Holding the bloody corpse of the old maid inside the Butler's room, Lysander wore a cold expression, rejecting the brutality of what he had just done and convincing himself that he was still sane after all that had happened in the short span of a few hours.
'She was part of the kidnapping, of the ritual. She was nothing more than an illusion created by the Nightmare Spell.'
Lysander tried to push away the thoughts crawling inside his mind.
He had killed her.
Not in the heat of battle.
Not while defending himself.
He had killed her in cold blood.
'She would have screamed and reported me, or worse, killed me if I hadn't killed her first.'
Lysander repeated the thought again and again, trying to convince himself that what he had done was justified.
'I'm fine. I'm still sane. I have to be.'
Throwing the corpse against the wall, Lysander continued searching the room, hoping to find something useful for what awaited him tonight.
Against the wall opposite the desk stood a small fireplace, covered in ashes and the remains of charcoal from a fire that had gone out the night before.
Above it hung a painting, depicting a middle-aged man dressed in noble clothing, expensive gemstones decorating his attire. He had blond hair, a small moustache, and striking red eyes that seemed to pierce through the art directly into the soul of Lysander.
He stared at the painting for a few seconds.
'Qeius's master. The Pendragon's noble who owns this castle.'
A shiver ran down his spine.
'Probably an Ascended, from the rank of Qeius and the Stone Saint's record.'
At some point tonight, he would inevitably cross him, and when that happened, Lysander would either have to kill him or at least survive the encounter.
'How the fuck am I supposed to survive against someone like that, when I barely managed to deal with the Butler?'
Lysander shook his head and continued searching. He looked through the drawers, the shelves, and the desk again.
Nothing.
Time passed.
The night was getting closer and closer.
'I can't afford to stay here any longer.'
Lysander's eyes fell on the fireplace.
A long iron poker was resting beside it, meant to push the burning logs around.
He picked it up, noticing the sharp end pointed enough to pierce flesh.
'Better than nothing.'
Lysander tightened his grip around it and walked toward the door.
Opening it slightly, he looked into the corridor to see if someone was there.
When he saw no activity, he stepped outside and began retracing his previous steps, moving through the castle as silently as possible. Eventually, he reached the grand hall.
The middle path led toward the ritual.
The right path led toward the Butler's room.
And the left, Lysander had not discovered where it led yet.
He carefully approached the left corridor.
After walking for a short while, he discovered a large door at the end of the path.
'The entrance to the exterior?'
Lysander peeked discreetly.
A single guard, who seemed far more interested in the glass of liquor in his hand, was standing in front of the door.
Lysander narrowed his eyes.
'Only one guard?'
He briefly considered killing him, but it was too open here, and there was a high risk that the corpse would be discovered before he even had time to attempt something to prevent the ritual.
'Not yet.'
Lysander silently retreated.
He returned to the grand hall and headed toward the wooden staircase leading down into the dungeon.
Lysander descended the stairs, the iron poker firmly held in his hand, ready in case another guard had come down there.
Once he reached the bottom and saw nobody in the corridor, Lysander pulled out the keys he had stolen from the dungeon guard and opened the first cell.
Click.
The metallic sound echoed through the dungeon.
The prisoner inside, a young man, slowly raised his head and absently looked at him.
"You're free."
Silence.
The prisoner simply stared at him.
"You can escape."
Still nothing.
Lysander frowned, clear exasperation etched on his face.
'He has been broken mentally.'
These people had spent six days and nights locked inside those cells, waiting to be sacrificed in horrendous conditions. Even if their bodies were weakened, it could be compensated by sheer will and the effect of surprise. But if their minds were broken till no envy of freedom could be formed inside their head, then he could do nothing to help them.
Lysander opened the next cell.
"If you want to escape, follow me."
This time, the prisoner slowly stood up.
Lysander continued down the corridor.
People began leaving their cells, following Lysander with hesitant steps and fear.
Around twenty-five prisoners eventually gathered behind him.
The rest were still sitting inside their cells in the dungeon, and in the prison of their mind.
Lysander looked at the ones who were willing to live.
"I'm going to take you to the castle's entrance. It leads outside."
The prisoners exchanged glances. Some of them began whispering among themselves. Lysander didn't bother explaining further.
"If you want to survive, run when I give the signal."
Those who were willing to escape nodded. The others remained inside their cells, simply too terrified to move or because they had completely lost the will to live.
Lysander looked at them for a moment. He could understand their condition, but he couldn't save everyone.
'Honestly, I don't even think they have a chance to survive outside.'
With the twenty-five or so prisoners behind him, Lysander began leading them toward the wooden staircases, and toward the entrance at the end of the left path.
At one point, Lysander raised a hand.
"Stay here."
The prisoners stopped.
He saw that the guard was still there, clearly drunk and distracted.
'Now.'
Lysander quietly approached from the side when the guard had his head down, vomiting the liquid he had poured inside his body.
The iron poker was raised, but instead of striking into the head, Lysander struck into the chest.
'He has to make enough noise.
"AGHHHH!" The guard screamed.
Lysander pulled the weapon free, and blood splattered across the floor.
The guard collapsed, still reaching for his weapon.
Lysander waited.
The guard's cries echoed throughout the hall.
"HELP! SOMEONE—!"
Lysander struck him again, this time in the head.
Silence.
[You have slain a dormant human, name unknown.]
Then, Lysander waved his hand toward the prisoners a few meters away from him.
"Go!"
The prisoners rushed forward.
Lysander ran toward the entrance and grabbed the massive door with all his strength.
As it opened, the cold night air rushed into the castle, revealing a vast expanse of land basked into the darkness of the night.
For the first time in what seemed a lifetime, the prisoners saw the outside world and ran.
Lysander watched them disappear into the darkness.
'Now, it's my turn to run!'
He quickly moved back to the previous hall and barely managed to hide behind a massive armor statue he had previously spotted before it was too late.
He crouched down and held his breath.
Footsteps and voices resounded in the hall, coming from the ritual's room.
"THE PRISONERS ESCAPED!"
"THEY'RE OUTSIDE!"
"GO AFTER THEM!"
"SEARCH THE DUNGEON!"
Lysander carefully peeked from behind the statue.
Several guards wearing the crest of House Pendragon rushed through the entrance.
They didn't even notice him through the cracks of the armor, too focused on the prisoners.
'My plan works.'
One by one, the guards left the castle as the commotion continued outside.
Lysander waited hidden.
One minute. Then another.
The number of footsteps inside the castle slowly decreased, and the hall became quieter.
'Good.'
Lysander slowly emerged from behind the big armored statue.
His eyes moved toward the path of the ritual, the middle one.
Lysander tightened his grip around the iron poker with a resolute face, taking one final deep breath before the end of his First Nightmare, or his life.
'Success or death, it's now.'
Quietly, Lysander began walking toward the middle path.
Toward the ritual.
Toward the master of the castle.
Toward the mysteries that awaited him at the end.
————
Hello, sorry I was on a camping trip, so i couldnt write, but here is the chapter.
Pls, if you have time to write a small review of your thoughts about the chapter and if the plan of Lysander was a good idea or it wad too simple the reaction of the guards, and about the first nightmare in general or the fan fic as a whole, it would be greatly apreciated, i am trying to be better at writing and this fanfiction is a way to improve for me.
Thank you for reading!