Volume 6 Chapter 34 Prison Break Begins
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
They had come—he could hear it.
The sound of a key sliding into a lock was one Klock could never mistake. The wooden door had its own timbre, instantly recognizable to a trained ear.
Footsteps approached, their rhythm muffled to silence when they crossed the sandy floor. The breathing grew nearer, pressing into the darkness around him. As before, something hard tapped against the iron bars—probing, checking. Klock rose to his feet.
”Food—” the guard began.
”Don’t mess with me!” Klock barked, his voice rough with rage.
He hurled the empty plate against the wall. Crash! The sharp shattering of ceramic rang out in the pitch-black cell, the sound ricocheting off unseen walls. Predictably, the guard’s head turned toward the noise. In that instant, Klock lunged forward, his arm shooting through the small hatch in the center of the bars—just wide enough for a plate—careful not to touch the iron as his fingers found bare skin.
Skill activation: Bandit (Plunder).
”What’s this, huh?! You give me worms and call that food?!” he roared, forcing his voice louder to cover the skill’s use.
”…Huh?” The guard’s tone wavered, confused.
”You think a human can eat bugs? I’ll kill you before that happens!” Klock snarled.
”…Wait, really?” she asked, hesitation in her voice.
For a moment, he wondered if she had truly meant no insult. Perhaps the wriggling meal had been offered in genuine ignorance rather than malice. Her reaction confirmed the thought.
”So… what do Humans eat?” she asked cautiously.
”Fish, animal meat, vegetables—cooked,” he said, his tone flat.
Clearly, she knew nothing of Humans. But then, it wasn’t so strange; there were Humans who lived and died without ever meeting a Beastkin, and the reverse was just as true.
”I see. I’ll go get something else,” she said.
”…Yeah. You do that.”
The guard, oddly compliant for someone in her position, backed away without placing the plate down. Footsteps retreated into silence, leaving him alone again in the oppressive dark.
So that’s how it is, Klock thought.
He could have pressed for more information while she was still there, but the sudden heat flaring across his back kept him silent. He’d stolen something with Bandit (Plunder)—but not the iron key he’d expected.
No, what he had taken was a magical emblem or sigil. A key in itself.
He had already explored the bars thoroughly, hands tracing every inch while he’d been waiting. The lack of a visible gate had been baffling—until now. This “key” was not for a lock but for the magical barrier that held him.
He pressed a hand against the bars. Nothing resisted. He stepped forward cautiously—and slipped through as though the prison’s iron had never been there.
”Well, I’ll be damned. No one but me could’ve pulled that off,” he muttered.
The magic here nullified conventional locks, relying instead on a specific magical key. It was the first time in his career he’d encountered such a design. Perhaps that was why they’d stripped him bare.
A fortress of a prison, he thought grimly. Whatever crime they believed he’d committed must have been serious.
But that didn’t matter. The goal was clear—escape. Once he found Cianie, they could find somewhere safe.
He began pacing the room. He’d need to map the area before the guard returned. The only real exit would be through the same door she had used—meaning he’d need a second “key” to get out.
The darkness pressed close, each step slow, deliberate. The sand under his bare feet was cold and fine, like that of a desert. He kept to the walls, fingers skimming stone as he moved. Something felt wrong—this “room” was far too large. And the ground began to slope downward.
A tunnel. A descent.
That meant underground. No natural sand like this belonged indoors—this had been dug out. Going deeper was risky… but there was always the chance of another exit. A flicker of hope stirred in his chest.
And then—light.
Not white, but a strange mingling of violet and blue, faintly pulsing. The path curved downward, forming a narrow corridor toward the source.
”What the hell is this place?” Klock muttered.
The tunnel opened into a chamber. At its heart yawned a hole—emanating that strange, unsettling glow. The colors bled into the stone, an otherworldly halo radiating into the room.
He stepped closer. The light felt… comforting, yet wrong. Peering in, he found only pitch-black darkness.
”No way…”
The light poured from the hole, yet inside was nothing but void. The walls of the shaft brightened toward the top, as though the glow came from within the darkness itself.
And then—an uncanny sensation.
Something was looking back at him.
If he reached in, he felt he could grab it. If he called out, it might answer. The feeling was wrong—like a door that should never connect to the world above.
”Tch. Figures there’s nothing else here,” he said aloud, stepping back.
The glow revealed the truth—no other exits. The only path lay back the way he had come. He wasn’t about to jump into a bottomless pit.
