"How long has it been?" Allesio asked quietly, his voice echoing faintly in the darkness.
"About an hour, I guess," Aamon replied, leaning back against the cool cave wall.
"We can't blast through the walls," Allesio muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. "If we do, the whole cave might collapse on us."
"And we can't go any deeper," Aamon added, "not with this suffocating darkness."
"If only we had something to burn…" Allesio trailed off, his voice fading.
The silence returned, thick and heavy. They sat together in the pitch black, with only the sound of their breathing filling the void.
"…Did we make the right choice?" Allesio finally said. "Chasing that sniper—it led us straight into this mess."
"At least now we know where they're hiding," Aamon said, trying to stay optimistic.
"I've been thinking…" Allesio began, his voice thoughtful. "That scroll—it's too important to our empire. Why did Father only send the two of us?"
"Maybe he didn't want to risk sending more people," Aamon reasoned. "He probably feared someone might steal it again."
"No," Allesio shook his head, though Aamon couldn't see it. "That doesn't make sense."
"What do you mean?"
"The scroll was stolen from the archive on a day when security was lower than usual," Allesio said. "Only a few people knew that the archive would be lightly guarded that day."
Aamon stayed silent, listening intently.
"The scroll's location changes every two days," Allesio continued. "Even with fewer guards, an intruder would've been spotted unless they knew exactly where to look."
"I think the thief was tipped off," Allesio said. "And only someone with executive-level access could've known."
"You're suggesting the traitor is one of the royal executives?" Aamon asked, his voice growing tense.
"Exactly."
Aamon frowned. "Then things can get even worse…"
"Think about it," Allesio said. "Father was told the thief was in the town of thieves. He told Advisor Tharil to assign a group of guards to us."
"But we were sent alone," Aamon realized, connecting the dots.
"Not just that—Tharil was supposedly on leave when the theft occurred," Allesio said. "So how did he return so quickly, knowing exactly what happened?"
"He is the advisor. It's his job to know these things," Aamon replied, but even he didn't sound convinced.
"He wasn't supposed to return for two more days," Allesio pressed. "Yet he came back the day of the incident. Too convenient, isn't it?"
"You're reacting too much into this, Allesio," Aamon said with a sigh.
"Sorry but I can't get it out my head," Allesio answered.
"And if what you're saying is true… our empire is in more danger than we thought." Aamon leaned his head back against the wall and stared into the black void above.
After a moment…
They heard faint voices echoing through the darkness. Curious and cautious, Allesio and Aamon crept toward the source. As they ventured deeper into the cave, a faint light flickered ahead. Shadows danced across the rocky walls, cast by figures standing just beyond the curve of the path.
"…How did the entrance get blocked?" one of the voices asked.
"I don't know. I heard some intruders entered the cave, so the master sealed the entrance to trap them," another replied.
"That damn guy, always doing things like this," the first one grumbled.
"Shh… Keep your voice down, or the master will hear you," the second warned sharply.
Suddenly, four more figures joined them.
"The master ordered us to dispose of the two men," one of the newcomers said.
"Why isn't he sending her?" asked the second man from earlier, confused.
"It's the master's order."
The six of them, torches in hand, headed in the direction where Allesio and Aamon were hidden. As they moved through the narrow cave, the two men walking in the back suddenly vanished—silently, without a trace. Their torches dropped and extinguished.
"What was that?" one of the middle men said, glancing back.
He turned only to find nothing—no sign of the men who had just been behind them.
Then, just as suddenly, two more from the front disappeared into the shadows.
"What the hell is going on!?" the leader of the group shouted.
Before he could react further, the last man beside him vanished into the darkness.
The leader froze in place, eyes darting around in panic. That's when Aamon appeared behind him and brought him to the ground in a single, fluid move, holding him down.
"Tell us what we want to know, and we won't kill you," Aamon said coldly.
"If I speak, they'll kill me," the man stammered, voice trembling.
"Not this again…" Allesio muttered, annoyed.
"Listen," Allesio said, kneeling beside him, "you were already dead the moment you joined this mess. But if you help us, I'll make sure you live to regret your choices—in a prison cell, not a coffin. Do you understand me?"
The man nodded quickly, terrified.
A moment later…
"Seriously… how the hell is this cave so big?" Allesio muttered, his voice echoing slightly through the darkness.
