Chapter 29: The Stranglehold of Darkness
At that critical moment, while the Ravencroft representative scanned the crowd with eyes as cold as blades, Edward felt a pressure mounting inside his head—like a second heartbeat that didn't belong to him. Then came the whisper. It wasn't a sound striking his ear, but a thought planted directly inside his skull.
"Master... listen to me." Edward's body stiffened for a second, but he kept his expression flawlessly composed. "I am Tola." The voice was clear now, deep, as if rising from the bottom of a vast well. "No time for hesitation. I will cast darkness upon this place. Head for the river... turn your face and Silas's toward it. Walk without stopping, and at the first window overlooking the water, jump. I will follow you later."
Edward didn't turn to look for the source; instead, he stepped closer to Silas as if they were arguing, whispering near his ear without moving his lips: "The river. Now. At the first chance." Silas didn't ask why; his eyes simply gleamed with instant, decisive realization.
Then... the torches went out. Not one by one, but all at once, as if a giant hand had closed around the light and strangled it. A thick, heavy, unnatural darkness descended. It wasn't merely the absence of light; it was the presence of something else, something terrifying. A noble screamed, tables crashed, and the clanging of armor echoed. Even the sounds felt distorted and muffled, as if the walls were swallowing the echoes.
Outside, the guards at the gates froze; the blackness was so absolute they could no longer see their own hands. In the heart of this chaos, Edward moved first with calculated steps, guided by the cold breeze coming from the river, with Silas right behind him. A man collided with them, and they shoved him aside without a word. A side window opened with a faint creak amidst the noise, and the cold night air rushed in. One moment of hesitation... then they jumped. Their bodies hit the dark water with force, vanishing beneath the surface before any clear sound could rise above the mayhem.
Inside, darkness wasn't the only thing that had changed. Tola stood in the center of the hall, his eyes glowing with a faint red hue barely visible in the gloom. He stretched his hand toward the heavy doors, and they opened with an incomprehensible smoothness. Outside, the men with the gold were waiting for the signal, and they immediately began pulling the wagons silently toward the back passage leading to the other riverbank, where no gates or chains hindered them.
The exit was organized like a surgical operation: a chest, a wagon, a shadow, and then disappearance. After the last man left, the doors slammed shut again, and the lock returned to its place as if nothing had happened. Inside, the guards stumbled and collided with each other in panic. When the first flame was finally lit... they found no one. No gold, no slaves, and no Edward. Only a heavy silence remained, and a certain feeling that the darkness hadn't been a natural occurrence—but a declaration of war