There was about half an hour left before Laura and Enor's arrival. Kreyn had accomplished a lot in that time, but not everything.
He got control over the warden, and the guards were disarmed or killed, but Kreyn still wasn't the full ruler of the prison. To do that, he had one more thing to achieve: he had to win the prisoners' approval.
Unlike the guards, he couldn't just kill or intimidate them, because there were many more of them and they had their own leaders.
Fortunately, he had a strong start. After all, he was the one who started the riot and was the main driving force behind the plan.
"Look!" one of the prisoners exclaimed. "It's Daren!"
"Agh?" His friend stopped beating the guard. "He finally decided to show up? Although it's not surprising that the news only reached him now."
"Yes, today he went especially deep into the caves."
Step. Step. Step.
Daren emerged from the mine, a pickaxe slung over his shoulder and a cigarette in his mouth.
"Damn it."
He whistled when he saw the scene — a destroyed courtyard, broken windows, and dozens of freed prisoners.
"This actually happened, right? And... he decided to do this when the Wurhen Family was supposed to arrive? He's either crazy or a genius."
At the same moment, confident footsteps echoed from afar. All the prisoners turned around as their eyes widened. Now, everyone knew who Kreyn was, and those who doubted him quickly changed their minds when they saw Valyra behind him, dragging the warden by a rope.
Like a stream of water, the prisoners parted to the side, opening a path for him to the other end.
Daren exhaled a cloud of smoke and offered him a cigarette.
"Want one? These are the good ones, personally, from the guard."
Kreyn's corners of his mouth curled up.
"Are you kidding? Look at me. This body is barely holding on as it is. Шf I hurt it any more, I won't see the next dawn."
In response, Daren shrugged. "As you wish."
"So, you're Daren, the Seeker? Are you the boss here?"
Daren chuckled. "Yeah, something like that. Although, apparently, I'm number two now."
"What about the big guy?" Kreyn nodded toward the cell where Liam had awakened.
"Ah? You mean Gorgho? I heard you dealt with him pretty harshly."
"I thought he was the boss, but Valyra said it was actually you." Kreyn waved his hand.
"Well..." Daren took a drag on his cigarette. "Someone had to be in charge here, in the courtyard, and someone in the caves. However, now the situation has completely changed, and the only reason for that is you."
Then, his gaze became sharp as a blade.
"What's your plan? How do you intend to defeat the two Origins?"
Daren threw away his cigarette, stubbing it out with his foot.
"Why should I follow you and risk my life in battle against them instead of picking up a pickaxe and digging my way to freedom through the walls?"
Silence.
The tension grew until Kreyn's voice broke the silence.
"Because this prison is no longer their domain. They are walking into our trap, not the other way around. What's more..."
He looked at the warden.
"We have a few tricks up our sleeves." Kreyn's face remained calm. "I prefer to play big. What's the point of running away if we can win right here and now? Could there be a better moment than this?"
No one took a vote, but everyone understood that some of the prisoners wanted to follow Kreyn, while the other half remained loyal to Daren, who had long been their leader.
The prisoners exchanged glances and clenched their fists, waiting for Daren's answer.
"What can I say?" Daren grinned, holding out his hand. "I love to win, and I'm too reckless to pass up this opportunity."
Kreyn responded to the handshake.
"Great. That's what I need. But time is short, so follow my commands!"
...
About half an hour later, a dark carriage stopped in front of the prison gates. The guards dismounted from their horses as Laura and Enor got out of the carriage.
"Please take my hand." Enor offered, extending his hand to Laura as she stepped out.
The corner of her mouth twitched, but she accepted his gesture.
"Is it just me, or is it surprisingly quiet today?" She cast a concerned glance toward the prison. "What's more, why are the gates open and no one is there to meet us?"
Enor frowned.
"Either something happened in the mine, or that idiot Borko is failing at his job as usual and didn't manage to organize a proper greeting for you. Tsk, putting that fat pig in the warden's position was a mistake. When we're done with the prisoners, we'll have to remind him of his role."
Led by Enor and Laura, the convoy entered the prison. They went straight to the courtyard, where they froze in shock.
"What the hell...?" Laura muttered in disbelief.
About ten guards, in their distinctive black uniforms, were trying to clear the debris as massive rocks blocked the way into the mine. Several prisoners were helping them.
"The mine collapsed?" One of the men looked back.
"How could this have happened? Did someone make a mistake?"
"Boss." The man turned to Enor. "What should we do? Should we help them, or…?"
Enor stopped him with a wave of his hand. His face trembled with growing anger.
"Borko… I promise this is your last day in this prison. How could he ruin a day like this?"
Then, Enor took a deep breath and nodded.
"Yes. Help them, it looks like the collapse was serious and—"
He froze as his gaze shifted upward.
More than a dozen sticks of dynamite, already lit, fell on them from the roof on both sides, accompanied by the satisfied smirks of the prisoners.
Enor's eyes widened as he rushed towards Laura to cover her with his long coat.
BLAST!
A deafening explosion rang out across the prison. Part of the walls collapsed along with the guards who fell to the ground in bloody and lifeless bodies.
Shards flew in all directions, shattering against Enor's strong back. His expression was full of rage.
"SHIT!" He waved his arm, trying to clear the smoke. "Laura, they ambushed us! This... This is a riot! Bastards, I'll show you how to go against—!
Click.
A click sounded as Laura was the first to notice the ominous shadow behind Enor. Its frame was frail, but its gaze was full of determination.
Enor's eyes darted, noticing the long barrel of the revolver that was pressed right against his temple.
Like the Sword of Damocles, the cylinder came into motion when the shot rang out.