Fire Mage-Chapter 692: Key

Chapter 692: Key

The bald guard’s eyes widened.

"No way... I did hear him crying sometimes, begging Elder Luna to release his family from a curse."

"Can you take me to him?" Charles asked.

"He’s locked up at the far end. Even though he’s a Rank-5 Mystic, Elder Luna drained his vitality with poison. It’s a miracle he’s still breathing after all the torture."

"We can’t take you to him right now," said the bald guard, glancing ahead. "But maybe when our shift ends, we’ll find a way."

"Quiet now," he added. "There are patrols nearby—we shouldn’t draw attention."

They finally reached the bottom of the stairs and stepped into a dim, elongated corridor. The air was thick with mildew and despair. Iron-barred cells lined both sides, whispering tales of silence and suffering. Occasional groans and murmurs drifted through the gloom.

Chains clinked with every step, deepening the heavy atmosphere. Charles passed by prisoners—some haggard and defeated, others silent yet defiant.

At last, they stopped before a cell at the far end. Shrouded in shadow, the guards unlocked the heavy iron door and gestured.

"In you go. Don’t worry—we’ll recommend you to the jailer for decent food. Just don’t get on his bad side and you’ll be fine," said the blond guard reassuringly before locking the door behind him.

"I’ll be waiting," Charles said evenly.

The door slammed shut. The metallic clang of the lock echoed like a final judgment, leaving Charles alone in darkness.

He examined the bleak confines of his cell. A faint light filtered in through a small grated window, casting a thin beam on the stone bed. The air was stale, dense with silence and the weight of despair.

"This place holds more than just criminals," Charles murmured, sitting quietly on the bed.

He chuckled softly. "Strange... they didn’t even try to confiscate my artifacts."

Most of his artifacts were stored safely in his space ring. Only Grace remained at his waist, cleverly disguised as a Common Rank weapon. Even the Patriarch hadn’t noticed its true nature.

After a moment’s thought, Charles released his wisdom power, letting it ripple outward like a silent wave. His senses stretched across the underground prison, examining the energy signatures of each inmate.

There were twenty prisoners.

But one, far at the end, drew his focus like a beacon in the dark.

The man had flowing white hair and a skeletal frame, bound tightly in chains. His body was a patchwork of wounds, burns, and blisters. He was barely conscious—amber eyes half-lidded, brows thin and unkempt. His every breath seemed a battle.

It was Oswald Raven.

In a blink, crimson flames wrapped around Charles. He vanished from his cell and reappeared inside Oswald’s, standing by his side.

"I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner, Grandfather," Charles whispered, conjuring a blue flame in his palm and gently hurling it at the old man.

The flame enveloped Oswald, who barely managed to lift his head before it reached him. Pain faded. Wounds closed. Burned skin flaked away to reveal new tissue beneath. Though the poison still lingered in his blood, the flame had done enough to ease his agony and restore his breath.

Ten minutes passed before the blue fire faded.

Oswald’s eyes finally focused on the young man before him. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"C-Charles...? How did you—cough—how did you come here?"

"I let them imprison me," Charles said calmly. "For killing Martin Nightwind. But once I learn the truth about my father and your situation, I’ll walk out of here—and drag them through hell for what they’ve done."

Oswald’s eyes widened, a sudden flicker of suspicion flashing through them.

"Don’t trust anyone from the Nightwind Family, Charles," he said quickly. Then his gaze sharpened. "Hoho... trying illusions now, are we? Thought you could trick me again?"

Without warning, Oswald spat at Charles’s face.

"You think I’m easy to manipulate, bastard?"

Charles blinked, stunned.

’He thinks I’m an illusion? And the reason for his imprisonment... it isn’t even related to Martin? There’s more to this... much more.’

"I didn’t want to do this, Grandfather," Charles muttered, wiping his face. "But you’ve left me no choice."

He cast [Burning Thoughts].

Oswald tensed, about to speak—but then his expression went blank, his thoughts seized mid-sentence.

Fragments of information trickled into Charles’s mind.

A single phrase stood out like a whisper in a storm:

"They’re after the array cracking code key of Ringer Demiplane."

"What is an Array Cracking Code Key? Who created it, and for what purpose?" Charles pressed on, his voice calm but probing.

More information poured into his mind, and his eyes widened in surprise.

The Array Cracking Code Key is a detailed map of weak points in the Array Circle that blocks entry into the Ringer Demiplane. To dismantle it, one must master the Wisdom Skill known as [Rune Eyes]. And the one who created the Code Key—was Harry himself.

Charles narrowed his eyes and asked again, digging deeper into the memories that had long haunted him.

