The transport boat violently surged forward as the guards on deck channeled high-grade gale magic directly into the specialized rear thruster arrays. The gale magic manipulated the air pressure around the vessel, creating a localized wind tunnel that forced the hull to accelerate based on the precise distance of the displaced air currents, making it act like a hyper-efficient mechanical engine cutting through the dark waves. The rapid acceleration sent a jolt through my bound body, the heavy magic-dampening chains rattling aggressively against the iron floorboards as the hull slammed into the heavy sea spray. The freezing spray washed over my stolen face, but behind the mask of the beaten, pathetic street rat Keane Leon, my mind was burning with absolute clarity. This was the true core of my master plan all along.
To reach the heavily classified, subterranean third level of the Dodorant Citadel where Luke Granhart was being kept under maximum security, a standard inmate would have to spend years navigating the bureaucratic nightmare of the legal system or hope for a miracle transport. I had no intention of waiting. The only way to bypass the security protocols and force the warden's hand to grant me access to the lower depths was to completely dominate the prison ecosystem from the very moment I set foot inside the cell blocks. The hierarchy of a place like the Citadel was always dictated by raw power, and I intended to weaponize that primitive structure to its absolute limits.
To assert my presence and force the authorities to recognize me as a high-priority threat worthy of Level 3 isolation, my first objective upon entering the general population was to locate the undisputed, strongest convict in the facility and brutally dismantle him in front of everyone. Defeating the prison's reigning apex predator would instantly shatter the existing balance of power, leaving a massive vacuum that I would step into. From there, I would systematically infiltrate and seize control of the strongest criminal faction operating within the walls, using their established underground network, smuggled assets, and internal leverage to pinpoint Luke's exact cell coordinates.
By asserting total, terrifying dominance over both the inmate population and the lower-level guards, I would create an environment where the prison administration would have no choice but to isolate me or transfer me to the deepest, most secure sectors of the fortress. I would turn their own security measures against them, forcing them to walk me straight to my target. Once I was placed in the same high-security perimeter as Luke, I could easily initiate the interrogation, harvest his critical DNA sequence, and execute the final, explosive jailbreak through the fourth watchtower.
I cast one final, calculating glance back out over the midnight ocean as the boat pulled closer to the fortress. As expected, the waters were completely swarming with heavily armed patrol boats, their decks lined with guards holding ready bows and repeating crossbows.
Seeing the sheer density of their naval defense only reconfirmed my earlier plan: a surface escape was a death sentence. To survive the extraction, I absolutely had to obtain professional scuba gear from somewhere inside this fortress. Breathing underwater was the only way to stay submerged long enough to navigate the deep sea currents and reach the mainland sewer intake. The sharks patrolling the base didn't scare me, even without my magic, my base vampiric physical traits would let me tear them apart if they got too close.
The sweeping beams from the watchtowers continuously sliced through the night sky, scanning every square inch of the perimeter. But because the ocean dropped off into a pitch-black abyss directly beneath the Fourth Watchtower, they wouldn't be able to track a submerged diver in the deep, dark water. My only real point of anxiety right now was a silent prayer:
"Please let this backwater city lack magnetic or mana-resonance scanning technology." I thought
If they had sensors capable of detecting the three iron paperclips currently resting in my stomach, they would purge my system, and I'd lose my only key to these magic-dampening chains.
Suddenly, the transport boat groaned as it docked heavily against the stone platforms of the Citadel's aquatic intake sector.
"Move it, rat! Get up!" a guard roared.
Before I could even adjust my footing, a rough hand grabbed me violently by the iron collar, dragging me out of the boat and slamming me onto the cold, damp stone pier. The heavy chains clanked sharply against the ground, echoing in the cavernous, stone-carved docking bay.
I choked back a fake gasp of pain, letting my head hang low as I was hauled to my feet. I looked up through the strands of Keane's hair.
There it was. The Dodorant Citadel.
The massive, oppressive stone walls stretched up into the midnight sky, radiating a cold, inescapable aura of absolute authority. The trap had officially closed around me. Now, it was time to tear it apart from the inside.
They shoved me violently forward, the heavy iron chains rattling loudly as I was forced toward the inner courtyard. I kept my eyes scanning the perimeter. Just by looking around, the security here was suffocating; dozens of elite, heavily armored knights stood at absolute attention, guarding every corridor, archway, and major choke point of the Citadel with glowing mana-spears and heavy broadswords.
As we passed beneath the massive, spiked iron portcullis of the main gates, I glanced down at my clothes. A wave of irritation washed over me. My brand-new navy blue blazer and trousers, perfectly tailored and crisp just hours ago, were already completely ruined. Because of the relentless baton strikes, aggressive shoving, and muddy boots kicking me down onto the docks, the fabric was torn, stained with dirt, and covered in scuff marks.
"Twelve silver coins, I wasted twelve silver coins on a pristine outfit just to have it wrecked for the sake of the act." I thought bitterly, clenching my jaw.
But there was no time to mourn the wardrobe. As the heavy iron gates slammed shut behind us with a deafening, echoing thud, the reality of the infiltration settled in. I took a slow, deep breath, pulling the cold, damp, and sterile air of the facility deep into my lungs. The scent of stone, copper, and suppressed magic filled the corridor. I was officially inside the belly of the beast.