With a long, steady exhale, Klock turned back quickly. The plan from the start had been to make another move on the guard. He only needed to snatch the keys, or launch an ambush the moment she opened the door. The lack of a clear path wasn’t a reason to get discouraged.
And yet, he returned to the corridor with a sinking feeling in his chest.
If possible, he would have preferred to escape right then and there—but that wasn’t going to happen easily.
When he glanced back at the hole, there was a strange pang of regret, as if he was reluctant to part with it. Maybe the darkness was already starting to eat away at his mind.
Honestly, he missed Cianie—desperately. Being stuck here for so long was brutal.
“When I see her next, I’ll be nicer to her… hell, I wish she’d just come right now,” he thought, grinding his teeth.
It was the lack of anyone else that made it worse.
Time had lost all meaning, and the stress kept piling on. He had been here for what felt like forever, but there was no way to tell how long it had actually been.
No—that wasn’t entirely true. There was a clue. The guard had brought him food twice now. If she came twice a day, then at least half a day had passed. Which meant that, assuming he had been thrown in here and woken up almost immediately, this was probably the end of his first day in captivity.
—Hm?
Since being tossed into the darkness, he had nothing to do but think. He was in the middle of mentally tracking time—probably a pointless task—when he suddenly heard a sound from above.
It didn’t feel like his imagination.
It was a high, sharp sound—metal striking metal.
”—!!”
It was unmistakably a human voice.
The moment he heard it, Klock’s feet stopped.
It sounded a lot like a voice he had heard not too long ago.
Which meant—
”—There? Wait, are you there?!” a voice called out.
”…Shit,” Klock muttered.
He’d been found.
Spinning on his heel, he bolted.
The rear of the corridor was a dead end—he knew that in his head, but he had nowhere else to go.
”Wait!! That way—!!”
Clang!
The noise grew louder, closer—less like footsteps and more like digging. He pictured metal boots hammering into the ground as he tore through the darkness.
He reached the faint, suspicious light ahead and kept running downhill.
”Damn it, there’s gotta be something—anything!” he hissed.
He reached the same room he had left only seconds—maybe minutes—ago and began feeling around frantically.
A stone—he needed a stone. Something he could fight with.
His hands patted over the sand—only the dry, shifting feel of sarasara grains met his fingers. Maybe a sandstone shard… he could at least throw it.
Before he could find anything, the pursuer stormed into the room, kicking off the wall with a loud thud.
”Get back here, right—now—guuuh?!”
He grabbed a handful of sand, ready to throw it in her eyes. But he never got the chance.
The guard collapsed to the ground.
”Ghh—gububububuh?!” she sputtered.
”…What?”
She writhed violently, foam spilling from her mouth, thrashing like a fish washed ashore. The large claws on her hands scraped desperately at the sand.
It was too sudden—Klock couldn’t comprehend it at first. But whatever had happened, it was clearly not part of her plan.
This was his chance.
He moved to slip around her. For a moment, their eyes met.
”Guh… help… me…” she croaked.
Then, just as abruptly as she had collapsed, she went limp.
The foam spilling from her mouth shimmered sickly blue-violet in the light from the hole above. The menacing claws lay still, stripped of their threat.
Could that light… be dangerous to Beastkin?
If it wasn’t some illness, then it had to be an external cause—and here, the only possible culprit was the light. If she had known that, her panic made sense. Maybe she hadn’t known at all, and that’s why she charged into the room.
Well, looks like I just got a free key. No way.
Klock smirked. Misfortune and luck always seemed to swing to extremes.
He approached the fallen guard, flipping her over with a shove. Her chest swayed as her clawed hands lay motionless. The wild animal stench made him wrinkle his nose, but with her unconscious, he didn’t hold back—he yanked the ring of keys tied to her waistband.
Her face looked almost human, but her hands were dangerous. Her ears were rodent-like, yet her exact species was still unclear. If she woke up, she’d probably try to kill him instantly.
Best to get out—fast.
”…Tch.”
He started to leave, then hesitated. Scratching behind his ear with a sigh, he turned back.
This was a pain in the ass.
Grumbling under his breath, he slipped her arm over his neck and hoisted her up.
* * *
He set the guard down in front of her own cell, then stepped out with the stolen keys.
Outside the room, it was still as dark as ever. Barefoot on what felt like sandstone, the gritty texture was unpleasant, but he ignored it and took the sloping passage upward.
There were no stairs—just a natural incline. It felt more like a naturally formed cave than anything built by hand.
