Chapter 158 The more insane it is, the more danger it conceals...
Upon arriving at the palace, braving the wind and snow, we walked through the cold outer corridor and passed by the deserted banquet hall. It was hard to imagine that a lively all-night dance party had been held here just the night before; in the blink of an eye, only empty tables and chairs remained.
Upon entering the palace, several maids approached and surrounded me. I ignored them and let them follow me through several inner corridors to another palace, where I took the "elevator" to the top floor.
The windows in the corridor were still stained with color, but the old, strange incense in the air had disappeared.
Pushing open the door to the only room on the top floor, I was surprised to find that the dusty floors and walls had been cleaned spotlessly, the carpets had all been replaced with new ones, the dusty crystal chandelier overhead had been polished to a sparkling shine, and the narrow wooden bed, which had originally been lifeless, had been painted a new bright orange, making it look vibrant.
The former sense of tomb-like loneliness, coldness, and eeriness has completely vanished.
"Where is the person in bed?" I asked a head maid.
The head maid replied, "She has been moved to another room."
"Then why do we need to tidy this up?" I asked again.
"The Duke of Yedana said that perhaps new people will move in later."
I stared at her in shock. The palace coup had happened so quickly and so quietly, completely unlike what I had encountered in the Elven Realm.
The fighting and bloodshed may have occurred where I couldn't see, quickly permeating the palace. The revelry and debauchery of the past few days seemed like an absurd prelude to this bloody battle.
The more frenzied things are, the greater the hidden dangers. Before the coup in the Westerlands, princes and princesses attended the ball in the same frenzy, only to find their fates completely different the next morning.
A chill ran down his spine, and he turned to leave the room, only to be surrounded by several maids.
"I'm sorry, Lady Lana, but you'll be staying here from today onwards," the head maid said respectfully. "We had originally intended to invite you to stay here, but since you've taken the initiative, that's wonderful."
Seeing my sudden change in expression, another maid politely said, "Duke Yedana has made sure your room is comfortable and has even cleaned it."
I felt frozen from head to toe, and my blood seemed to congeal.
“You haven’t been in the North for long,” the head maid continued. “The lords know you are innocent, so they are taking special care of you. You can move freely throughout the entire rooftop without being confined to your room, but you cannot leave the rooftop.”
They even smiled, as if I had received an unparalleled advantage. Perhaps so, compared to ordinary prisoners.
As they left, I stood in the rooftop corridor, gazing absently at the stained glass windows on the roof.
As dawn broke, I slept in the narrow bend between the hallway and the room, wrapped in a quilt. I dared not sleep in the room, much less on the wooden plank bed where Mamboya's father had lain; the whole room felt like a tomb, eerie and strange. The hallway felt like a tomb passage too, but it was still better than a tomb. So I preferred to sleep in the hallway, but it was drafty and cold, so I squeezed into the narrow bend between the hallway and the room to avoid the wind.
As the sunlight brightened, dim light shone through the stained glass windows, casting a cold and gloomy glow.
I was lying on a brand new carpet. I had dragged the carpet out of the room, folded it up, and used it as a sleeping mat, so I didn't feel cold while sleeping on it.
I sat up halfway, draped the quilt over my body like a robe, and quietly watched the dim light fall.
This is another form of imprisonment, similar to the one I was confined to in the Eastern Underground Prison, only the conditions are better.
But there's no way another Di Yaruo could appear here to help me escape.
With my abilities, it's impossible for me to climb up to the skylight. Even if I managed to climb up, I would most likely fall to my death. I've seen the exterior of this palace before; it has pointed roofs. If you step onto the roof without a safety rope around your waist, it's practically impossible to maintain your balance, and you'd fall to your death.
I couldn't possibly rush down to the top floor either; the guards stationed downstairs would definitely surround me and force me to go back with swords and knives.
I would never disguise myself at night and sneak downstairs like a thief; my every move would be under someone else's watchful eye.
what do I do?
Or should I feign madness? Every day I'd ramble on to the people downstairs, recounting the misfortunes I'd suffered since arriving in this strange world, hoping to gain their sympathy and lower their guard. But let's not even talk about whether they'd actually have any sympathy; if I kept repeating my misfortunes all day, I'd go mad before they did.
Five days have passed in the blink of an eye. I am on the verge of collapse, cursing Princess Yanni every day. I rescued you from Black Castle, why didn't you help me? Why didn't you take me with you when you left? I also curse Manberia. He was clearly in trouble himself, yet he insisted on marrying me and taking me with him. What did I do to wrong you? Of course, he helped me. Without him, I probably wouldn't have been able to save the royal city that Bernot gave me, and neither would I and Beatrice's lives.
By the way, can Beatrice save me? Judging from the fact that she hasn't done anything for the past five days, it's obvious that she can't save me.
I crouched under the stained glass window, clutching my head in anguish, feeling as if I would never be able to get out of there.