They were now walking deeper into the cave, torchlight flickering across the walls.
"I think this might've been an old mine," Aamon replied. "Explains the size and all these tunnels."
After some time, they noticed a faint glow in the distance. As they approached, they found a chamber lit with several lanterns. In the center stood a table with four individuals seated around it, engaged in quiet conversation.
Allesio casually stepped forward.
"Sorry to barge in like this, but would any of you happen to know anything about a stolen scroll from the Eryndor archives?"
The men stood quickly, shocked.
"How did you find us?" one of them demanded.
Allesio smirked.
"It wasn't hard. Let's just say... we had a little help."
A while earlier…
"This place is built like a damn maze," Aamon had muttered, looking around at the endless tunnels.
"You're probably right," Allesio agreed.
Then he turned back to their captive.
"Now—tell us where your boss is hiding."
Present time…
"Hey—you're that sniper!" Allesio shouted, pointing toward the figure he'd seen before.
The sniper stood up, along with a massive man towering beside her. The man held a giant log like a weapon, his sheer size casting a long shadow over the others in the room.
"Don't you think that guy's a little too big?" Aamon asked, eyes narrowing.
"Don't worry," Allesio replied with confidence. "In a place this cramped, he can't move freely."
But to their surprise, the man moved with surprising agility, smoothly swinging the log in a wide arc. Allesio barely dodged the blow, his expression shifting.
"Guess I was wrong," he muttered, rolling out of the way.
Aamon ducked behind a table, then peered up toward the sniper.
"Wait… why isn't she shooting at us?" he asked.
"She's definitely waiting for something," Allesio replied, his voice tense.
Suddenly, a shiver crawled down both their spines. A masked figure appeared out of nowhere, stepping forward with a calm but ominous presence. He wore the same cloak and mask as the summoned shadows they had fought earlier—but something about him was different. Stronger. Real.
"More of these freaking masks?" Allesio groaned.
"No," Aamon said quietly. "This one's real. And dangerous."
The masked man's voice was cold and smooth. "Why are they here?" he asked, glancing toward the others.
"One of the men we sent to kill them… told them about this location," someone answered hesitantly.
The masked one snapped his fingers.
"What did he just do?" Allesio asked, tense.
"I killed the traitor," the masked one replied casually.
Allesio and Aamon froze, the weight of what he said settling in.
"You bastard… how could you kill your own man like that?" Allesio asked, anger rising in his voice.
"Shouldn't those who betray should be eliminated?" the masked one replied coolly.
He suddenly appeared beside Allesio in a blink, his voice a whisper in the prince's ear.
"Think about it… what will you do when you find the traitor inside your precious palace?"
Allesio's eyes widened. "You know who it is, don't you?" He stepped back and drew his sword. "Tell me! Who is it?!"
Weapons clanged out of sheaths as everyone else in the room drew theirs in response.
The masked man raised a hand. "Relax. I didn't come to fight."
Both Allesio and Aamon were stunned by the statement.
"I was hired to steal this scroll and hand it over," he said, holding up the very scroll they had been searching for. "Not to kill the prince or the royal knight."
"Hand it over," Allesio stepped forward quickly, reaching for the scroll.
But the masked man smirked, tucked the scroll into his cloak, and leapt backward.
"We'll meet again soon."
In a blink, he and the others vanished from sight.
"Damn it—he got away!" Allesio clenched his fists.
"Relax," Aamon said, smirking.
"What do you mean?" Allesio asked, confused.
Aamon held up the scroll. "I got the scroll."
"What? How?" Allesio's jaw dropped.
"I used this string," Aamon said, pulling it out from under his cloth. "As he was putting it away, I snatched it with a flick. He never noticed."
Allesio stared at him, then laughed. "You sly bastard. Nicely done."
But then his smile faded. "Wait… how did he not realize it was gone?"
"He did," Aamon said, his tone suddenly more serious. "He let us take it."
A long silence hung between them.
"Why would he do that?" Allesio asked, voice low.
"I don't know…" Aamon replied. But his mind was racing. "He knew. He let us walk away. What's his real motive?"
Aamon shook his head, keeping his thoughts to himself for now. "Let's check if something happened to the entrance."
Allesio nodded, gripping the scroll. "yeah, Let's go."