The Prison Break Team, Relics, and Ruins

Kiara's head throbbed.

It was all because of Ian, the cheeky new brat who had arrived in the prison not long ago, and the bizarre phenomenon he had just pulled off.

He had cast magic while locked inside mana restraints. What was more, it was a terrifying, unheard-of spell that reduced a grown man to a babbling idiot. And after pulling that off, the sheepish line he'd muttered was the real kicker.

"Um... he won't remember anything for about an hour, so please don't worry..."

He had just casually unleashed something that dangerous on the Warden? And it actually worked?

The Warden was a man whose body had been fortified through magic circuit surgery and physical enhancement. Granted, lacking talent, he was merely a half-baked wizard who could barely scrape together Tier 1 magic. Even so, he was leagues above an inmate clamped in suppression gear.

Was that even truly magic?

No matter how hard she looked, not a trace of a magic circuit could be found on Ian's body. To cast a spell while bound by mana restraints, one would have to be at least a Tier 5 master. If Ian had been that extraordinary of a wizard, he would never have been dragged to a hellhole like this in the first place.

Which meant...

The unknown power Ian wielded was remarkably similar to magic, yet fundamentally different at its core. She remembered the viscous, clinging sensation she had felt during that brief glimpse. It was deeply unnerving, but at the same time, she saw a glimmer of hope. If those damned restraints didn't affect him, their odds of a successful prison break would skyrocket.

The true nature of that grotesque power didn't particularly matter right now. Therefore...

"Ian... there's something I need to show you. Follow me."

Kiara made up her mind. She had to recruit this maknae, toward whom she felt an inexplicable, growing sense of closeness.

Man, this is awkward...

Kiara had been acting strange ever since I cast that spell in the Warden's office. The Warden's 'Collapse' status would wear off in an hour at most. When I told her that, Kiara spent a few minutes rummaging through his office, then seemed to resign herself to something and dragged me out. She took my wrist without a word and led me through the corridors.

Right on cue, a blaring voice crackled over the loudspeakers from the central watchtower.

—Work shift begins! Work shift begins! As of this moment, all inmates are to...

We headed straight out to the yard and began our labor. Kiara still took over my share of the workload as usual, and our Bond Level had definitely gone up after that incident, but...

...Why isn't she saying anything?

Sneaking glances at me every few seconds, she looked like a roided-out squirrel walking on eggshells.

Since our Bond Level had reached Level 2, the probability of Kiara betraying me converged to zero. Whatever she was wrestling with in that muscle-bound brain of hers, 'betrayal' wasn't on the table. She wasn't going to snitch and scream, "This bastard cast magic while wearing restraints!"

Then what was the problem? Did I jump the gun?

Maybe the Warden never actually intended to harm me. Maybe he was satisfied just humiliating Kiara, and planned to pat me on the shoulder and say, "All right, get out of here!"

In other words, the Warden and Kiara trading blows and acting out was a routine occurrence. And in that staged WWE match, I had intruded out of nowhere and slammed down a spell like a total psycho.

Yet it wasn't a stretch to think inmates were treated with surprising care here. They fed us, didn't whip us while we swung pickaxes, and gave us free time outside of work shifts. Remember when I had that seizure right after transmigrating here? Back then, a guard who clearly looked like an officer barked:

"You fucking idiots! I told you never to touch these people!"

The inmates seemed to be treated as valuable resources of Berdal Prison. But resources for what?

There's only one answer.

Labor. Those tunnels carved out by the sweat and blood of prisoners. There was something beneath this prison island, and the Warden and the guards wanted our manpower to excavate it.

Of course, I could be wrong. On my very first day, they ruthlessly cut down an inmate trying to escape. If every single body were precious, they would've subdued him and broken his spirit to keep him digging.

Hmm, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠beats me.

Still far too little information. After grinding her affinity to Level 2, Kiara had gone completely mute. Enough tip-toeing around; maybe I should break the ice first—

Clang, clang!

"Shift over!"

The call echoed from the central watchtower. Lost in thought, the time had flown by. Just as I resolved to speak to Kiara—

Grab.

"......?"

"Follow me."

Just like earlier, Kiara seized my wrist and marched off toward somewhere. The disparity in physical strength was so overwhelming that I was practically dragged along behind her.

Ow, that kind of hurts.

"Ah..."

Catching on quick, this roided-out squirrel pulled my wrist and scooped me up into her arms. A bridal carry. A frail wizard with Strength 0 stood no chance of resisting.

Question one: What was the purpose of the prisoners' 'labor'?

Question two: Was I really the only inmate plotting to escape?

All the pieces fell into place inside the cafeteria storage room.

"So... you're saying there are ruins down below?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"And everyone gathered here is planning a prison break?"

