Aeren followed behind them unnoticed, making no move to attack — only watching and shadowing their steps. They moved deeper into the dark forest, walking for nearly an hour before stopping.
At last, they halted near a massive old tree. One of them did something to its surface, then poured mana into it. In an instant, a small, white manor appeared where there had been nothing before. Though it was white, the structure looked aged, rusted in places, with patches darkened almost black.
They all entered the small manor, and as soon as they were inside, it disappeared again from sight.
Aeren slipped in with them, still unseen. Inside, the interior was lit by floating mana balls, casting a steady glow on the hallways. The leader glanced at his companions and ordered,
"Send them to the basement prison."
Two or three members of the group took the four unconscious children — Isolde, Lira, Renn, and Liora — and led them down toward the basement.
The leader then turned to one of his companions.
"Did you send the letter to them?"
"Yes, sir," came the reply. "I've already sent it. They will state our demands to House Verdan."
The leader nodded in satisfaction. "Good. The plan didn't go exactly as we intended, but we still succeeded. Now… we just have to wait, and all of our dreams will be fulfilled."
He laughed loudly, the sound echoing through the manor's halls.
Aeren, listening quietly from the shadows, absorbed every word before silently making his way toward the basement.
A few hours later, Renn slowly opened his eyes. His head throbbed, and pain pulsed through every part of his body. He stayed still for a few seconds, calming his breathing before glancing around. Darkness surrounded him—he couldn't see a thing.
"System… where are we?" Renn asked in his mind.
The familiar voice replied, "Host, we are in a prison. Your hands are bound by mana-restricting chains."
"I see… can you give me some light?"
"Of course, Host."
A small orb of magic light floated above Renn's head, illuminating the cold stone cell. His eyes locked on the chains around his wrists. With a single sharp motion, he snapped one, the metal breaking cleanly as if it were paper.
Renn stepped out of his cell and searched for the others. They were in the next cell over. Without hesitation, he broke their locks and began waking them one by one.
Isolde groaned as she sat up, rubbing her head. Lira glanced around warily, sensing nothing but the presence of the other three. Liora let out a pained sigh, her entire body aching from the earlier battle.
"We're in some kind of basement prison," Renn said firmly. "We'll have to work together to get out of this hellhole."
Everyone nodded silently, determination settling over them. They began following Renn's instructions without question.
In the shadows, unnoticed, Aeren observed them quietly—and followed.
Renn led the group out of the basement, moving carefully up the narrow steps. The dimly lit corridors twisted upward, and after several tense minutes, they finally reached the ground floor.
Renn and the two girls—Isolde and Liora—peeked out into the hall. People moved about everywhere, guards patrolling and talking in low voices. The trio crept forward silently. Renn signaled, and they took out one guard in a swift, silent strike.
But the faint thud of the man hitting the floor was enough. Heads turned.
"They've escaped!" someone shouted.
The leader emerged from the crowd, his expression twisting into rage. "Capture them!"
Five men rushed toward the three children. The clash was immediate.
Liora moved like an assassin, her knife flashing as she swiftly ended her opponent without hesitation. Isolde's swordsmanship was fluid and precise; she didn't kill, but her opponent fell back bleeding from multiple cuts. Renn met all three of his attackers head-on, relying purely on brute strength. His punches were heavy, decisive—within moments, all three men lay unconscious.
Only the leader remained. His gaze hardened, and he charged alone.
His fist collided with Renn's in a resounding crack, neither giving ground. Renn's lips curved into a faint smile. "You're strong."
The two began trading blows in a brutal contest of raw power. For nearly an hour, neither stepped back, the room echoing with the dull thud of fists and the scrape of boots.
Renn knew he could have won earlier. If not for the exhaustion from fighting the monsters at the shopping district, this wouldn't have lasted so long. But there was something almost enjoyable in testing himself like this.
The leader, breathing heavily, smirked. "You're quite good for a brat."
Renn said nothing, still smiling faintly. Enough entertainment, he thought.
Snatching a sword from the ground, he dashed forward. His speed was blinding—before the leader could react, Renn's blade had sliced off his hand, then his other, then his left leg.
"Who sent you?" Renn demanded coldly.
The leader met the boy's serious gaze and laughed, blood pooling at his feet. "Kid… one day you'll understand what true despair looks like. You've never seen it. I have—watched it with my own eyes."
"True despair?" Renn's tone was flat. "I've seen more than you can imagine."
The leader laughed again, a harsh, broken sound. "Then wait a few years. Maybe you'll see it—a heaven so close you can touch it… and then lose it."
With that, he bit down hard on his tongue. Blood sprayed, and he collapsed. Across the room, the remaining captors followed suit, killing themselves before anyone could question them.
Renn's eyes were cold as he stared down at their bodies. "True despair… huh?" he murmured.
He turned toward Isolde and Liora—then paused. Something was wrong.
"…Where's Lira?"
Silence fell over the hall.