B2 Chapter 260: Escape, pt. 1

Tugging gently at the corpse of the jailor, Kaius grimaced.

Hateful Nail was not exactly the cleanest of spells, and rolling the body onto its back was enough to slop his mashed brains out of the cavernous holes in its head.

An ugly reality of a dark deed, the face was ruptured, flaccid features split and twisted—still held in the vaguest of mockeries of a person by barbs of wire that punctured and wove through the corpse’s flesh. If that wasn’t enough, the potent vibrations that were imbued in the spell by Resonance Amplification had down right liquified the soft meat inside.

It was a stark sight, one that forced him to confront the totality of what he had done. There was no guilt—no second guessing of his actions. Only a stifling sadness of what their actions had forced him to become, a sticky fatigue that massed in the pit of his stomach, sapping at his strength.

Yet the reality of the situation was that he had been forced to this point, and this would only be the first of many deaths before the day was done.

Deeper down, he knew it was more than stoic realism that hardened him to his deed. No matter how well he had weathered their attention, it was a simple truth that he had suffered.

As uncomfortable as it might have been, he recognised that a large part of him was looking forward to what was about to come. As black as it was, he needed to see it. The moment when they realised their mistake—that no one was coming to save them, and there was nothing standing between them and the anger he felt scouring his chest.

Stifling his divided feelings at so easily snuffing out a human life, Kaius turned his attention to the jailor’s belt.

Having watched the jailor for weeks now, he knew exactly where the man had kept his keys. A small drawstring pouch made of soft leather, just a slightly darker shade of brown than the ones around it.

Moving quickly, he pulled out what he needed. A thick iron key for the cells, and a square piece of flat stone, carved with an intricate array. It was perhaps even more important than the key itself, as without it any precaution that had been added into the formations of the cells would be activated as soon as they were opened.

If they were lucky? Just an alarm.

If they weren’t? Well, Kaius wouldn’t be surprised if a group that had been so willing to kidnap, torture, and eventually kill young delvers would have precautions to prevent their prisoners from ever being able to discuss their experiences in captivity.

With the keys in hand, Kaius rushed to the door of Ianmus’s cell. The mage looked…tired. As worn out, dirty, and hungry as he felt.

Those remnant effects of their time in the compound didn’t reach his eyes. Those blazed with indignation and determination. Whatever came next, Ianmus seemed to be ready for it.

“Nice work getting his attention,” Kaius said, giving Ianmus a grin. “I’m surprised you had it in you. I almost thought all that time in the academy had made you allergic to being rude, or something.”

Ianmus rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up. Even a priest would be a little biting after what we’ve been through.”

The mage leaned closer. “I hope this plan of yours is as good as you’ve made it sound,” he said seriously. “We’re only getting one shot at this.”

Kaius nodded. He knew that, but even if they had spent another two weeks before making their attempt, there would have been little more for him to learn. Sure, he would have been able to better confirm his understanding of their numbers and movements, but the benefit that would provide paled in comparison to the advantage of moving while their captors were occupied with defending from a surprise assault.

Holding the wardstone tight in his hand, he placed it over the nexus of the control formation for the cell, before he leaned back to crane his neck towards their latest ally.

“Kenva!” he called, causing the aen woman to jolt before she pressed herself up close to the door to meet his eyes.

“Yes?”

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at the walls—like you’ve been tracking something moving through them. Is anyone coming our way?”

Once he’d first noticed her doing it, it had been all too obvious. The way she would focus on a point beyond the stark stone of her cell, following it as it moved. Given that she’d mentioned she had a powerful ocular skill, Kaius was almost certain it at minimum gave her some way to see living beings through obstacles.

A strong testament to her legacy, considering even his own Truesight lacked anything resembling such an ability.

Kenva froze for a moment, before she turned to the wall behind her, roving across its surface. Facing him again, she shook her head emphatically.

They had time. Hopefully enough that he could improve their chances before he left.

“What are the limitations?” Kaius asked as focused back on Ianmus’s cell. He knew they had to exist—even if she somehow had a Heroic skill, the ability to see through obstacles was far too potent for the first tier otherwise.

“The radius isn’t the best—twenty long-strides, give or take. I’ll only be able to give us half a minute’s warning, maybe a bit longer if they’re in an adjacent hallway,” she replied, her voice ringing clear, true, and utterly absent of the uncertainty that had perfused her when they had first met.

Kaius nodded. It was more than enough time.

The door to Ianmus’s cell clanked open, and he pulled the mage into a tight hug, one Ianmus returned with a fervour.

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Pushing him back by his shoulders, Kaius met Ianmus’s eyes. “Let’s do this.”

He passed the mage the key and wardstone. “Free the others, Porkchop first. I need a few minutes to inscribe as much as possible—we’re going to need the firepower.”

Nodding in understanding, Ianmus snatched up the keys from his hand before he deftly leapt over the pool of blood that was spreading from the corpse at their feet and rushed to Porkchop’s cell.

Kaius met his brother’s eyes—seeing the hunger and unsatiated fury that roiled within him, spilling over their bond and inflaming his own burning need to bring revenge and ruin against those that had subjected them to the most basal of cruelties.

“Patience. I need you to guard the door while I work.”

His brother huffed—but violent desires or no, Porkchop was no slave to his impulses. “Of course—just be quick. There is more blood that needs to be spilled tonight.”