Light appeared ahead.
A torch.
He reached the sconce and noticed a word carved into the wall—sea.
Not graffiti… so what then? Are we under the ocean?
The ground was far too dry for that. Even the most secure prison wouldn’t be built underwater—it’d be too much trouble for the jailers.
If the word wasn’t literal, it had to be metaphorical.
He took the torch from its holder and continued. The wood was still fresh, the fire barely burning into charcoal—probably brought by the now-unconscious guard. He needed to leave before she woke.
The cave felt natural enough. On the Beast Continent, using existing formations as structures wasn’t unusual. Still, something about the layout felt… off. Too impractical to be man-made, too odd to be entirely natural.
He pressed on through the sandstone tunnel, about three meters high and endlessly twisting.
Despite the distance walked, it didn’t feel like much progress. That was when the smell hit him.
Pungent.
Humans have been here.
It was a smell he recognized—like certain alleys in the Royal Capital’s slums. He’d never been, but he’d heard Theocracy cities had entire districts like that.
A place like a slum.
The path brightened ahead.
The light here didn’t flicker—it shone steady, likely from magic stones rather than torches.
A much nicer prison than the one below.
He stepped out into a vast chamber—an open cavern lined with cages. The place was clearly a detention facility.
He walked forward boldly. If there were prisoners here, they’d be Beastkin, and Beastkin reacted strongly to Humans. But with no other path, avoiding them wasn’t an option.
No one reached for the bars or tried to see who he was. At first, he thought the cages were empty.
They weren’t.
”What the hell…” he muttered.
Inside one cage, a woman with large, drooping dog-like ears slumped limply, drool spilling from her mouth. Her tail hung lifeless. Her eyes were rolled back—there was no trace of sanity.
They were alive, but their minds were gone.
The other cages were the same. Some bars were bent, sandstone scraped by claws—signs they had resisted at first.
The women were naked, like Klock, some with hair and blood tangled in their claws, their faces twisted in pure despair.
It was hell.
Here’s your refined chapter in third-person, with speaker tags, sensory detail enhancement, and careful preservation of the original tone and meaning.
* * *
Through the iron bars, some prisoners lay collapsed, clutching each other’s hands as if to keep from slipping away.
”This is messed up,” Klock muttered under his breath, his voice low but rough. “Have they all gone insane?”
What in the world had happened here?
His mind drifted to the gaping hole he had seen earlier. At the time, he’d assumed the guard had fainted because of that strange light. Yet here, there was nothing of the sort.
If that wasn’t the cause, then what had driven these people to this state? Even if there was another explanation, nothing came to mind.
”…Sorry,” he murmured, glancing away before pushing onward.
This was far beyond anything he could handle. If they had been wounded but sane, he might have considered carrying them out. But this? Impossible. He already had his hands full just keeping himself alive. Dozens of deranged prisoners were a problem without a solution—at least, not one he could provide.
”Hell of a thing to wake up to…” His lips curled in disgust. “Only a damn government would make something this rotten.”
He had suspected as much before, but now he was almost certain—this place wasn’t just under the domain of the Beast Nation; it was part of it. Klock didn’t know what kind of man the Emperor of the Hundred Beasts was, but a nightmare on this scale reeked of state involvement. Bandits would have simply sold their captives or killed them outright.
Tearing his eyes from the cells, he decided to move on.
His mood had sunk to the bottom. Evil was evil, but evil stripped of all humanity was something he couldn’t stomach. The stench of this place pressed in on him, thick and foul, threatening to make him gag.
”—?”
It was when he stepped past the caged hollow that he heard it—
a voice, so faint he almost thought it a trick of his mind. He froze, straining to catch it again. It wasn’t his imagination. Someone here still spoke with the clarity of reason.
”…Humans as guards? That’s a twisted taste,” the voice said, each word deliberate.
Klock turned sharply, scanning the line of cages. He halted when his eyes landed on a woman lying against the cold stone floor. In a place where everyone else stared lifelessly into nothing, her gaze still burned with light.
Against all odds, someone here had managed to hold onto their sanity.
Notes:
• Clea – younger dog beastkin sister who also serviced Klock previously.
• Cianie – A noble girl with a fluffy white and light blue dress, indicating her high status. She has a hesitant and flustered personality but is kind and courteous. Her relationship with Klock begins as an accidental encounter and develops into a romantic interest. She has a fiancé but expresses feelings for Klock, complicating their relationship.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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