Volume 6 Chapter 33 Starvation, Madness, or Escape
Edited by: Kanaa-senpai
Even after his consciousness cleared, there was no real panic.
Strangely, a cool breeze seemed to stir within his mind. Curiosity about his immediate surroundings outweighed any sense of urgency—a feeling perhaps born of growing accustomed to peril.
After all, he had faced true danger before.
He wasn’t about to die in the next two seconds.
Still… being completely naked was painfully inconvenient. Not that he demanded tools or weapons—but at least some clothes would have been nice.
The situation was far from ideal.
He was in a prison of some sort. The air was stagnant, and darkness swallowed nearly everything, leaving only the faint outline of his own hands visible.
Rough sandstone walls enclosed the space.
One side opened, blocked by iron bars.
He scanned for rusted spots that might yield to a kick but could discern little in the darkness. Considering non-iron possibilities, he tried to ignite a spark with his only magic, but the flame died almost before it appeared.
It wasn’t that the fire wouldn’t light—it felt absorbed.
Apparently, the bars were enchanted to nullify magic.
By human standards, such measures were excessive.
Magic deteriorated over time and required maintenance. Such a prison could not have been built for a trivial criminal—it was far too costly.
Yet everything else about this place was worse than the underground jails of a human town.
A bedding stuffed with coarse animal hair.
A squeaky, ancient bedframe. The floor itself was fine sand.
That was all. No furniture, no clothing. Even his sight was stripped away—a brutal, uncompromising setup.
This was the Beast Kingdom. He had no doubt he had not been transported to the Human Continent while unconscious.
He needed to measure things by the standards of this land, though his three months of experience here barely sufficed.
One thing was clear: this was dangerous.
To remove both clothing and sight, and throw him into a cell without question, suggested treatment approaching execution. In such irrational circumstances, further danger was to be expected.
He inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly, and centered his thoughts.
Most people weren’t geniuses; few could react perfectly under pressure.
But preparation simplified decision-making. Knowing what to do beforehand meant merely following through.
The key was readiness. Thieves lived by this rule: always prepare for pursuit, always keep escape in mind.
If this was a prison, guards must exist.
Even if none appeared at first, it was better to plan for their arrival.
The goal was simple: escape.
Freedom was the prize.
Everything in the cell might become relevant.
Though escape seemed difficult, it wasn’t impossible. The sand floor and sandstone walls offered possibilities.
Many Beastkin could dig with ease.
In this kingdom, cells were designed for them. Someone likely monitored these prisoners, preventing simple tunneling.
In public prisons, guards would naturally deliver meals and make rounds.
In a kingdom dungeon, patrols were normal—but here, with the lack of context, he could only prepare for the worst.
He wondered why he was here.
Drunken stupor seemed unlikely—he hadn’t consumed alcohol, nor did he have a headache suggesting overindulgence.
Formal arrest? Unlikely. This was a cell designed to corner prisoners—perhaps even death-row inmates.
So, he had been kidnapped.
By whom and why remained uncertain.
In the Beast Kingdom, human males were prime targets for thieves’ abductions—more valuable than the daughters of minor nobles.
He had no clue how it had been accomplished. More pressing was whether the captors knew about the hero, Cianie, and whether that had factored into their plan.
Beyond the bars stretched pitch-black darkness.
With no light, he could perceive only sound.
Footsteps came first.
Bare feet slapped softly on a hard surface.
Not sand. Only hard ground produced that sound.
If he dug through the sand floor, sandstone might appear—but digging now seemed pointless. Escape by tunneling was unlikely to succeed. He focused entirely on auditory information.
The footsteps grew closer.
One person, almost certainly a guard.
The sound wasn’t stealthy—there was no intruder.
Could they see in this darkness? Possibly.
The outside was total blackness.
Normally, some light would filter through cracks—but here, none came. Perhaps night, perhaps intentional design. The darkness seemed meant to induce panic and exhaustion.
A door creaked.
The sound of wood shifting against metal locks, a key inserted, a bolt sliding aside. Perhaps the key was to prevent instant escape. The structure was formidable.
…Observation was key.
The figure entered what appeared to be the solitary cell.
Yet the darkness didn’t change. The footsteps came from the left side of the bars. No torch had been brought.
”…Food,” came a soft, whispered voice.
A single, necessary word. A woman’s voice. Not surprising—men were rare in this land.
”…Oh, thanks. Are you the guard? I’ve got a question… why am I here? I don’t recall deserving this treatment.”
He spoke to extract information.
Only faint breathing replied.
Scratches on the bars, metallic grates clanging sharply, echoed through the silence.
”Coming back later,” the voice said.
”…Wait! Please, explain! What’s happening?”
The response faded, refusing communication entirely.
He understood instantly, yet had no words to change it.
A moment later, scratching resumed.
The door swung open, and the guard exited—swift, impassive.
No conversation, no explanation.
He exhaled sharply.
Even the reason for his capture remained unknown.
The coldness of the act was deliberate, professional.