"Diego sent Harry to uncover the secrets of the ’Wisdom Church’ skill... but he betrayed them? I still don’t get it. Why would Harry betray the Nightwind Family—and why hand the Code Key to the Raven Family?"

His thoughts churned with unease as the next set of memories unraveled.

Harry discovered something else hidden within the Array Circles at the Demiplane’s entrance. A warning, carved by the original creator: Do not break the Array—doing so could unleash disaster. But Diego, the Patriarch of the Nightwind Family, was obsessed. Blinded by greed for Eddie’s legacy, he ignored all caution.

Left with no other choice, Harry entrusted the Code Key to the one person he truly believed in—Raven. Raven kept the secret hidden... until Diego cast the ’Dream Curse,’ trapping the entire Raven Family in endless slumber. Under pressure, Oswald made a difficult decision: he traded the Code Key to Diego. But he didn’t anticipate Diego’s treachery. The moment he stepped inside, Diego imprisoned him. Since then, Oswald has waited—waited for Rachel to find a way to set him free.

Charles blinked in disbelief.

A spy from Withering Shadows... working for Rachel?

He muttered slowly, "I think I finally understand."

One last question echoed in his mind.

"Where is the Code Key now?"

It’s with Rachel? That explains why she’s stayed in the Ember Kingdom... and risked everything to help. With her background, even the Nightwind Family wouldn’t dare touch her.

He still didn’t know how the two had become so close—but their bond impressed him.

"Hmm... besides the Truelords’ motive, I’ve learned everything I needed," Charles murmured.

He unsheathed his longsword, its edge gleaming with reddish energy, and slashed at the iron chains binding Oswald.

The chains shattered, scattering metal fragments across the cold stone floor in a chorus of metallic clinks.

"What was that?"

"Sounded like it came from the last cell."

"Someone, inform Elder Luna!"

Guards’ voices echoed from the corridor, followed by the thud of boots rushing toward the noise.

Oswald stirred, blinking away the haze, and stared at Charles in confusion.

"W-Who are you?" he asked, voice trembling.

Charles gave him a tight smile. "Keep your eyes open, old man. I’m getting you out of this dungeon."

Turning around, he sheathed his sword and raised his palm. Thin, invisible strings emerged and snaked toward the iron bars like slithering serpents.

They coiled tightly, then bent the bars outward with a screech of strained metal, creating a gap wide enough for a person to slip through.

Charles stepped out calmly.

Ahead, more than twenty soldiers in iron armor charged down the hallway, weapons ready. Among them were the bald guard and the one with blond hair.

One tall soldier pointed his spear at Charles.

"Who are you? Kneel and surrender now!"

He took a step forward—but stopped. His limbs refused to move.

"W-What...?" The confusion in his voice turned to fear.

Invisible strings coiled around his neck, tightening like a noose.

"H-Help!" he gasped, looking around—but the other guards stood frozen, faces twisted in panic.

Each one of them felt it—the sensation of being puppets on unseen strings, their bodies completely out of their control.

The muffled cries grew louder as the strings around their necks pulled tighter, cutting into their skin.

"C-Charles? Why are you doing this?" the bald guard stammered, dropping his sword.

Charles ignored him. His eyes scanned past the immobilized guards and locked onto two figures walking toward him—Elder Luna and Ekemir.

The moment Elder Luna saw the state of the guards, her gaze sharpened. She recognized Charles immediately—but the invisible force holding the soldiers stunned her.

No mana... no wisdom power... Then how are they paralyzed? These guards are Rank-3s, some even Rank-4s!

Her expression darkened. He’s only a Rank-4 Mystic... isn’t he?

"Charles Nightwind," she called out, her voice firm, "what is the meaning of this?"

Charles turned to her and smirked. "This? Just a small demonstration of my abilities. I didn’t come here to play your little games—I came to make sure my grandfather was alive."

Ekemir stepped forward, frowning. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Charles said, voice low and edged with confidence, "that I possess abilities far beyond your understanding. Now, let’s talk."

Elder Luna’s calm exterior cracked slightly. She glanced at Ekemir, who nodded cautiously.

"Speak," she said. "But you’re still within our territory."

Charles chuckled. "Oh, I’m quite aware of where I stand. But let’s not pretend you’re the ones in control."

With a thought, he tugged the strings.

The guards screamed as the invisible wires sliced through flesh. Blood streamed down their necks, staining their armor red. Eyes filled with horror stared at Charles, silently begging.

Elder Luna’s composure shattered. "Stop! Please! These are innocent people!"

Charles’s smile turned cold. "Innocent?"

He pointed at the nearest guard. "How many people have you killed?"

The guard opened his mouth to reply, but Charles answered for him.

"Fifty-three."