Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 491: Rurin Gaols

Act 3: Empire's Stand - Chapter 491: Rurin Gaols

Lying on the ground, Oscar coughed and spat out the dirt in his mouth, struggling to breathe properly. A pungent scent, a nauseating rotten smell, stopped him from breathing regularly from his nose, and the iron taste of the blood in the dirt was sickening, his stomach churning to force a fierce rejection in vomit, but he held it in and waited for his chance. From the corner of his unburied eye, only a spread of pale eyes from corpses greeted him, their blood long since drained into the earth, hence the revolting taste of the dirt.

He was half-buried in a war-torn battlefield, surrounded by the corpses of his allies and enemies. During his invasion of the Burning Valley, he forced himself to become acquainted with the harrowing scenes of cursed grounds left over by the wake of battle. But he couldn't get used to it, the unblinking faces of anguish welcoming him to join them. Unable to bear it any longer, he closed his eyes and waited for the enemy to scope the remains.

Soon, heavy footsteps splashed around, squishing what sounded like bloodied mud, and then a series of thuds followed after. Oscar opened his eyes. People garbed in red uniforms and green uniforms, the Undying Flame Sect and Thousand Storm Palace had arrived, piling the bodies of their fallen Exalts onto large containers. Like a group of scavengers, they rummaged through the dead bodies of his allies, taking everything from space pockets to armaments.

"A survivor!" One of them shouted, and a whole group rushed, targeting their weapons at the poor fellow. The man was injured and was missing an arm, but he raised the other one to indicate his surrender. Binding him in restraints, the enemy pulled him away to the side. One by one, they found more survivors, all injured and dirtied, and arrested them, lining them up on their knees under the watchful eyes of others.

"Another one!" It was his turn. Oscar limped his body and groaned, allowing the pain from his slight self-inflicted injuries to take over, slight but compounded by his slackening display. Rough hands gripped his shoulders, digging their fingers into his skin without any care, and pulled him out of the ground. Oscar coughed and pretended to wake up.

"Get up!" The soldier who dug him out tossed him out of his ground and kicked him in the stomach. Oscar pretended to choke from the vice grip on the back of his neck and got up on wobbly legs.Fôll0w current novÊls o/n n/o/(v)/3l/b((in).(c/o/m)

"I surrender...." Oscar raised his hands before he was quickly restrained and followed the soldier to the group of other survivors. Still pretending to be tired and weak, he glanced over the group and faintly smiled for a split second. Fred and Emily were among the gathered, along with several other men and women. The soldier hit him behind his legs, forcing him to kneel on the ground like the rest.

Under the threat of the enemy troops surrounding them, the survivors continued to kneel and remain silent. An hour later, the enemy gathered and moved the large containers of loot and them. Bound in chains linked to each other, Oscar and the other prisoners marched along the enemy and were hoisted onto an airship. Loud turbines screeched until they buzzed like bees, and the airship lifted itself, heading away from the battlefield.

A commanding officer stomped toward them and pulled up a chair. As he sat, he snapped his fingers, and his soldiers carried a box containing vials of bright liquid. "Drink this and answer our questions! Any lies or defiance will be met with a swift death."

Everyone drank the vials and was asked many questions. Oscar recalled the basic information he was taught about these frontlines and answered what he knew. As a Greater Knight Exalt, he knew the enemy expected him to have more information, so he gave the intel Remulus had carefully selected for him to use to get past this interrogation. The intel was all true, but not the kind that would be a detriment to the Pavilion if they prepared in advance.

After everyone was questioned and interrogated, the commanding officer smiled and shouted, "We set out for Rurin Gaols first! These prisoners need some reeducation."

In a single line, he and the newcomers were called up one by one to receive their cell numbers. Oscar received his and roamed into the mess hall. With vigor in their eyes, some prisoners nodded to him; he noted they were probably still recently imprisoned folks. The troubling part was the others who mumbled listlessly, spilling some food on their shirts, their hair growing wildly from their head and faces. Oscar knew these were the oldtimers who had been imprisoned here for years.

'They're already broken in a way.' Oscar spoke to Erden through their mental connection.

'Pavilion Master asks you to scope out the place. He's already shocked to know that the prison goes underground.' Erden responded. The other reason for him being the best person for the job was not only due to the Reis but also the connection to Erden, allowing him to relay information instantly.

'Tell the Pavilion Master I'm on the third level.' Oscar went past the mess hall to look for his room. The first time the room opened, all the old Apprentice Exalts exited, the second time was the Elite Exalts, and the third was him and the other Knight Exalts. 'If we're correct, my master is on the fourth level. How are the other preparations?'

'Going well. They can make their deadline. The concern is you. Pavilion Master says to give it your best and break out without Draven if necessary. Erden replied.

'Fred, Emily, and I will do our best.' Oscar stopped talking to Erden. He stood before an open cell room and walked inside. Loud snores tremored the air. A blanket rose and fell from the large mound on a bed. Oscar ignored the snoring man and studied the room, finding zero vents or panels.

"Damn. I hate underground prisons." Oscar tapped the walls to find a weak spot, but only a dull sound of solid rock responded.

"Who's making that racket?!" The sleeping man screamed, standing up. The prisoner grabbed the blanket over his face and pulled it out. He cracked his knuckles and snarled at Oscar, "Who the hell are you?"

Oscar inhaled and sighed, cracking his shoulder by rotating his arm. "I forgot. It's been a while since I was last in prison. I have to beat everyone else down, right?" He raised his fist and took up a stance. To impede fear, he switched with Demon, and a chilly expression took over.

"Kneel, you bastard." Demon spat on the man's clothes.