The lead beastman holding a rough, worn map of the royal prison approached Kent.
“Respected master,” he began, bowing his head briefly. “We’ve identified three potential entry points. One near the abandoned watchtower in the north, another by the west wall where the river bends, and a third that leads under the whitewood tree on the east side. It’s the least guarded section and closest to the prison cells.” His finger hovered over the map, tracing the routes with a practiced eye.
Kent studied the map carefully, eyes narrowing as he visualized the scene. “Excellent,” he said, nodding in approval. “But remember, we’re going to use only one. The whitewood tree is our main route. It’s far enough from prying eyes and easy to conceal. I want a tunnel dug from here,” he pointed at the tree, “straight to the base of the eastern prison wall.”
The beastman nodded, following Kent’s instructions with intense focus.
“Understood, master. But what of the other two entry points?” he asked, looking back at Kent for direction.
“Those will be decoys,” Kent explained. “Dig shallow tunnels at the watchtower and the riverbend. Make them look like real entryways, but leave them incomplete. This way, if we’re found, they’ll waste precious time on empty leads.”
Kent placed a hand on the beastman’s shoulder, his gaze sharp. “The whitewood tree trunk is massive, big enough to carve out a hidden entry. I want you to hollow out the base and dig the tunnel through its center. Make it silent and untraceable. Use illusionary spells to mask any sounds. You have three days to make it functional and foolproof.”
The beastman’s eyes widened with admiration at Kent’s foresight. “I swear, no one will find it, master. We will work day and night.”
As the beastmen departed to begin preparations, Chelli crossed her arms, giving Kent a sidelong glance. “Seems like you’ve thought of everything,” she said, her tone a mixture of skepticism and grudging respect.
Kent leaned over the table, rolling up the map and placing it in his storage ring with precision. “Why don’t you go out and I want to sleep alone,” he replied, his voice hard and unyielding.
She tilted her head, studying him intently. “I don’t see how you’re going to pull this off in five minutes, though. That’s barely enough time to break a few chains, let alone free a hundred prisoners.”
Kent held her gaze, a shadow of a smile on his lips. “Five minutes is all I need.”
She shook her head, exasperated. “Do you understand the risks here? Each prisoner is bound with magical seals, held down by talismans designed by royal sorcerers. Even the chains are fortified with tantric spells and enchanted metals. Breaking them will take hours of concentrated effort. Have you truly thought this through, or are you just following ambition?”
Kent watched her, amusement dancing in his eyes. Before she could continue, he reached into his storage ring and produced a crystal orb, glistening in the faint light. He held it up, a flicker of magic flashing as he activated a communication link.
“Who’re you calling?” Chelli asked, curious but still clearly dubious.
Ignoring her question, Kent kept his focus on the orb, watching it pulse softly as it connected. A few moments later, a woman’s voice echoed through the orb.
“Kent? Is that you, dear?” The warmth in her voice carried through the spell, soft and familiar.
A smile tugged at Kent’s lips. “Aunt Eila, it’s good to hear your voice.”
“Oh! Finally, you have time for your poor, forgotten aunt!” she teased, though there was clear joy in her voice. “How’s your little incognito mission going?”
“It’s been… eventful,” Kent said, glancing briefly at Chelli. “But I need your help with something urgent.”
“Of course, darling,” Aunt Eila replied. “What do you need?”
“I’m planning to break a large group of people out of the royal prison here. To do that, I need powerful magical tools capable of dissolving binding spells and breaking through any talismans or seals. Nothing ordinary will work,” Kent said, his tone grave. “Also, if possible, I need a treasure to store living people, ideally something that can hold supreme mages, even if just for an hour.”
Aunt Eila was silent for a moment, and then her voice returned, carrying a note of intrigue. “An ambitious plan, as always. But don’t worry, I know exactly what you need. I have some connections across the realms, and I’ll send word to them. I should be able to gather the items by tomorrow. I trust you have a teleportation gate?”
Kent nodded. “Yes, I do. The city I won has one.”
“Perfect,” she replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “You leave the treasures to me. I’ll ensure they’re powerful enough to do the job. But be careful, Kent.”
As the connection faded, Kent turned to see Chelli staring at him, her mouth slightly open in surprise.
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“Well,” she said, slowly closing her mouth. “Looks like I might have underestimated you.”
Kent smirked, rolling his shoulders as he turned back to the wall covered in names and notes. “You’re not the first to do so. And trust me, you won’t be the last.”
She rolled her eyes, clearly not satisfied but unable to pry any further. “Fine. But just know, if anything goes south, I’ll be the first to blame you,” she said, walking toward the other side of the room, muttering to herself.
Kent continued to work in silence, marking names and planning the sequence of his escape route. Hours passed as he meticulously constructed his plan, weaving in every detail from entry points to escape routes, timing, and decoy spells.
By evening, as the last of the daylight began to fade, he stepped back, his task complete. His eyes scanned the walls, filled with profiles of prisoners and a mapped-out escape plan that he had crafted with precise, ruthless efficiency.
Just as he put away his brush, the door creaked open, and the beastmen re-entered, their faces streaked with dirt but their eyes alight with excitement.
“Master, we have completed the initial surveys,” one of them said, bowing deeply. “Tomorrow at dawn, we will begin digging the tunnels, just as you instructed.”
Kent nodded, satisfied. “Good. Keep the work quiet. No one can suspect a thing. Three days is all you have, and we can’t afford any mistakes.”
The beastmen bowed once more, retreating to prepare for the arduous work ahead.