In the dungeons of the First Inquisition, there is a small and dark cell where even the most senior jailers are unwilling to give the prisoners a second glance.
A human body, with hardly any intact flesh remaining, lay quietly on the cold ground. The only evidence that he was still alive was the slight rise and fall of his chest.
One eyeball was gouged out alive, and where the fingers were, only bloody scars remained. With each breath, bloody foam flowed from the corner of his mouth, and maggots crawled in every wound.
A faint sound of gravel breaking came from underground. At first, it was just a small crack, which then slowly widened into a hole.
A short, stout man covered in dirt crawled into the cell, then turned around and pulled up another tall, thin companion as well.
The short, stout man poked the body on the ground with his finger and called softly, "Mr. Tristan, Mr. Tristan!"
"Could he be dead?" the tall, thin man said, scratching his head.
The short, stout man frowned, about to say something, when the groans coming from the ground filled him with joy.
"He's not dead yet! Help me up!"
The two men hurriedly helped Tristan sit up. He opened his only remaining eye and weakly asked them, "Who are you?"
The short, stout man patted his chest and said, "Lord Rachel sent us to rescue you."
Upon hearing that familiar name, Tristan managed a faint smile on his scarred face: "Did Mia send you to rescue me?"
“Mia?” The short, stout man exchanged a glance with his companion and said in confusion, “I remember I just said Lady Rachel.”
The tall, thin man shook his head: "Don't waste time talking to him, get him out of here! The guards will be here soon!"
"I can't leave..." Tristan's sudden words startled the two rescuers.
The short, stout man squatted down anxiously and said urgently, "You're not leaving?! Are you planning to stay here and wait to die?!"
The tall, thin man said in a harsh voice, "See! That's why I said before that we shouldn't have come to rescue the church people at all! I really don't know what Lord Rachel was thinking?!"
"Shut up!" The short, stout man turned and glared fiercely at his companion. "The leader's decisions are never wrong!"
Tristan listened to their conversation and said softly, "You don't understand. If I just leave like this, I might save my life, but those vultures in the church will use my escape to harm more people, including kind people, those who helped me, and my master—Bishop Abel..."
The short, stout man leaned closer to Tristan and growled in a low voice, "At a time like this, you're still thinking about others?! Do you know you're going to be burned at the stake next week?!"
Tristan seemed completely unconcerned: "I know the stake is set up in the center of Papal Square, and I've heard that tens of thousands of people will come to watch the execution."
"Since you know that, why did you...?"
“You may not understand, but for humanity, there are things more important than wealth, power, and life.” Tristan looked with his only remaining eye at the firelight in the corridor outside the cell and said with a smile, “That is the truth.”
The tall, thin man sighed heavily and patted his companion on the shoulder: "Let's go, there's no way to persuade this guy. If we don't leave soon, the patrolling guards will be here..."
The short, stout man was still somewhat unwilling to give up: "Mr. Tristan, you may not know how much effort Lord Rachel put into rescuing you. You should know that getting someone out of the Inquisition in the Papal States is harder than climbing to heaven..."
Tristan slightly raised his head, glanced at the man in front of him, and said in a low voice, "There is a secret pocket sewn into the lining of my jacket. Help me get the contents out of it."
The short, stout man followed the instructions and found the other person's hidden inner pocket, from which he took out a teardrop-shaped earring.
By the firelight, Tristan looked at the earring with tenderness in his eyes and said softly, "Please take this piece of jewelry to Mia Evandrin for me."
"Mia Avandelin?"
"It's the Rachel you're talking about."
The tall, thin man suddenly pressed his ear to the ground and said urgently, "The guards are coming! We have to leave right now!"
The short, stout man carefully placed the earring into his pocket and said to Tristan again, "Sir, after this, we're afraid we won't be able to help you anymore."
Tristan looked at the two people in front of him and said in a low voice, "Please help me convey a message to Mia."
The short, stout man tucked his lower body into the hole, leaving only his head sticking out as he looked at Tristan: "Pass on a message? What is it?"
"Please help me tell her: the thing I regret most in my life is that I didn't have the courage to break through that wall and free her from that cage..."
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Todd's soul space, the courtyard garden of the research institute.
"It's quite rare that you would think of meeting me here." Rachel looked at the flowerbeds around her, full of blooming flowers and vibrant spring, and said with a smile to the figure sitting on the bench with his back turned.
Todd turned around and looked at Rachel, holding a dozen beers in one hand and shaking a few boxes of braised food in the other.
Rachel smiled and sat down next to Todd, opened a can of beer, popped a braised peanut into her mouth, and said contentedly, "This is what life should be like."
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