Asa rubbed his neck and woke up to find himself lying on a pile of musty hay. A mouse quickly jumped from his foot and disappeared into a crack in the corner of the wall.

Looking up, he saw that three sides of the walls were made of large blocks of blue stone with only a couple of small ventilation holes, slightly larger than a fist, allowing in some dim light. On the other side were wooden fences as thick as an arm, with several more outside. It was a cold and gloomy dungeon.

Just a moment ago, he was in the magnificent Duke's palace, but now he found himself in a prison cell. The stark contrast left Asa feeling confused and dizzy. He shook his head and tried to remember what happened, but it only made him more confused.

Was it because the knight suspected something between him and his fiancé? Or did he think Asa caused his fiancé's injury? Asa carefully filtered his own words in his mind, but there were no loopholes. He had already handled the story about the swamp on his way to the capital. Was it the knight's own assumption? Then he would have to speak to the Duke himself.

Suddenly, Asa heard strange noises from the adjacent cell, where a man and a woman were gasping and moaning.

Before he could figure out what was happening, the door of the dungeon was kicked open with a loud bang. A skinny jailer rushed in and headed straight for the cell with the noises, shouting and kicking the wooden fence on top of it, "Get out!"

After a few hard groans from inside, a slightly chubby jailer slowly walked out, pulling up his pants.

The skinny jailer shouted, "What's going on? Weren't we supposed to switch shifts? You were supposed to come first!"

The chubby jailer replied, still lingering on his words, "You're late. It's already past the shift change. I was getting anxious waiting for you."

The skinny jailer was still yelling, "Damn it, I've never seen you work so hard during your free time. Even if I'm a few minutes late, you complain for hours. But now that you have to go back, you want to stay here and enjoy yourself. Why should I help you clean the pot?"

The fat guy remained calm and unhurried, "Forget it, since it's already done, there's nothing we can do about it. Whether you do it or not, it's up to you. If you don't want to do it, just wait until she's released."

The skinny guy became more and more furious, "Damn it!"

Asa approached the wooden fence and spoke to the two jailers outside, "I want to see Duke Mlak." He was thinking about how to explain the situation to the Duke.

"See your mother's xx!" The skinny guy suddenly turned around and kicked Asa's chest without warning.

The sound of bones breaking was exceptionally clear in the quiet dungeon. Asa's still-fragile chest, with a few ribs already broken, was kicked again and collapsed. As he fell backwards, his head hit a protruding stone on the straw and he passed out.

The two jailers heard the crisp sound and saw the prisoner fall to the ground without moving. The fat guy quickly opened the fence and came over to check Asa's pulse. He exclaimed in horror, "Oh no, he's not breathing! His ribs are broken and it seems like his heart has stopped."

The skinny guy was also surprised by the power of his kick but pretended to be calm and shouted, "Don't panic! What's the big deal about a dead prisoner? I've told you before, I'm very skilled in martial arts. Ask anyone who served with me."

The fat guy looked at the skinny guy in horror and said in a trembling voice, "This prisoner is a spy that the Duke's Mansion just sent over. We were told to keep a close watch on him. He was caught by Baron Clowes himself and may be interrogated again."

The skinny guy was still reveling in his heroic kick, but when he took a breath, he began to feel uneasy. After all, there had been a lot of trouble with pagans and spies recently, and killing a spy might lead to suspicion that they were spies themselves and were trying to cover it up. Moreover, the Baron was known for his severity. The skinny guy's voice dropped a notch, "Let me think about it."

Not long after the two jailers had just finished their arrangement, Knight Clowes arrived.

"Escaped?" The knight's face was even paler than the color of the blue stone on the wall.

The two jailers, holding their heads and necks, replied with a life-threatening voice: "He said he was badly injured and asked us to find a doctor for him. He is an important prisoner you caught, and we were afraid he would die, so we went to see him. How could we know that he suddenly knocked us unconscious and ran away?" To prove their loyalty, they pointed to the other cells and said: "You can ask other prisoners, they all saw it with their own eyes." The entire dungeon echoed with half-dead proof.

Claudius's eyes burst out with almost murderous light, and he stared at the two jailers and said, "You must not move from here until I come back." He turned around and rushed out of the dungeon.

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It wasn't until the sound of his footsteps disappeared for a long time that the skinny guy breathed a sigh of relief and expressed dissatisfaction in a disdainful tone, "What's the point of showing off? It's just because he was born in the Elni family. If I were born in that family, I would have been a general at his age." Looking at the fat man still trembling with fear, the heroic spirit in the knight's eyes just now was revived. He patted the fat man's shoulder and said, "What do you think? You said you wanted to handle the body yourself. It would take time and it is easy to be discovered. Why not just give it to old man Sandru directly? He can solve our problem much faster. If you did it yourself, you wouldn't have made it in time."

The fat man was still trembling and his voice was not very clear, "His eyes were so scary."

