentence.

The boy looked at Elias.

Elias’s eyes were calm—but something simmered beneath the stillness.

“Let’s go,” he said.

They pressed on, corridor after corridor until they reached the main hall.

Chaos greeted them.

The criminals had gathered there—famous monsters from whispered stories.

Dozens of prisoners joined their ranks, sentries hung as hostages, blood painted the stone.

Elias surveyed everything in seconds.

“Kid,” he whispered, voice low and sure. “I’ll buy you time. When I move, you run. Don’t stop until you see open air.”

The boy swallowed hard—then nodded.

Elias placed a hand on his head, the slightest warmth cutting through the cold.

“Don’t fear,” he murmured. “I’ll keep my word.”

Then he stepped forward.

“GO!”

The boy ran as the criminals charged.

“Boss!” one criminal yelled toward the center. “I’ll get the kid. He won’t make it far.”

A deep exhale came from the shadows—the aura Elias had chased for months.

Meanwhile Elias taunted lightly, voice razor-sharp, “If you’re so eager for death… try me instead.”

A crushing pressure filled the hall—and the clash truly began.