After Charles broke free from the Grand Vitalis Entity's control, Edward quickly searched the bodies of the lifeless guards on the floor until he found a set of keys. He grabbed them and rushed to Charles's cell.
The sound of unlocking echoed as the cell door swung open.
He hurried in to release the chains that bound Charles.
The young man's wrists bore red bruises from the shackles. The blood that had flowed from his eyes and nose was now drying on his face.
"Thank you," Charles said weakly.
"What happened?" Edward asked, using his power to read the young man's mind.
"An assassin attacked, and then..." Charles immediately rose to check on Joseph, who lay motionless.
Miranda, just emerging from the combat trance, turned her full attention to her brother's condition.
Her eyes widened in shock when she saw that the healing potion she had applied had no effect. Blood continued to flow from the wound without stopping. There wasn't even any blood clotting or scabbing.
"Why..." she muttered, her hands trembling as she touched her brother's wound. "Why isn't it working?"
Miranda's words prompted Edward to rush over. His face paled when he saw Joseph's condition. He quickly reached into his pocket, taking out another healing potion. His hands shook as he uncorked the bottle, pouring the golden-red liquid onto the knife wound.
But instead of stopping the blood flow as the potion should have, it merely mixed with fresh blood that continued to flow, showing no signs of healing.
"Something's wrong," Edward said, his voice trembling. "Something is preventing the healing."
Miranda bent down to look at Joseph, who lay on the floor breathing heavily. His face was deathly pale, cold sweat beading on his temples, his body trembling with weakness. The unceasing blood flow was causing his life to gradually fade.
Charles watched from the side, feeling hopelessness slowly creeping in. He could only watch his dear friend dying slowly, unable to help.
Joseph tried to say something, his lips quivering, but all that came out were broken breaths. The unending blood loss was weakening his body with each moment. He made an enormous effort to communicate, but his words caught in his throat. Everyone around him strained to listen, but no one understood what he was trying to say.
Joseph's gaze fixed on Edward. His trembling hand touched his uncle's arm, his eyes conveying the urgency of his message.
Edward sensed his need and used his mind-reading power on his nephew.
"Let Charles escape..." Edward relayed the message. "He can't stay in this kingdom anymore... he must flee now."
"No!" Charles immediately refused, his voice echoing in the cell. "We need to get you treated first. There's still time..."
"He says if you stay, not only will you be in danger, but his family will suffer too. Escape, and..."
"...avenge me."
Charles still hesitated, his eyes fixed on his friend's body lying in a pool of blood, but suddenly Edward rose abruptly, grabbing his shirt tightly. The grip trembled with mixed emotions.
"I know you have questions," Edward shouted, "but now is not the time to explain those schemes. So get out of here!"
The firm grip on his shirt conveyed the seriousness of the feeling. Charles clenched his fists, his eyes showing resolution. "I understand."
As Edward released his grip, Charles slowly stood up. The sound of blood dripping onto the floor was barely audible. Bloodstains covered his pants and the hands he used to support himself. Where Joseph lay was now a wide pool of blood, reflecting the lamplight.
Charles repeated, 'Avenge me,' Joseph's final words. Understanding their meaning, he hurried to retrieve the keys at the cell bars.
While Charles went for the keys, Joseph, lying on the floor, turned to look at Edward one last time, sending a message through his mind: "Uncle... please... return to the family."
Edward's pupils dilated, before Joseph turned to smile at his sister one final time. His lips moved to speak a farewell, but before he could utter a sound, his eyes began to glaze over, the flame of life extinguished.
Then a cry of grief echoed throughout the prison as Edward, the head of the Special Investigation Unit, shed tears for Joseph's passing.
Charles, who was searching the guard's body, paused at the sound of weeping. His searching hand froze as tears fell onto the cold prison floor. He knew his dear friend was gone. At that moment, his hand touched a short knife in the corpse's pocket.
Charles put on a thick cloak taken from a guard over his tattered prisoner's clothes. The smell of blood mixed with the damp mustiness of the underground prison assaulted his nose. He tucked the short knife at his waist, picked up the special potion formula book from the floor, and prepared to leave the room.
"Find that assassin and bring him back," Miranda said. "As for those behind this... we'll handle them ourselves."
