Clang...

The sound rang out as my heavy hammer descended upon the large stone in front of me. Sweat soaked the back of my shirt completely. The piece of stone I’d just broken fell beside me with a dull thud.

I rubbed the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand, squinting against the sun punishing us brightly from the sky above.

I looked around.

Sera was working a few feet away from me, the stone given to her to break into pieces was as large as mine. Merin did the same, spaced a few feet away from Sera.

What we prisoners were tasked with was breaking stones, mixing mortar, and carrying materials over to the masons and carpenters. The broken stones we gave to the masons were cut neatly by them into the shapes and amounts the architects wanted.

Considering the size of the hole dug, the material of the stone we were breaking, and the amount of space we were working on, I figured this was for a sturdy foundation, like a choir. So this was most probably a cathedral we were building here.

Good news, Kael. Your hometown’s getting a cathedral.

The workforce was well managed. Scaffolding had already been built and kept aside, ready to be used during the construction of higher floors. Masons, carpenters, stone setters, plasterers, metalworkers, all of them were here, working in their respective departments.

For all of them to be available since the beginning meant this had all been planned in advance. They’d been sure of their plan working in the great hall. Well, it was the Saint who’d decided to show up, so all of that should’ve been a given.

I watched Sera reach out to her bota bag for water, but not even a drop came out as she lifted it near her mouth.

I took mine and went over to her.

"Is this too hard?" I asked, handing her my portable water bag.

She received the bag and shook her head.

She lied.

"I’m sorry," I said.

She looked at me and frowned, her lips pressing together tightly.

"I’m not taking it," she said firmly, pushing my water bag back to me without drinking.

"Wha.." I caught it before it hit the ground. "Why wouldn’t you drink? You were clearly thirsty!"

"Why would you say sorry?" she asked, pouting.

Huh? Excuse me? Since when was apologizing a crime?

"What do you mean? Just drink it," I said, tossing the leather bag back to her.

She caught it.

"I came here willingly, not because you made me to. Hmph!" she sulked as she finally drank the water.

I smiled. She didn’t want pity.

Still, I felt bad.

Where are you, Ilya?!

"Woah... am I watching peasants slacking?" a voice came from behind me.

It was Lydia’s.

Wait a second.

"Why are you not in uniform, and how are you not working?" I asked, bewildered.

She pushed her hair back stylishly. "I was made the overseer of you peasants by the general. Now get your hammer and break some stones."

Her tone was extremely sarcastic.

"Wha... it’s not fair!" Sera protested, her lips forming a pout as she looked at Lydia.

Lydia laughed into her fist.

"Well, you should know how to use womanly charms," Lydia counseled Sera teasingly.

Sera clearly wasn’t convinced by Lydia not suffering with us. Neither was I.

I looked at Lydia like she’d betrayed the group.

Lydia sighed and finally said, "Fine, fine. I was just with that pervert as he spoke to the master mason of this project. Apparently, this will take at least two years to finish, and the same labor will be used for other simultaneously planned projects on the list."

I see. With the technology here, the labor prisoners could do was limited to breaking stones and hauling them. When the masonry work halted during winters, there wouldn’t be much work for prisoners either, so they could be simultaneously used for various projects in batches.

Good. Having more mobile options between various projects would give plenty of opportunities to sneak away.

"Well... someone’s crafty," Ilya’s voice cut in.

Finally!

I turned back to see Ilya smirking at Lydia, clearly understanding how she’d avoided the uniform.

Lydia pushed her hair back again in that same stylish motion.

Ilya was in her usual attire, tight secretary skirt and crisp white blouse.

"So, when do I get to stop breaking stones?" I asked, frowning.

"Now," she said, adjusting her glasses with one hand.

"I sneaked your four names into all the batches that are scheduled to move between projects in a way they won’t overlap. It took some time to sort through the rest gaps between batches, but it was done."

She said it with a proud smile.

I hadn’t seen Ilya this expressive in this life.

"Now I’m understanding why it’s more practical than theoretical," she added.

That’s right. If I’d told her all this at the beginning, it would’ve sounded like rubbish.

