Grappling with his opponents, Johan could only watch as the broadsword descended towards him.

This time he was being restricted for real too. It was difficult using a single arm to grapple with a disciple while also pushed by another one. However poorly trained they were, it wasn’t an easy feat overwhelming the physical prowess granted by martial aura.

Furthermore, though slightly lacking, the skill the brown-bearded disciple used made moving out of its trajectory difficult. Johan's intuition told him it was impossible to evade or block this technique.

With no other option, Johan exploded his martial aura in front of him.

Contrary to magical energy, martial aura was generated from within the body. Therefore, it could easily augment its functions but was difficult to release. Nevertheless, Johan had not ceaselessly trained for a couple of decades under a grandmaster for nothing. Not only did he expel a considerable portion of his aura, he even condensed it over his head to form a protective layer.

BAM!

The broadsword collided with the aura just over Johan's head, causing a small of explosion of sound that made the two disciples restraining him flinch.

Johan's aura got dispelled, but so did the force behind the broadsword, which harmlessly bounced back.

Johan's brain lurched from the collision and he felt a bit nauseous.

However, he took advantage of his adversaries’ lack of attendance to free himself and deliver two extremely quick and kicks to their temples, instantaneously knocking them out.

When he finished the motion, he tried to assert the position of the brown-bearded disciple, who he spotted fleeing towards the dungeon’s trapdoor.

Despite being tired from the abrupt expulsion of aura, speed was Johan’s domain. He rapidly converged towards the fleeing warden, smashing against him with the right side of his body.

The warden was sent tumbling forwards, where he lay panting, resigned to his fate. His move had sapped all his aura dry, alongside a good portion of his vitality. He could not even run very fast in the first place.

“Pheeew…” Johan relaxed after seeing that the last disciple effectively surrendered.

That was a mistake; without adrenaline pumping him up, his right hand was a sea of pain.

It was then that he noticed the cheering from the other prisoners, including the woman and the youngster who had previously been his captors.

Johan tore some fabric from his clothes and bandaged his right hand. He then used handcuffs hanging from the walls to restrain the three unconscious wardens, as well as the brown-bearded one. He locked them in an empty cell, amidst many puzzled stares.

“Why is he not killing them?” many prisoners asked between themselves.

“Ahem! Fellow prisoners! It’s time for you to regain your freedom.” Johan was extremely clumsy at addressing crowds, but nevertheless his words caused delighted cheers to those people.

With the help of the woman and the youngster, he found the keys and unlocked the cells and handcuffs of the prisoners, all the while trying to ignore the searing pain from his hand.

“What now, sir Johan?” asked the youngster. The prisoners were waiting for him to decide their course of action.

“Well, we need to escape from this place. But first, let me recover a bit.”

Johan picked up a plate of cold chicken one of the disciple wardens had left on a stool at the end of the dungeon and started wolfing it down.

Meanwhile, a paper on Markus Mayers’ desk was glowing.

A ward was broken in the dungeons!

Markus's thoughts jumped to the old monster he had captured a month before. It had taken a lot of effort, scheming, resources and luck to subdue. But it had been worth the effort, because that one was wanted by the family. The reward in merit points was something that could cause even grandmasters in the family to get jealous.

That one did have the skill to break the formation Markus had inscribed in the interior of the steel bars, which was responsible for creating sturdy instantaneous wards. However, Markus had made sure to apply magic-disabling restraints and even used a poison contraption for good measure if those were to be taken off.

Markus believed it was impossible for a mage to break free under those conditions. Furthermore, he did not remember obtaining any other captive of note. It was more probable that his experiments the past week had somehow affected the magic link.

Still, studying history had taught Markus that ignoring simple worries had led to the demise of many great men – even a legendary figure was once killed by a magic beast because they had not bothered investigating why all the food in the house was gone!

Markus was reluctant to stop the experiment, but he exited his room.

“Immediately investigate if everything’s in order in the prison. If anything’s amiss, don’t fight, but run away, raise the highest-level alarm and request for master Skullsong to gather a dozen disciples and come here” he commanded his two disciple guards. If that troublesome being had escaped, a small number of martial disciples would never be his match, however powerful they were; they needed at least himself, a master-class fighter and numbers to have a good chance in a frontal battle.

“Yes, sir!” the two guards saluted and run off at top speed.

“Sir Johan, people are approaching aboveground. At least two disciples!” the woman who was previously one of his captors anxiously called. She had her ear pressed on the underground prison's wall and said she could use the vibrations travelling through the ground to tell what was happening above.

Johan had not fully recovered, but, except for using his right hand, he could fight. The slaves had armed themselves with various improvised weapons, such as the warden’s knives, and broken chair legs and were ready to fight. None could even lift the broadswords, so they left them aside. A few had some ability with magic, although no-one else seemed to be a disciple.

Johan was ready to burst open the trapdoor and emerge aboveground leading this small mob, when he noticed a single person still inside his cell. That person was a weather-beaten old man, with a bald head but large white beard. He wore a green, dirty cloak and watched the proceedings with an expressionless stare. His tired green eyes were barely moving.

The old man's handcuffs appeared to contain complex but robust mechanisms and had no keyhole.

Combined with the fact that he was originally the only person in his cell, it was obvious he was someone important.

“Old man, who are you? Don’t you want to leave?” asked Johan. With apparently great effort, the old man slightly tilted his head and stared at Johan.

“This old man has not moved at all since brought here”, one of the prisoners explained. “He was carried by a dozen or so disciples and that Mayers scum personally locked him up. He is quite mysterious as he does not even talk. He weakly protested when we tried to break his handcuffs, so we let him be.”

