B2 Chapter 254: Confinement, pt. 1

Kaius’s vision fuzzed as he fell in and out of consciousness. He was being carried, slung roughly over someone’s shoulder.

Everything ached—the remnants of his Health were not enough to fully recover from the beatdown he had just suffered. It was only by the blaring insistence of his Glass Mind that he had the wherewithal to stay limp and silent.

No need to let his captors know he was awake, even if it was only barely.

Through half-lidded eyes, he watched black-booted feet stomp their way through the long grass of the frontier. The rogue, it had to be—his every step driving his shoulder uncomfortably into Kaius’s tender stomach.

Struggling against the weight of the poison that was steadily dragging him back into oblivion, he tried his best to see how far they’d walked. Grass meant they’d left the Bonefields.

Then the rogue stopped.

“Chuck them in the cart,” the voice of the stranger who’d arrived at the end of their battle said.

The rogue grunted. Kaius felt himself lifted off of the man’s shoulder before he was roughly tossed forwards.

Fogged as his mind was, he didn’t have to fight all that hard to suppress his instincts to catch himself. He landed on something warm and soft—Porkchop, judging by the blood soaked fur that pressed into the back of his neck.

Cracking a lidded eye, his assumption was confirmed, right as Ianmus’s limp body was tossed on top of him.

He just barely stifled a groan as the man’s dead weight pressed directly on a half-healed cut on his chest.

Gods, it was hard to think. Even knowing how vital it was that he learned of their destination, he was struggling to keep his eyes cracked.

“You sure you’ll be able to keep them contained? They’re tough as nails. I wouldn’t mind sitting around for a month or two to keep things settled.” the rogue asked.

Kaius almost thought he heard a little respect in the bastard’s voice.

The stranger barked a laugh. “I’m sure you’d love that. No, my containment measures will be more than enough—don’t you worry, no one’s ever escaped Yon’s pit.”

Brushing off the stranger’s words—there was always a first time for everything—he focused as much as he could on the fact that the rogue wouldn’t be guarding them. Even through the fog that clouded him, he knew that it was unlikely the man would have offered it if there were already guards of his own calibre.

That was…good. He thought it was good, at least.

Unable to fight against the poison any longer, Kaius fell back into unconsciousness.

….

Water dripped on Kaius’s face, lurching him back to the world of the waking.

Opening his eyes slowly, confusion rolled over him as he struggled to process where he was. Last thing he remembered, they’d been fighting some dog-like beasts in the Bonefields.

Then…there had been an ambush?

Ice shot down his spine, banishing the last of his fatigue as the memories of their defeat and capture washed over him.

Lurching to a seated position, he looked around.

He was in a cell—three walls, a ceiling, and a floor made of a uniform cobblestone. It wasn’t exactly watertight. Moisture seeped through the seams in the stone—feeding patches of mold and moss that had made their home in the room.

Barely eight strides wide, he’d been left with almost no room to move—even if he could lie flat on the cold ground, he didn’t have enough room to stretch out his arms.

Switching attention to his body, Kaius scowled as he realised that his captors had stripped him of everything. His armour, blade, and everything else was gone—replaced by a moldy roughspun burlap smok that left the thick black lines of his glyphs bare to the world.

No doubt they would have plenty of questions for him about those.

Thankfully, he could feel his blade—his bond to his weapon yanking his attention far off to his left. Most likely they’d left it in a store room, or some kind of vault. Getting access would be vital to their escape.

With the communication medallion being destroyed before he could use it, it would be up to them to escape.

Holding his hand to his face to trace the lines of the sigil that was emblazoned on the palm of his swordhand, Kaius realised with a start that his captors had missed something.

A ring. The one that Rieker and Ro had gifted him that reinforced his mask. Kaius sighed in relief. The enchantment to redirect attention had held. That, at least, was something—the less information his captors could glean, the better.

If they couldn’t get through his mask, they wouldn’t know their levels, and escape would be just that much easier.

Setting his hand down, Kaius took in the final wall of his cell. A door of wrought iron bars was set in its centre, leading to a similarly depressing stone hallway that was lit by surprisingly bright wardlights.

Unfortunately, the lights were a cold blue-white that left him feeling exposed and uncomfortable.

“A fine choice for a dungeon.” he thought to himself with a snort.

Kaius took a deep breath. The worst had come to pass—they’d been captured, with no immediate way to escape. He knew what would come next.

Torture. Then a mindmage, when they realised they wouldn’t be able to get anything from him.

Surprisingly, the thought didn’t strike terror. Deep down, he’d expected this would happen at some point, and now that it had, he wasn’t about to sit around shaking in his boots. The only thing fear would do was dull his mind. If he wanted out, he needed his full faculties.

He knew he wouldn’t break—what he had gone through to earn his resistance skills as a child of fifteen would make any hardened torturer blanch. Pain, poison, fire, and void—each had been an ordeal that had almost broken him, made more brutal by the fact Father had used it as an opportunity to harden him for this very eventuality.

Even Ianmus had been through anti-interrogation training before he’d been deemed worthy of learning the legacy skills of his college.

A mindmage though…they wouldn’t have much defence against that. He’d give it a month, maybe two before they settled on that option—blackmarket mind crackers didn’t exactly strike him as cheap, especially not if they had to be trusted to keep legacy skills to themselves.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

Even with a time limit, he couldn’t exactly jump straight to escape—they would have to plan. Learn about their captors and where they were being held in any way they could, while they waited for complacency and routine to give them an opening.

Steeling himself for the hard days to come, Kaius dropped into his soulspace. He needed to check if his resources were still constrained.

In the burning light of his soul, he saw that they were. The once gaseous clouds of his Mana and Stamina were locked down tight, contained in their pools.

His glyphs though? They might not be.

Sweeping his attention to the tightly wound magic constructs that he had imbued into his flesh, Kaius let a wild grin spread across his face as he found tightly packed bundles of mana waiting for his command.

He might not be able to inscribe more, but he had what was left. Seven casts of Hateful Nail, four of Stormlash, six of Yellia’s Slip Step, and three of Trussant’s Expedient Shunt.

Every single one was precious, and he’d have to hoard them carefully for their escape.