Chapter 320: 320 Art. 319. "The Way Too Far"

The inside of Jail Bella's food storage room was quite chilly, partly due to the dead snow. Even with a jacket on, a chill crept into my skin.

The size of the vault is quite large, as it can feed the stomachs of many people in the prison. It was no different from a large merchant's warehouse. This meant that it would take too much time and effort to inspect every nook and cranny.

The carts had just been brought in. As he put his hand on one of them, the guard said.

How's it going over there? What's up? I'm getting tired of being covered in bread.

"Well, there were bugs. Nothing at all. It's the warden's cowardice.

They all sounded distinctly uncomfortable. The jailer Paloma's words made me change the back of the truck, but it seems that their energy itself is not so vigorous.

In fact, they were even enjoying the laziness of working in a secluded place.

But there was nothing to be done about that. It would be foolhardy to expect him to change all this stuff in the first place.

In any case, the merchant had packed the back of his truck with all kinds of goods. If you make a mistake, everything will start to fall apart, and it will take even more time. If you really want to check everything, it'll be a big job from morning till night.

It's already dinner time. There's no way I can take that kind of time.

One of the guards finally sat down and grabbed a loaf of bread that had been thrown on the back of the truck. It was strangely hard due to the climate, but it was still enough to fill his stomach.

My teeth sank into the dough, and before I knew it, the bread itself had disappeared from my hand. Next time, preferably something like dried meat.

The guard thought, and pointed to the back of the truck. The shadows obscured his view, but he was confident that he could easily recognize the texture of the meat.

With more effort than ever, he pushed his arm through the bread and potatoes to the back. What? No one is watching. Everyone's probably just trying to pick at their own food. If you're not careful, you'll find that some of them have already slipped out of the vault.

That's why. And only one guard saw it.

--His arm was outstretched. Long fingers pointing at you from inside the back of the truck.

The guard had no time to scream. The guard didn't have time to scream. I'm sure you'll be glad to know that I'm not the only one who can help you.

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Now for the trouble, the trouble.

I'm not sure what to make of that. I'm not sure if it's because I was covered in bread in the back of the truck, but even after I got out I had a strange smell coming from my body.

In fact, I had planned to sneak in late into the night.

I let the feeling of my flesh tightening down leave my hands and quietly hid my ears. There was not much noise around. From the sound of footsteps and voices, there were probably only two or three more people in the vault at most.

It would be easier if I could just clamp down lightly like I just did. My lips lifted involuntarily and I let out a breath. I felt a great pain in the back of my skull.

I moved my dry lips and muttered.

I'd like you to stay put if you could. It's in my nature to move more easily when I'm alone.

My cheeks fluttered involuntarily. It wasn't a complaint to myself, or to the guards who were probably hanging around.

I was simply talking to my companion who was slipping out of the back of the truck. She put on an expression of hardness worthy of that name and said.

"Did you just say something? Lord Lugis.

She cowered at the elbow as she rested her eyes on Vestalinu-Gerua, the steel princess who lightly brushed her shoulders and revealed her entire body.

She didn't say anything, but just stared at me with her lips tightened.

What's going on? Since yesterday, or maybe even before, she's been hitting me hard. She's been acting like she's challenging me.

Perhaps the reason why she offered to accompany me this time was because she had a piece of such rivalry in her heart.

It was so far removed from the cold-hearted expression she usually showed that I felt like I was watching something very strange.

Of course, I understood the reason. It was probably just her affection for Bruder that made her behave this way.

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No, you're absolutely right. As for myself, I can't say I'm a very good person. I'm not even joking. It's a normal feeling to want to separate such a person from his relatives.

Therefore, it would be reasonable to accept their sharp gazes and the emotions they spit out.

After that, without much conversation, we both kept quiet and searched our surroundings. Inside my skull, a thought was running through my fingertips, trying hard to figure out how to untangle this tangled thread.

After all, I was the only one who was supposed to go into Jail Bella. Even so, it was an option I wanted to avoid as much as possible.

If possible, I wanted to crush the soldiers who had lured me out and drive my fangs straight into the prison, which had no one left to protect it.

At the very least, I don't want to do it head-on.

This is because this ostentatious structure called Jail Bella is strangely solid, perhaps due to the fact that it was originally a relay fort between the front lines and the royal capital.

A watchtower guards the perimeter, and because the structure is surrounded by a deep water moat, the only way into the interior is via a single movable bridge.

I can see why they would want to reuse it for something when it is no longer useful as a fort. I'm sure the king who built it will be rewarded.

I'm not sure I'd like to be on the receiving end of that. I'd like to see a little more work done on it. Or a secret loophole.

But at any rate, if you can't get in the front door, you'll have to go in under the cover of darkness at best. I'm used to such methods. After all, I had a good teacher.

I bite the tips of my cold fingers lightly against my teeth, bend them, and say.

"Vestalines. The mercenaries out there don't need to worry about a single thing, do they?

In response to my words, Vestalynu replies with a bit of boastfulness in her words.

"Of course not. I don't lead troops who can't think for themselves.

I'm glad to hear that," he said, placing his hand on the treasure sword at his hip. Two footsteps are slowly approaching you.

The two footsteps are slowly approaching you, and judging by the strange irregularity of their sound, they are probably trying to carry some kind of large load. For example, too much food or alcohol to carry in their hands.

A shadow comes into view. A shadow comes into view, swaying as it walks, looking as if it were revealing its joviality. You breathe in a little, trying not to make a sound.

I was expecting them to be a very cautious group of people, since they had taken the trouble to come and check the inside of the truck. From the looks of it, they're not. I wonder if it's just a whim.

No thanks, you're welcome to stay.

The walking shadow overlapped with mine.

Instantly, the figure of the sword stretches out and pierces the shadow. I felt it suck up blood into my hand.

At about the same time, Vestalinu's battle axe split the sky, smashing the skull and jaw of the guard who was about to open his eyes and roar with a single swing. As usual, there was a heavy swing there, smashing flesh and bone and everything in between.

There were no more footsteps anywhere. There was only the distorted silence of the pantry.

So, do you have a plan on how to get here?

Vestalinu whispered. Indeed, it was only at the last minute that she decided to accompany me. I hadn't been able to explain much thanks to her.

I nodded exaggeratedly, made up my face to look as comfortable as possible, and said.

"Hey, don't worry. I'm good at playing tricks on people's stomachs.

He stroked the tip of his lips, letting his thoughts run wild in his skull. Whatever it is, you've already gotten inside their pockets.

Then all you have to do is do what you have to do. It's just a matter of whether I can do it or not.

--That's exactly what he would've done.

Yeah, that's why I have to do it too. He wiped the blood from his treasure sword and tucked it into its scabbard, stroking the white sword on his hip as if it were a counterpart.

Well, let's take the first step, shall we? I'm tired of standing still.

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