Chapter 32
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Confinement
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"There's no way that will happen."
Adella shook her head firmly. Her brown eyes were fixed unwaveringly out the window, but the faint red flush lingering at the corners of her mouth hadn't fully faded yet.
She sat with her legs crossed, pressing her hips firmly into the chair.
It was a defensive posture, as if to preempt any mishap where the carriage might jolt and send her tumbling toward me.
Her leather pants squeaked against the wooden chair.
Hmph.
I snorted and leaned back against the seat.
The unpadded chair dug into my back, but compared to Adella's ironclad defenses, it was nothing.
The cramped space inside the carriage, just the two of us in this private confines, the constant vibrations... everything was perfect, yet she gave no openings.
Whenever I fixed my gaze somewhere, she countered with her arms and hands in an impenetrable defense, staring off at distant mountains.
The carriage rattled onward across the plains. The journey to the Black Forest would take a full three days.
The first day passed without incident. I traded occasional rude jabs with Adella or passed the time gazing out the window—that was it.
And then the second day dawned, bringing trouble.
It was when the morning sunlight slanted into the carriage.
Thud-!
You have died. Reviving using a Save Point.
Remaining Save Points: 98
I opened my eyes to find myself back inside the carriage. The angle of the sunlight was identical. Adella was still staring out the window.
What the hell? What was that just now?
Before I could even process it, the ceiling burst open again.
Thud-!
You have died. Reviving using a Save Point.
Remaining Save Points: 97
This time, my head was cleaved clean off before I could even dodge.
Third revival. I ducked on instinct.
Krunch!
A black dagger slammed into the spot right above my head. The wooden floor splintered with a crack. Looking up, I saw a woman in black priestly robes dangling from the ceiling.
Her face was masked, but her eyes gleamed fiercely.
"Die."
She whispered as she swung the dagger.
You have died.
Fourth, fifth, sixth...
Death repeated. Twenty times. In a single day, I died twenty times.
That lunatic in the black priestly robes was relentless. From atop the carriage, from behind trees in the woods, even bursting from the ground—she targeted me. Her movements were swift and stealthy. Before Adella could react, she'd slit my throat or pierce my heart and vanish.
Adella panicked and raged twenty times through those deaths.
"Lord Batanias!"
Her screams echoed in my ears.
Twenty-first revival.
I didn't board the carriage.
It was too big a target.
"Captain, I want to walk. I'm getting carsick—think I'm gonna puke."
I threw a tantrum. Adella eyed me suspiciously, but when I faked a retch, she grudgingly allowed it.
"Very well. But you must not stray from my side."
She reached out the carriage window and gave orders to the escort knights.
The Roselia escort knights wore looks of What's this idiot up to now? at my odd behavior.
Is he... trying to escape? Or something pervy? A bit of that vibe.
They formed up in tense formation.
Adella stuck close by my side as we walked.
Clop clop clop—the carriage rolled alongside.
The road wasn't too rough, but it was tiring enough.
Half a day of walking like that.
Swoosh-
Boom! The carriage shattered.
"Enemy attack!"
Adella shouted, tackling me to the ground.
In that split-second instant, an arrow whistled past my ear and embedded in a tree trunk. The fletching quivered.
"Get down!"
Her weight crashed onto me. The hard leather armor, the warm body heat beneath, and the musky scent of sweat-mingled flesh assaulted my senses.
I buried my face in her chest and held my breath.
I'm alive.
After twenty deaths, I'd finally found a way to reach day three: abandon the private carriage confines, use Adella as a shield, and move amid the Roselia guards.
That lunatic in black priestly robes was probably gnashing her teeth somewhere in the woods.
The prison was safer.
I thought as I rubbed my face in the mud. At least there, the barrier protected me. This was an open field of death.
Adella rose from atop me. Her brown eyes looked down at me with concern.
"Are you all right? What scum did this!"
Her breath brushed my cheek.
I nodded. No, I wasn't. Twenty deaths—who could be fine? But I couldn't show it.
"You saved me, Adella. Perfect, except for the weight."
I cracked a joke as I stood. Adella's face flushed slightly.
"Weight? How rude."
She grumbled curtly, brushing dirt off my clothes. Her hands grazed my chest—rough, yet somehow careful.
We resumed walking. The sun of day three was setting. The shadow of the Black Forest stretched long, as if to swallow us.
A weathered signpost marked the forest entrance in the distance.
[Black Forest: No Entry]
We'd arrived at last. My place of exile, my new starting point. And where the dimension stone for the escape ending was hidden.
But the fatigue from twenty deaths weighed on my shoulders. Twenty of my ninety-nine Save Points gone already. Seventy-nine left. Plenty, yet not quite.
Without regenerating Save Points, I'd have been done for long ago.
That lunatic—who the hell is she? One of those cult high priestesses?
I recalled the woman in black priestly robes, tough to shake.
Her name was... Sia...?
Yeah, sounds familiar. From the prison?
I halted my thoughts and headed for the signpost.
The Roselia knights stood in formation. Their armor gleamed in the morning sun, but their faces were hidden by helmets.
Tension hung thick. As the Roselia escort handed me over, I caught my reflection in their silver breastplates.
Disheveled hair. Not prisoner rags, but fitting for a deposed emperor.
"We'll guide you."
The lead Roselia knight said curtly. His voice was dry, emotions stripped away—like a laborer hauling cargo.
The forest path was narrow and treacherous. Snake-like roots protruded from the earth, ready to trip, while vines clutched at clothing.
The Roselia knights silently cleared the way. Green sap sprayed with each sword stroke through the vines.
About thirty minutes in, the dense woods parted to reveal a clearing.
There stood an old stone building. Gray bricks moss-covered, crumbling walls, vine-wrapped roof. The Empire's long-abandoned 'Black Forest Watchpost'.
"This is it."
The knight nodded toward the building.
"We tidied it hastily, but it'll lack much for comfort."
Polite words, impolite intent.
Thirty minutes from the forest edge. Five days and thirty minutes from Roselia's capital.
Confinement, but they have to manage it somewhat.
I smirked inwardly. Tossed in the forest heart, I'd be monster chow or starve.
Queen Helena wasn't killing me—she was rearing me. Close enough to squeeze and torment, but alive. Precisely that distance.
Inside the building, a musty mold smell hit. The floor showed hasty broom marks, but dust piles and cobwebs lingered in corners.
A rickety wooden table and chair, a straw pallet bed in one corner. That was all.
"Guard rotations will station at the forest entrance. Supplies delivered weekly. Different knights next week."
The knight finished and left without a backward glance. The door's thud echoed in the empty building.
"Ha."
A sigh escaped me.
Adella circled the place, then peered out the window.
"Security's lax."
She muttered.
"Guards only at the entrance—nothing here. If a beast shows, we'll handle it ourselves."
She frowned worriedly. I flopped into the creaky old chair.
"Better this way. No prying eyes."
I crossed my legs and propped my chin.
"Perfect for some intimate alone time, right?"
Adella whipped around and glared.
"Not the time for jokes. The forest's aura feels off."
She was right. The woods outside looked peaceful, but an eerie tension lurked beneath.
No bird calls in the silence. Leaves rustling in the wind sounded like whispers.
I rose and approached Adella from behind, resting a hand on her shoulder.
"Relax, Captain. This was my territory once. Even the beasts will listen to me."
"Remove your hand."
Adella shrugged it off and stepped back.
"Hungry? Let's eat something."
I changed the subject, opening the supply crate. Hard bread, a few strips of dried meat, a water jug. No different from prison fare.
"At least there's plenty of blankets."
I grumbled, tearing into the bread.