Escaping One Prison, Entering Another Pt. 02

The prisoner carriage traveled down the road leading to the bottom. Soon, it reached the base of the mining ground. A soldier used a key to unlock the metallic door of the carriage.

"Get out!"

Rupert's group slowly stood up one by one, exiting the carriage through the door. They started to walk one by one and merge into the crowd—thousands of people gathered here, all of them war prisoners. They were not military personnel, yet the elves treated them as such. These people were civilians who had been living their lives normally until a day ago, unaware of the danger and death that awaited them. They had only survived by hiding in basements and stone-mage-built buildings.

Rupert realized that the thousands of people in the crowd must be civilian victims from other towns and villages. That meant the same massacre that had occurred in Helsi must have happened elsewhere as well.

With that realization, Rupert's heart dropped, turning ice cold. Cold sweat poured from his body. He felt sick—a deep stomach pain twisting and churning inside him. He felt like throwing up.

"Mr. Han..."

What happened to Mr. Han? Don't tell me... there's no way, right? I don't want to know. I don't want to believe it.

Tohe was a town made of planks and logs. Most of the buildings were constructed from wood. Adding to that, they were built above ground level, leaving a gap between the first floor and the earth, with only stone pillars and foundations made of stone. There were no basements in Tohe—nowhere to hide, nowhere to seek shelter. According to Nina, the woman who had spoken with Rupert, Helsi had been completely leveled. Every house was destroyed—only rubble and gravel remained. No walls stood straight. The elves had used mana bombs to flatten the town.

Mr. Han had definitely been at the tavern in the evening, drinking himself to death—his usual daily routine before bed. Even if he had been alerted and knew in advance about the elves' operation, he wouldn't have been in a state of mind capable of thinking about his own survival. He wouldn't have tried to save himself, run away, or find some place—any place—to cower from the bombardment. He wouldn't have even had such thoughts. He really is dead, Mr. Han is dead.

Even if someone had told them—the people in the tavern—to run for their lives, Mr. Han would have only taken it as a joke. A funny joke, made even funnier by the alcohol.

And that would have led to his death.

In Rupert's mind, there was no way Mr. Han could have survived the massacre. Mr. Han was simply not capable of surviving such a raid.

Rupert was in shock and disbelief, but more importantly, he was shocked by his own reaction to the realization of Mr. Han's death. He never expected to feel such deep sorrow over someone else's life, death, or misery—not even Mr. Han's. He had always believed himself to be a cool and pragmatic individual, incapable of emotions or sympathy. But this was unexpected.

Rupert felt a profound sadness for Mr. Han's death. His mind darkened and clouded. He refused to accept reality, denied the overwhelming likelihood of Mr. Han's fate—but at the same time, he couldn't lie to himself. He couldn't deceive or trick himself into ignoring the undeniable truth. His mind was conflicted, his emotions and logic clashing like water and oil, contradicting each other in an endless cycle.

The world felt unreal. His heart and mind were heavy, like a magnet pulling him down to earth. Sounds became blurry and distant, blending into an incoherent noise. Rupert could no longer tell if he was in a dream or reality. Everything felt unreal, as if he were a ghost—something not of this world, yet trapped in the physical realm, bound to the world of matter.

Rupert, mourned Mr. Han's death while standing in front of the carriage, after taking only a step out.

A hand reached out to Rupert's shoulder, gripping it. 

"Hey what's going on?" Nina was concerned about Rupert, he was acting distant and unlike the time they traveled together on the road.

He turned his head around, not wanting to explain himself, yet felt as if he didn't said anything right now, anything and to anyone, his head would explode of these emotions, these thoughts, and would sink into a place he never wanted to touch, never wanted to acknowledge.

"Mr. Han, Mr. Han is dead" tears fell from his eyes like droops of a water dropping from ice spikes in springtime, slow and scarce. 

"Mr. Han? I see, someone close to you right? must been tough to lose them, must be sad, but you know what Rupert, Rupert look at me, you know what? I lost my entire family as well, everyone here have lost someone dear to them, so don't break down now please, stand strong and face the present, for right now we are alive right? would Mr. Han you mentioned glad to see you in this state right now? things are moving fast and if you don't keep moving you will eventually be caught by the same fate as your loved ones. so Rupert, even if you are sad, you have to live to carry on that sadness of the dead, if you don't live to mourn the dead then who will remember the dead?"

"come on, let's go, don't make any ruckus, look at the poor guy, it seems like they won't even try to hide their devilish rules, I bet the guy didn't even touch him before he was burned like that, how awful. Rupert, let's stay alive, I don't want to die in a place like this."

Nina put her hand on Rupert's back, gently guiding him forward and into the crowd.