Jonathan took a step backwards and surveyed his work. He had made progress, but he had no idea how much further there was to go. He would need to alter his technique from here on out. Jonathan focused on one palm, and began to create an orb of mana there, but rather than condensing it, he tried to draw it out into a bar-like shape, extending it into a rectangle. The orb started to twist, and Jonathan strained to bend it to his will. However, mana seemed to have an ideal shape in mind, which was that of the sphere. He would be able to alter it, but it would be extremely difficult.

He managed to turn it into a cube first, and then started to elongate it with his willpower, eventually turning it into a stocky rectangle that was about twice as long as it was wide. This way, he would be able to affect more surface area with his technique. Jonathan pressed the rectangle to the side of the hole, and found that it was able to cut through it with a degree of ease, about halfway in between the effects of his uncondensed sphere, and the condensed one. It was more effective than both in any case.

Jonathan used it to carve around the circle of rock, and dug a smooth channel about a foot into the sides of the wall. He then withdrew his hand, and carved out a crude handle into the front of the rock face. Digging his right palm into the side of the wall back in the room, he started to pull. He pulled with all of his might, sending pain shooting through his body. His arm felt like it was being torn off, but he kept at it. Eventually, there was a resounding crack, and the chunk of rock broke free, causing him to stumble backwards from the redirected force. The wall was cracked around the place where he had pulled, and the tunnel had been extended slightly.

Jonathan kept at this for the next thirty minutes, managing to dig almost ten feet into the wall, and as he did so, he finally broke through to the other side of the wall. There was another room over there, and it was occupied. Jonathan could hear someone panting in exertion as they battered the wall in front of themselves with their fists. As Jonathan broke through, the noise stopped, and heard the whistle of air from a high speed attack. Jonathan instantly moved backwards, just as a fist impacted the place where his hand had been.

“Hey! We’re not enemies. I am a prisoner here too,” Jonathan said, trying to placate the stranger.

“You too fight the despicable forces of Granath?” The other person said, in a deep voice. His inflection was odd, and he seemed to be quite articulate in his diction.

“Yes. Were you put here because of that too? My name is Jonathan. Jonathan Harlowe.”

“Well met, Jonathan. I am, or rather was, Prince Edgar of the Halconian Kingdom. That was back in the world of the living however. Now I am simply Edgar Lackland, a fallen noble. I could not rest while such a foul creature ruled this land, and I started a campaign against him. As fortune would have it however, nobody joined me, and I was quietly caught. I am due to be executed later this day.” Despite his predicament. Edgar seemed to be resilient in the face of his fate, and his voice did not tremble. This was not some hothouse noble, but a warrior through and through.

“The same is due for me. I am trying to break out of here. Do you remember anything from when you were put here?” Jonathan asked Edgar.

“I was wondering how you managed to break that wall. You are only around my level, yet you seem to be a bit stronger. How did you manage to break that accursed bracelet? Such things were unknown to me back in Telvaria.”

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“I used my elemental abilities. It took a while though. I will be able to spring you loose, but I can’t do it now. We need to focus on escaping.”

“Elemental abilities? That was one of the first things that I tried. How in the name of the Light did you-” Edgar began, before Jonathan hushed him.

“Not now. We are wasting time here.” He said this both to save time, as he had stated, but mainly because he didn’t want to tell the other man about his Void abilities. He had a feeling that would be foolish indeed.

“Very well. How do you plan to escape this place though?” Edgar replied.

‘When I fell down here, most of the layers above us were made out of sand. It was kept in place by some magical field, but it should be easy enough to go through if we can reach it.”

‘You mean to escape through the arena? That seems rash, even to me, a man of great bravery.”

Jonathan gave him a look, but he seemed to be speaking seriously. He shook his head, and then pointed at the ceiling.

“If you hold me up there, I can start to carve out a hole.”

Edgar nodded, and he boosted Jonathan up on his hands, using them as footholds for Jonathan to stand on. Jonathan nodded at the man in thanks and got to work, starting to carve into the rock above with his void enhanced mana. He shaved off large chunks, using the vertical alignment of the rock to use gravity against it, causing chunks to fall down. A few of them hit Edgar, but the man didn't seem to mind.

As Jonathan excavated enough space for him to place his entire upper body , he began to carve out handholds for himself and Edgar to use. He hoisted himself up by one hand, and kept working, using his prodigious strength to hold himself steady. Jonathan slowly worked his way up, until he ran out of mana, about ten feet up. Below him, Edgar had started to climb up too, and the man frowned when he saw that Jonathan had stopped.

“What seems to be the matter, Jonathan?” He asked, in his curious manner of speaking. If anything, it reminded Jonathan of the way that some people at Renaissance fairs spoke, which he supposed made sense, seeing as Edgar had come from a medieval kingdom.

“I need to wait for my mana to recharge. This is quite tough going,” Jonathan replied.

“I am sure that it is. You are carving through stone that even I was unable to do more than crack with my full strength. You must be some sort of prodigy in the realm of mana. I remember my brother. You remind me of him.”

Sensing that he might as well get to know his unexpected ally a bit better, Jonathan answered him.

“Really? In what way?”

“He was always proactive, and did whatever it took to get what he wanted. He died some time ago, and I hope that his soul is enjoying its eternal rest in the Heavens above.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Jonathan replied, a little awkwardly.

“Thank you for the kind words. However, that was long ago, and I am sure that he would not want anything to do with me now, blasphemer that I am.”

“Blasphemer?”

“I was sent to the Hells because of my stance on the matter of the Gods’ interference in the mortal realms. I would have thought that such powerful beings would be unconcerned about the words of a mere Tier 1 prince, but it seems that their pettiness runs as deep as their potency.”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow, but did not say anything. It seemed from his experience that many people within the Hells had lost their faith in the time that they had spent in this realm, which made sense. It was pretty hard to believe in gods that had sent you to hell for some petty matter. Quite a few of the people here were not here for anything that was truly evil, simply because they had offended the gods in some way. If Jonathan even got out of here, the gods would be next on his list, not last because of this, but rather because they had killed him. Such a slight could not go unpunished, not that it was really a slight, more of an unforgivable offense. The fact that he was still alive, at least in some capacity, was no excuse.