"I know you have questions, but from now on, you'll be branded a criminal of the kingdom, a man who killed his own friend."
"I understand."
Before leaving, Charles turned to ask, "Where do the guards keep my belongings?"
"Forget that idea," Edward quickly replied. "The special unit's items can be traced by the Suppression Department. It's too risky."
"But I need the Soulstone I acquired to become stronger... for revenge."
Edward hesitated slightly before answering, "The evidence storage room is on the upper floor of the prison, in the east wing. Take the stairs at the end of the corridor, turn left on the second floor, third room from the stairs."
Charles nodded before quietly slipping out of the room as silently as possible.
The young man crept along the corridor, the lamplight casting long shadows on the stone floor. The damp smell of the prison and the blood on his clothes still lingered in his nostrils.
He heard the footsteps of guards from a distance and quickly hid in the shadow of a stone pillar, his heart pounding as two guards walked by, their conversation drifting to him.
"I heard they just caught a dangerous suspect in the west wing," one guard said.
"Yeah, I heard that too," the other replied. "They say it's some detective."
Charles waited until their footsteps faded before carefully emerging from his hiding place, heading toward the stairs leading to the upper floor. He saw the junction Edward had mentioned—the path to the evidence room was to the left.
Upon reaching the second floor, he pressed himself against the wall, carefully peering toward the third room. Two guards stood watch at the door. Charles was considering how to divert their attention.
His mind worked rapidly. He could now feel that the power he had gained was completely his, but his physical condition didn't allow for strenuous movement due to exhaustion from torture and resisting the Grand Vitalis Entity. He needed another approach.
He noticed an oil lamp hanging on the wall, and an idea formed.
"Hey!" he shouted loudly from the dark corner, imitating the voice of a guard he had heard before. "Prisoner escape! West wing!"
The two guards exchanged glances, hesitating momentarily.
Charles then grabbed the lamp and threw it at a pile of hay stacked against the wall—bedding for prisoners waiting to be replaced.
The oil from the lamp caused the hay to catch fire quickly. Thick smoke rose from the damp hay.
"Hurry!" Charles shouted again.
This time both guards rushed toward the voice.
"Fire!" one guard shouted, trying to kick apart the burning hay, but this only scattered it, spreading the fire to other nearby piles.
Charles didn't waste time. Using his power to make them distracted, he hurriedly limped to the evidence storage room, using the guard's keys to unlock the door.
His heart raced as he tried key after key until finally one fit the lock perfectly.
Inside the room were many shelves, each filled with cloth bags containing items confiscated from prisoners. Charles quickly searched for his own bag until he found it on the middle shelf.
He grabbed the bag and opened it. Everything was still there—the Soulstone, silver coins, and other personal items. Following Edward's warning, he took only the Soulstone and money.
Shouts and running footsteps came from outside. Smoke from the burning hay began drifting into the room. Though the walls were stone, the thick smoke made breathing and visibility difficult. Chaotic noise echoed throughout.
Charles quickly tucked the Soulstone into his cloak pocket before peering out to assess the situation. Smoke from the burning hay rose so high it nearly obscured the ceiling. Shouted commands came from several directions as guards rushed about, evacuating prisoners and trying to extinguish the fire.
"Bring water! Quickly!"
"Evacuate the prisoners through the main gate!"
Charles decided to seize this opportunity. He ran among the confused guards, trying to blend in, mimicking their movements and behavior.
"You, help carry the water buckets!" a voice shouted from behind.
When he reached the ground floor, he quickly separated from the evacuating prisoners. The smoke made visibility poor, but his eyes fixed on an iron grate covering a drain in the corner of the room, left open during the rush to bring in water to extinguish the fire.
'The sewer...' Charles thought. It was the only path that would allow him to leave the prison without being checked.
"Help over here! This way!" shouts came from the left.
He waited for a moment when everyone was busy fighting the fire, causing the guards in that area to be distracted, then quickly slipped toward the drain. A foul stench rose from the darkness below, but he had no choice. Charles hurriedly climbed down the stone steps.
In the sewer, it was so dark he could barely see, with only faint moonlight filtering through the iron grates. Putrid water flowed sluggishly at ankle level, and rats scurried about in abundance.