Chapter 29 – The Prison

What woke me was the distant, rhythmic tolling of church bells.

I opened my eyes and felt the cold, hard ground beneath me. It took nearly a full minute to slowly piece together what had happened.

Drugged. Kidnapped. The Church.

Wonderful.

On the bright side, the fact that I hadn’t woken up in a pitch-black void to face that unreliable Goddess again was proof enough that I wasn’t dead yet.

As I pushed myself up, I realized I was in an extremely cramped cell. The light filtering through the iron bars was just barely enough to make out the murky silhouettes of my surroundings.

The space was only about a meter and a half wide, containing nothing but a thin scattering of straw on the dirt floor—presumably a bed—and a wooden bucket in the corner that served as a chamber pot. The walls were constructed of packed earth and stone.

I attempted to stand, but something jerked my left leg back. I lost my balance and fell forward, my elbow slamming into the ground with agonizing force.

Looking down, I saw a metal shackle clamped around my ankle. A very short chain connected the cuff to the floor.

As if hearing my grunt of pain from the fall, someone from behind the wall to my right spoke up:

“A newcomer?”

It sounded like a young man. I searched for my voice while rubbing my throbbing elbow.

“Where is this place?”

The man didn’t give a direct answer, letting out only a long, weary sigh.

“I saw them carry you in… you’re just a kid. How pitiful.”

I crawled toward the bars to observe the area outside my cell.

This was a massive, circular prison complex, roughly twenty meters in diameter. Its most striking feature was the ceiling—it wasn’t sealed but opened directly to the sky, allowing a flood of natural sunlight. Because of this, the place wasn’t damp or musty, and there was no need for torches.

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A medieval prison with natural skylights? Quite a luxury.

“Hey kid, did fear turn you into an idiot?”

Likely noticing my prolonged silence, the person next door spoke up again.

I replied, “Ah, I was just so panicked that I hadn’t processed what happened yet.”

“…Your voice doesn’t sound like someone in a panic at all.”

“How long have you been here?” I asked.

“Aren’t you going to ask where ‘here’ is?”