The skinny guy said with a lot of saliva, "I told you earlier that these young masters like to show off, just because they rely on their family's power to scare people. If it were an ordinary person, I could have kicked him to death with one foot." The fat man echoed without thinking, still in a daze.、

Whether they were talking vigorously or listening intently, the two of them stood there without moving.

It didn't take too long, and even their legs weren't sore yet, but Claudius had already arranged the search operation of the Royal Guard and returned to the prison.

"Has anyone talked to the prisoner here?"

"Not that we know of." The skinny guy couldn't meet Claudius's gaze and looked at the wall behind him. The fat man just stared at the ground and trembled.

"Has anyone talked to the prisoner here?" Claudius repeated the question, as if asking himself. The two jailers didn't dare to answer.

"Okay." Claudius seemed to have figured something out and made up his mind, nodding slowly.

"Everyone makes mistakes, and even if you do, try your best to make up for them. Regret and blame are useless. Don't you agree?" Two prison guards who were riding on horseback now had less gloomy faces. They were no longer that terrifying pale color, and there was even a hint of warmth in their eyes. The words spoken by the knight seemed to be forgiving and comforting them. This made them feel relieved, and the skinny one hurriedly replied, "Yes, yes, we will do our best to make up for it."

"Good, that's what you should say." Claus put his hands on the shoulders of the two prison guards, which made them feel completely honored. The fat one was no longer afraid and felt that this handsome and amiable young nobleman was even more worthy of respect than the statues in the church. The skinny one also admitted from the bottom of his heart that this rich kid was probably a little higher than himself.

"Pong." A muffled sound echoed through the dungeon's air.

Two bodies, one fat and one thin, lay together on the ground as if they were close friends. Blood and brain matter mixed together, making it impossible to tell them apart. The people in the nearby cells could hear the screams.

Knight Klaus looked sternly at the screaming people and scolded them in his slow and steady tone as if he were scolding a child, "What are you making noise for? They are just fulfilling their responsibilities. You also have responsibilities."

Returning to the Duke's mansion, Duke Murak remained calm even after hearing that the prisoner had escaped. He just calmly ordered to bring the prisoner's personal belongings for him to see.

Knight Klaus watched the Duke's calm expression and felt genuine admiration. He was a person who never let anyone know what he was thinking. However, the eyes that were narrowed with a hint of a smile seemed to be able to see through the deepest secrets of anyone's heart. Klaus wanted to learn this skill.

Holding a knife in his hand, the Duke looked at it carefully, squinting his eyes even more. He ran his fingers along the blade, hesitated for a moment, and suddenly asked Klaus, "What kind of knife do you think this is?"

Klaus looked carefully and answered, "It's not a weapon produced by a regular weapons factory. It's a soldier's weapon forged by an ordinary private blacksmith." He looked more carefully and continued, "It's a very good blacksmith."

"That's right. It's made by a very good blacksmith. The inclination, length, and thickness of the blade are all well controlled. Can you tell what the relationship is between the blacksmith and the user of this knife?"

Klaus looked carefully, but he couldn't see it. He had to answer, "I don't see it."

"This knife is very practical, and every part that is useful is made appropriately, but there is no trace of decoration, not even the simplest decoration. In other words, this knife is not a commodity, and it's not even a gift between friends. It seems to be made for personal use." The Duke asked, "How old do you think that soldier is?"

"Probably around twenty."

"If this knife was made by himself, he would have had to practice blacksmithing skills in his mother's womb. The person who made this knife should be his elder, probably his father." The Duke's conclusion made Klaus speechless. "The iron used in this knife is also of the best quality. How could a common blacksmith have so much good-quality ore, except if he lived near a mine that produced such ore?"

"Unless his family lived near a mine that produced this type of ore." Klaus finished. "I will send someone to investigate in Karando."

"No need. It hasn't been an hour yet. He must still be in the city. Just search thoroughly," the Duke said as he put down the knife. "Where are the chairs and cups used by that soldier?"

"I ordered them to be thrown away."

"Thrown away?" The Duke's eyes showed a rare expression of surprise. "Why?"

"I feel that leaving things used by that kind of person in the mansion is a kind of sacrilege."

The Duke stared at Klaus for a long time. Although he knew that the Duke had no intention of being angry or blaming him, Klaus still felt a little uneasy.

"You're still too young," the Duke concluded with a somewhat helpless tone. Then he gave an order: "Tell the commanders of the Royal Guards in the capital that this spy is extremely dangerous. If they find him, execute him on the spot and don't talk to him."

"Yes," Klaus obeyed and withdrew. He trusted the efficiency of the Royal Guards in the capital. Maybe that soldier was already dead by now.

"Why is he still alive?"

The first thing Asa heard when he woke up was a complaint. This kind of tone often appeared in the market. When an old lady bought unsatisfactory or inferior vegetables and meat, it would immediately appear.