This was normal procedure here, not a haphazard kidnapping.
A thief would have lingered, savoring their prey. Only a bureaucrat could leave silently.
…Was there even a delivery hatch for food?
It was too dark to tell.
Careful probing revealed a small gap at the bars’ center—just enough to slip a hand through.
Only a single plate lay on the table.
Perhaps it was just soup. It could be called a typical prisoner’s meal, but it was pitifully meager.
…Huh? What is this?
A sudden sense of unease prickled at him.
The soup dish was cold.
The darkness made it hard to see inside, but as he leaned closer, the truth revealed itself—
”…You’ve got to be kidding me,” Klock muttered.
Something squirmed in the plate.
As he focused on the shapes within, it became instantly clear that this was not food meant for a human.
Wriggling there were worms. Alive, twisting and writhing in the dish.
”…Don’t mess with me! I’m not a bird!” he shouted, disgusted.
He picked up the plate and flung its contents out of the cage.
The worms splattered onto the sand below.
That was it for today’s meal. No water appeared forthcoming either; only the empty plate remained.
Was this some form of prisoner harassment?
Even among Humans, female death-row inmates were routinely abused by the guards, and men were beaten without hesitation.
Perhaps this, too, was a calculated effort to torment them—to push prisoners to their limits.
”Man… this is brutal. Just being here is basically torture,” Klock muttered under his breath.
No flicker of hope existed here, only stark reality.
Klock, a city-raised man, would rather starve than eat worms. No matter how hungry he became, some things were simply impossible.
In other words, surviving here for more than a few days was unlikely.
This was bad.
If he didn’t act quickly, dying in this prison was a real possibility.
A creeping anxiety rose in him—something he hadn’t felt until now.
Klock had Cianie. Secretly, he had been counting on her.
She was brave—powerful enough to rival an entire unit of humans by herself.
Before her, nothing seemed significant, and no matter how far he ran, she would always catch up. Now, she was his. He couldn’t help but expect her to come.
Yet, relying entirely on her wasn’t an option.
Even if Cianie realized he was gone and came searching, a week might pass before she arrived—and survival until then wasn’t guaranteed. Humans, deprived of food and water, died easily.
Her help was practically unavailable.
”No way… eating worms until she shows up? No chance,” he muttered, shaking his head.
Besides, this place would break anyone’s mind long before death came.
…Escape was the only choice.
The near-total darkness made everything worse.
He had suspected it before, but now it was clear: this environment was deliberately designed to wear prisoners down mentally, even before their bodies.
Madness could come before starvation.
Calm down.
Even without Cianie, he had a plan to escape.
He hadn’t yet exhausted all his options.
Magic circles or his partner’s knife weren’t the only ways out.
But there was one problem: the glow from magic use (the fire).
Anyone with magic or a Unique Skill knew that using power produced light.
Magic circles emitted a glow along the runes, while energy-based techniques often manifested visibly first. But Klock’s Unique Skill had its own complication.
Using it in total darkness would immediately give him away.
Even his advantage—low visibility—would be useless here.
Running light meant magic.
Even small amounts glowed.
In complete darkness, even the tiniest light would be noticed.
”…Wait,” he murmured.
He remembered the earlier exchange.
The guard had reached this spot without hesitation.
Incredible eyesight.
But human senses weren’t only about vision.
The scratching at the cage—what if the guard was sniffing out the food slot?
Yet he had come straight here, almost without error. Maybe it wasn’t eyes—it was the nose.
The guard was probably Beastkin. Beastkin didn’t operate by the same logic as Humans.
Most had keener senses of smell and hearing.
Even if they looked human, their animal traits often dominated.
Beastkin were believed to share ancient ancestry with Humans.
The animal traits they inherited varied widely.
There were wolves, pigs, cows, rats, and even avian Beastkin—each with differing animal instincts.
Some, like Mina, only had ears and tails. Others were nearly indistinguishable from four-legged beasts.
The repeated scratching? It was the sound of claws.
Not normal. Enormous claws, probably the size of a bear’s.
The guard must be a Beastkin of extreme strength.
If a fight broke out, he’d be terrifying.
His animal instincts would also be unusually strong.
Humans had strong desires too, but Beastkin instincts were amplified.
A cat Beastkin would chase small prey instinctively.
Here, the guard’s instincts mattered most.
Being a guard meant controlling this space.
Even with powerful instincts, only a Beastkin capable of navigating this dark territory could survive on duty.
A dog or cat? Unlikely in this pitch-black environment. Even cats could struggle when the ground itself was invisible.
”Not a dog or cat… maybe a bear? No… could it be—”
It wasn’t logic, just deduction. Imperfect, but necessary.
After a moment, Klock made a decision.
He would strike at the next opportunity.
Notes:
• 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.
• Mina – She is a golden-haired catgirl employee of the beastman (Larana the cat woman) Inn, appeared performing fellatio, desperate and tear-streaked, with an inexperienced yet earnest approach to her work.
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Edited by Kanaa-senpai.
Thanks for reading.
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