The fact that we could sneak our way to the capital of Ravencourt when four out of five of us started out as prisoners, well, three out of five now, would have sounded ridiculous. That would promote us from Sinclair’s prisoners to captives on the run, a crime that would make us wanted not just by Sinclair guards but by all other law-enforcing bodies.

Ilya then mumbled, looking sideways, "Thank you for taking this risk for the Duchess."

She said it just barely audibly.

We smiled.

"The Duchess said she can hide us until things settle, so no risk at all," Lydia assured Ilya.

"Yeah, but sti—" Ilya started, but her eyes widened suddenly.

"Wai—" she said, looking past us.

I turned to Sera. She looked at us, confused about what was wrong.

Then the voice came from behind her.

"Who are these slackers?"

The general stood behind Sera. He grabbed her hand roughly, his tongue licking his lower lip in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Can you let go," Sera said, her tone dropping to subzero temperature. Her eyes looked utterly disgusted.

"Ah... Gen—" Lydia moved toward them, but he pulled Sera closer to him.

"I can promote you like I did your friend," he said, looking down at Sera with that same disgusting expression.

"I’d rather break stones," Sera said coldly, trying to pull her hand away.

His grip tightened. "You think you’re too good for my offer?"

"Yes," Sera said flatly.

The general’s face twisted in anger. His lips curled back, showing his teeth.

"You ungrateful little—" he snarled. "You and that slacker friend of yours think you can just stand around talking all day?!"

Frost began forming on Sera’s fingertips. I could see the white crystalline patterns spreading.

She was about to lose control.

But she caught herself. The frost stopped spreading, though her hand trembled with the effort of holding it back.

"Don’t test me, girl," the general spat.

Then he shoved her hard.

"Ahh."

Sera stumbled backward and fell at my feet, her knees hitting the ground.

"General!" Ilya shouted, stepping forward. "That’s enough—"

But he wasn’t listening.

I looked down at Sera, who was slowly getting up near my feet, her silver hair falling over her face. Then I looked up at the general, who was heading straight toward me, his face red with anger.

He froze mid-step.

His eyes locked onto mine, and something in his expression shifted, fear flickered across his face.

He shuttered, his mouth opening and closing.

But then, as if to cover his moment of weakness, he quickly grabbed my head and slammed it down against the stone beside me.

Pain exploded across my temple.

"What’s with you, you bast—"

"Stop," I said, my voice calm despite the pain.

But the general was mid-sentence, cursing at me, when he suddenly realized I hadn’t been looking at him when I’d said it.

I’d been looking past him.

He turned back quickly but found nothing.

He then looked down at two women.

Ilya had tackled Lydia to the ground. Lydia had been lunging toward the general with clear intent to kill, her hand already reaching for a hidden blade.

Ilya had thrown herself at Lydia, pinning her down. Both of them had fallen hard, Ilya’s tight secretary skirt riding up slightly as she struggled to keep Lydia restrained. Her white blouse had dirt smudged across it now.

"What the—" the general started.

Ilya turned her head and looked up at him from the ground, her glasses slightly askew. Her brown eyes were cold, commanding.

"Leave," she said, her voice quiet but carrying absolute authority.

The general shuddered at the Duchess’s right-hand woman’s command. He opened his mouth, clearly wanting to say something self-satisfying to save face.

"I... I was just enforcing discipline," he muttered. "These prisoners need to learn respect."

He turned and walked away quickly, his armor clanking.

*********

Ilya sighed as she slowly got up, brushing dirt off her skirt. The fabric had twisted slightly, and she adjusted it back into place. Her blouse had a tear near the shoulder from the tackle.

"I’m sorry..." she started, looking at Rune with genuine regret in her eyes.

Rune watched Sera as she dusted off the hand she fell on. Her white hair is now dusty with the red sand below.

She saw Rune watching her and gave him a small smile, as if saying she was alright.

"You might need to find a new general candidate," Rune said to Ilya, his tone completely normal and calm as he touched the bleeding wound on his temple.

But Ilya froze.

A chill ran down her spine. Her lips parted slightly, and she adjusted her glasses with a hand that trembled just barely.

She’d heard the threat in his calm words. Crystal clear.

"I understand..."