“Sir Johan, they have almost reached us”, the woman anxiously interjected.

Johan hastily approached the old man. “Old man, don’t you want to break those handcuffs?” The old man slightly raised his eyebrows negatively.

Before Johan could continue, the dungeon’s trapdoor abruptly opened and Markus Mayers’ two personal disciple bodyguards peeked inside. They immediately closed it and shouting could be heard.

“It’s a prison break! Sound the highest-level alarm! Mr. Mayer’s orders. Everyone evacuate and surround the area. All of you peak martial fighters, guard the trapdoor and throw sleeping powder inside.”

“Old man, do you really want to stay behind?”, Johan asked urgently. The old man again raised his eyebrows, with an exasperated look. He seemed to need a lot of effort, even for those slight movements.

Suddenly, Johan understood.

“You're a disciple!”, he exclaimed. “And there’s an offensive mechanism on these handcuffs!” The old man closed his eyes in consent. “Old man, with such a frail body you should be a mage, right? So the attack mechanism should be a physical one?” The old man consented again.

The communication was wasting too much time, but no-one protested. Having a mage disciple with them when they charged out would be an immense advantage.

The commotion outside could clearly be heard by now. A large force should have been assembled.

“Old man, if this is a physical contraption, I am able to destroy it without harm if I slash from the correct direction. But you must indicate the place the attack will spring from, if you know it. Otherwise, we need to risk my speed versus the contraption's mechanism. I will move my hands to various places, so close your eyes when I reach the correct one.”

Johan frantically put a knife on various places over the handcuffs, however the old man only looked at him with a pitying expression. He then rolled his eyes.

Sleeping powder was being released into the dungeon from the gaps in the trapdoor, making the prisoners go drowsy and Johan grew impatient.

“No need to mock me!” Johan snapped. “I need a clue. Do something!”

The old man rolled his eyes again.

“Sir Johan, maybe that was the clue!” the youngster had come close out of curiosity and could not help but say something.

Johan, who was about to retort paused when the old man closed his eyes towards the youngster.

“Damn old man, what does this mean. Is the mechanism under the handcuffs?”

Johan had become angry with impatience, as more than half the people seemed ready to collapse into sleep.

The old man closed his eyes in consent.

“Ha-ha! So that’s it. Ok.” Johan was relieved.

Using his current frustration to more easily imagine tearing things apart, Johan used the knife he held to break apart of the handcuffs, starting from the point they touched the old man’s hand. Although no magic sprang up this time, the material was extremely hard – so hard that Johan needed to excerpt almost all his remaining aura and concentration to slash through its weakest point!

“Pheew…” Johan broke out in cold sweat, but he had succeeded.

“Son, it would be an achievement to be dumber”, a croaking unused voice emanated from the old man.

“Still, this is quite the skill you have there - I think even low-level masters can’t cut through Lonsdaleite. Although, you are not very efficient?” The old man kindly smiled as he saw Johan swaying close to collapsing.

He slowly raised a skeleton-thin hand and grasped Johan’s right arm. Johan felt relief as his mental and physical fatigue started recuperating under the guidance of the old man’s magic.

“Oh, what happened to your hand?” the old man frowned as he noticed Johan’s improvised bandaging. He removed the blood-stained cloth and lightly whistled as he examined the damage.

“Congratulations! You just earned the achievement of being dumber than yourself, son – if I was not here, you would never be able to make a closed fist again, even with that well-trained body of yours.”

The old man’s words were caustic, but the soothing energy he sent into Johan prevented the latter from feeling rage. He felt his hand itching, as joints, tendons and skin started mending into the correct place.

“Old man, you could talk all along?” Johan mildly asked.

“Son, you are indeed an idiot!” the old man replied, exasperated. “Without magic, I can't even lift a finger, much less talk!”

The old man slowly stood up.

“Now, everyone, let’s follow this idiot to freedom and hope that he does not accidentally kill himself in the process?” the old man addressed the dumbfounded but drowsy prisoners, as he released a fully-recovered Johan, who did not know whether he should be grateful or angry.

“Son, your name was Johan, right?” he whispered with his croaking voice. “As a favor, I will tell you something good; I’m Taliesin, but never call this name if you value your sanity – just call me grandpa Tali. And not in your slightest imagination degrade Taliesin as me. Now, all of you, wake up” the old man raised his hands, making a wave of light green air that washed over the prisoners and negating the effect of the sleeping powder.

Johan could not make any heads tails of Taliesin’s statement. So he just shrugged his shoulders. “Mighty nature! Son, you are dumb; did you manage to not even understand my self-introduction?”

“So, are you ready to charge out, old man? You don’t seem too steady on your feet.” Johan chose to ignore the old man’s mockery and directed his attention to a more practical course.

“Ahahahaha!” Taliesin’s croaking laughter burst out. “Not too steady on my feet, indeed! But not to worry, not to worry! As long as I have my magic I’m fine”, he smiled good-humoredly.

“Ok, then. Fellow prisoners!” Johan exclaimed. “We need to run out. Me and … old man Tali here will make a way for you, as you run off. I trust that, you have not been marked in any way?"

Everyone nodded.

"Good, then after escaping its each one for themselves. It's easier to throw off pursuit this way, ok?”

“Yes!” the prisoners exclaimed in chorus.

“Follow our lead then!” Johan decisively walked up the steps and flung open the dungeon’s trapdoor, with Taliesin close behind.