"That's right."

"Are we the only members?"

"The rest were hopeless, so I dumped 'em."

Kiara beamed brightly as she answered me.

"Are you seriously okay with this? What if this little bastard rats us out?!"

A beastfolk girl named Karen—sharp-eyed, with fiery red hair and feline ears twitching atop her head—tapped her foot in irritation.

"She must have her reasons. A reason why this kid is an absolute necessity. Right, Kiara?" Brun, a dwarf standing at my waist level with a composed brown beard, grunted in response.

I recognized both of them. In the game, various races existed alongside humans. Brun was a dwarf, and Karen was a cat beastfolk.

"Um, Ian. Could you show them?"

While I was busy eyeballing Brun and Karen in fascination, Kiara made a cautious request. I could read the room immediately. Kiara had reached the 'Trust' phase upon hitting Bond Level 2. While she trusted me unconditionally, the other two certainly didn't. In fact, their faces practically screamed that they resented some rookie getting ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shoehorned into their escape team through pure nepotism.

......

The Abyssal Grimoire remained silent even as I looked at Brun and Karen. In the game, you couldn't form bonds with just any NPC. It was reserved exclusively for core figures driving the episode. That was why I needed to prove my worth, and Kiara was staring at me expectantly for that exact reason.

Outside, it might be different, but in this prison, every inmate was fitted with mana restraints, leaving them completely powerless. Yet for reasons unknown, I was the exception. That alone was more than enough justification to bring me onto the squad.

But who do I shoot?

Naturally, my spell required a target. Firing it into empty air wouldn't do a damn thing.

"The truth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠is, I can use magic. Anyone care to take a hit? It won't hurt."

"Wh-wha-wha... what?! Magic?! Has this kid lost his damn mind? ...Kiara! Is he for real?!" Karen freaked out.

Well, she wasn't wrong about the crazy part. Kiara gave a grave nod.

"Hard to believe, but it's true. I saw it with my own eyes. Ian, hit me with it."

"Alright, here goes—"

Just as I was about to cast, Brun thumped his chest and stepped in.

"Hold it! Shoot me instead. Looks like you're fixin' to drag this scrawny brat into the crew, and I don't particularly mind. If you say he's legit, that's good enough for me. It's a pain in the ass anyway, so blast me and sort out the explanations amongst yourselves."

I did as told.

"This might sting a bit."

The pitch-black tome, visible to my eyes alone, fluttered open. Its pages rustled as an uncanny aura billowed out like smoke.

Mental Collapse.

There were no flashy effects, no dazzling spectacle. Brun simply froze stiff where he stood.

"......"

Unlike the Warden, he wasn't drooling or groaning. I guess the symptoms vary from person to person.

Inhale... exhale.

As I breathed in the scent of the Ambrosia Petal with quiet satisfaction, a stunned gasp slipped past Karen's lips.

"Holy crap... it's real?!"

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had officially secured my spot on the Berdal Prison escape team.

What were these 'ruins'?

I'd been wondering for a while now. Just what in the world were they that drove the Warden to go this far?

"Wait... you don't even know what the ruins are?"

"Ian has amnesia, Karen."

"Amnesia? Since when?"

Despite her prickly attitude, Karen's mouth moved at a mile a minute.

"Ian, right? Do you at least know about the Labyrinth?"

"The Labyrinth...?"

I probably know way more about it than you do. But why bring up the Labyrinth now? I thought it vanished a hundred years ago.

"Ahem! Listen closely. Before I got dragged into this dump, I was a scholar specializing in the Labyrinth. Hearing this directly from me is a rare privilege, you hear?"

Karen launched into an enthusiastic lecture.

In short, ruins were essentially personal fortresses created by ancient wizards who plagiarized the Labyrinth. Inside them lay mysterious magical artifacts that originated from the Labyrinth a century ago. Finding just one meant striking it rich—an instant ticket to turning your life around.

Okay, got it. That raised a question.

That ruins existed beneath Berdal Prison was known to the Warden, known to Kiara, known to Karen, and now known to me. Even Brun, currently petrified on his feet, knew about it. That in itself was bizarre.

If these ruins were treasure troves overflowing with priceless magical items, it was natural for the Warden to know. After all, the very reason this prison was built in such a godforsaken wasteland was because of the ruins. The state must have dispatched the Warden here, telling him to take the prisoners and dig!

Tools don't need thoughts. Nor do they need knowledge. Why would mere prisoners swinging pickaxes need to know that ancient ruins lay beneath them?

How on earth did these inmates find out?

Kiara chewed on her lower lip, hesitating.

"I... used to be the Warden's comrade."

"Whoa."

For an inmate, that was a truly shocking backstory.