The sixth day passed, and I wandered around, searching every corner, but I still couldn't find a chance to escape.
That night, I was half-asleep with my eyes half-closed when little Manboya came to me again—no, it was Manboya's sister, Manboya.
"Don't you have superpowers? Why don't you use them to escape?" Manboya squatted down in front of me and asked me curiously.
I leaned weakly against the earthen wall. "My superpowers rarely appear anymore."
"Very few, not none."
"It requires a specific opportunity to appear."
"What opportunity?"
"Perhaps, superpowers will only appear when something related to the elves appears," I told her truthfully.
Manboya's eyes darted around. "I've heard a legend that this rooftop once held many secret prisoners, including my brother's scumbag father, you, and several elven generals. That was a long time ago, before the elves fled to the Secret Realm. The Northern Frontier was also involved in the campaign against the elves. They used despicable methods to capture several capable elven generals and secretly imprisoned them here, hoping to extract the elves' secrets, but they failed. These generals died in this rooftop."
"Really?" It sounded creepy, and my heart raced as I drifted in and out of sleep.
"This was a top-secret massacre. Several generals died horribly, their bodies cut into pieces and hidden somewhere to prevent the elves from discovering them. If it were discovered, the North would be in serious trouble and would have to pay the price for this massacre."
After saying that, Manboya suddenly disappeared.
I slowly woke up, opened my eyes, and was fully awake.
I wandered around the room, searching every corner, and finally stopped in front of an extremely cold wall. The room didn't have a heating system, but because it was enclosed on all sides, it wasn't too cold inside, and the walls were warm, but this wall near the door was extremely cold.
I found a snow shovel in the corner of the corridor; it must have been left there a long time ago. There's a rooftop terrace outside, which was probably used to shovel snow, but the small door leading to it is now completely sealed off and locked firmly with several thick iron chains.
I started scraping at that extremely cold wall, making a loud noise that startled me, but I scraped even faster because the "guards" downstairs would hear it and come up quickly.
Strangely, although the wall was extremely cold, it was very easy to scrape off the ash. I had already scraped off several large pieces and was about to scrape off a few more when five or six guards rushed in, took away my shovel, and searched the room thoroughly, taking away all heavy objects or sharp objects that could be used as tools.
I was left sitting alone in the empty room once again.
It was late at night. I was wrapped in a quilt, leaning against the wall where some pieces of plaster had been scraped off, but I couldn't fall asleep. I counted sheep on the ceiling, counting and counting, but still couldn't sleep. Slowly, the sheep on the ceiling disappeared. I yawned, and suddenly a strange scene appeared in my mind.
Several naked, gaunt men were locked in this room. They had starved to the point of being emaciated, receiving only one meal a day, which was just thin porridge. Over the years, their once well-developed pectoral muscles had flattened, their broad chests had shrunk by more than half, and their arms and legs had become as thin as matchsticks.
They were too weak to speak or even to discuss escaping; all they could do each day was sigh or find a corner to sleep in.
One day, they suddenly had a collective premonition of danger—a special intuition of high elves—an intuition of impending danger.
"We probably won't live much longer," a general sighed.
"We're already quite fortunate to have survived this long," another general said expressionlessly.
"We will never see our loved ones again," the third general said, his voice trembling with sobs.
"The people of the North are despicable and shameless; they actually used a honey trap and drugged wine to capture us!" the fourth general cried out.
“That was a carefully laid trap, and it’s hard for us not to fall for it,” the fifth general said coldly.
The five generals sighed deeply. After a few minutes, they were exhausted and could no longer sustain a long conversation.
“If anyone else is trapped here, he might have a chance to escape,” a general said.
"Yes, if he gathers all our eyes together, sets them on fire, and then recites the incantation to summon vengeful spirits, the power of the vengeful spirits will help him break out of here and also help him eliminate the pursuers."
"But this power can only last for an hour, it's very short. When the power disappears, he will reveal his true form, and the vengeful spirit will retreat."
Before dawn, I began using any tools I could find in the room to peel away the plaster from the walls. All sharp objects had been taken away, so I smashed a vase and used the sharp edges of the shards to scrape away the plaster. The vase was placed behind the bed, covered in dust, and went unnoticed by the guards.
I dug from morning till night, and the plaster peeled off little by little. Surprisingly, the plaster on this wall was extremely easy to dig out. Although it felt cold to the touch, it wasn't hard; it crumbled at the slightest touch. I suspected it was because there was an elf's corpse hidden inside. An elf's body might be different from an ordinary person's, and being stuffed inside would soften the wall. This speculation seems a bit far-fetched, but given the wall's softness, it's quite possible.
After digging for a day and a night, replacing about ten pieces of debris, my five fingers were covered in blood. Finally, in the dim light that once again illuminated the room, I unearthed a bloodstained ear. I wasn't afraid and continued digging deeper. Gradually, I dug out more and more things, including three eyes.
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Author's Note: Thank you for reading this far! I also hope you'll check out my other works!
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