Chapter:21 Masked saviour

CREAK

"Come out of your cages, all of you," the masked figure commanded in a calm yet authoritative tone as he unlocked the iron cages lining the dimly lit chamber.

One by one, the women hesitantly emerged from their enclosures, their steps tentative and uncertain. Some of the more broken prisoners leaned on their fellow captives for support, their frail bodies barely capable of standing.

Their wary gazes fixated on the figure who had freed them. The women had seen him mercilessly dispatch the owner of the establishment, a grotesque and powerful man, and they couldn't help but regard their rescuer with both awe and fear.

The masked figure addressed their unease, his voice melodic and soothing. "You have nothing to fear from me. I was sent by the Revolutionary Army to deal with that man and to free you all. You'll be escorted to a safe place far from here.

"It's been a few hours since I dealt with the owner and his guards. Revolutionary Army soldiers should be arriving any moment to take over from me."

The figure's reassurance worked, the women's shoulders relaxed as his soothing tone eased their nerves.

'At least this damned voice has its perks,' the masked figure thought bitterly to himself, recalling how it often misled others.

As the women inside the chamber processed the enormity of their freedom, they collectively bowed their heads to the figure, who appeared no older than thirteen but had liberated them from their grim fates.

Tears streamed down their faces, soft sniffles filling the chamber as they expressed their gratitude without words.

"Don't bow to me," the figure said curtly. "I only saved you because it was an order."

Turning sharply, he made his way out of the chamber. The women followed behind him, some holding onto one another for support as they made their way toward the settlement's exit.

---

[OUTSIDE THE ESTABLISHMENT]

As they emerged into the open air, soldiers dressed in the Revolutionary Army's black uniforms came into view.

Their postures were stiff, disciplined, and they immediately saluted upon seeing the small figure approach.

"The mission is complete," the masked figure stated, his melodic voice carrying an air of authority. "The target has been eliminated along with all his guards. The women are free.

"I've deactivated the visible traps in the area, but you should proceed cautiously while searching the settlement for anything I might have missed. All the vaults have been opened, and the contents accounted for.

"I will personally deliver the documents I retrieved from the target to the higher-ups."

The soldiers, despite towering over the masked figure, nodded with utmost respect.

"Yes, sir," one of them replied. "I'll relay your orders to the rest of the squad and ensure precautions are taken while we search the premises."

The soldier's tone carried reverence, a sentiment well-earned. This diminutive figure before them was no ordinary operative.

Over the years, this individual had dismantled multiple similar settlements and even high-priority border bases of the Empire.

No matter how dangerous the mission, or how many Revolutionary soldiers perished in the field, this masked person always emerged victorious, though often with clothes torn to shreds.

Among the Revolutionary Army, he was known as the Immortal Wraith, a moniker earned through countless successful missions and an unparalleled record of survival.

---

The masked figure turned back to the soldiers. "Post scouts around the perimeter while you search. There's a chance some hidden alarm could have alerted the Imperial Army. Work quickly and leave the settlement once you're done. No need to secure this place. Understood?"

"Understood, sir!" the soldier affirmed sharply. "We'll deploy scouts immediately, conduct a swift search, and vacate the area to avoid drawing attention."

The masked figure gave a brief nod of approval before striding toward a nearby Revolutionary Army base. His pace was quick and purposeful, his mind already focused on the next step.

---

[A DESPERATE PLEA]

As he walked, his stride was unexpectedly interrupted. A petite, undernourished girl, around fifteen years old, stood in his path, her eyes filled with determination.

She was just slightly taller than him, her frail figure trembling but resolute.

"Please stop!" she called out.

One of the soldiers instinctively stepped between the girl and the masked figure, ready to intervene, but the figure raised a hand to halt him.

"I beg you!" the girl cried, desperation clear in her voice. "Please become my teacher and teach me how to become strong!"

The masked figure didn't respond, continuing toward the base without even glancing at her.

"Please!" she shouted again, louder this time, her voice cracking. "I need your help. My parents were killed in front of me, and I couldn't do anything because I was too weak. I don't want to live like this anymore. Teach me how to be strong like you!"

The masked figure stopped in his tracks, slowly turning to face the girl. His piercing gaze fixed on her as he approached.

The girl's breath hitched as he loomed closer. For the first time, she noticed the intricate design of his mask, a carved demon's face with sharp, protruding teeth.

The mask's menacing appearance, combined with the sheer power radiating from his presence, sent a chill down her spine.

"You want to become strong?" he asked, his voice calm.

The girl nodded fervently, as though her very life depended on her answer.

The masked figure observed her for a long moment before finally speaking. "I don't have time to teach you," he said bluntly.

The girl's face fell, her hopes crushed in an instant.

"But," he continued, "I can recommend you to a highly skilled instructor in the Revolutionary Army."

The girl's eyes lit up with renewed hope.

"However," the figure added, "this offer stands only if you choose to join the Revolutionary Army."

He gestured toward the soldier beside him. "Inform her of the enlistment process," he ordered.

With that, he resumed his journey toward the hidden base.

"Thank you, Mam! I will never forget your help!" the girl called after him, her voice filled with gratitude.

The masked figure froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned back to face her, his aura suddenly shifting.

The soldier beside him stifled a laugh, his amusement short-lived as the masked figure shot him a withering glare.

---

As the figure walked away, he allowed himself a moment of bitter reflection. It wasn't the first time someone had mistaken him for a woman.

Between his melodious voice, his smooth, beautiful hands, and the slender frame his mask concealed, the assumption was a common one. And though he hated the misconception, he had no interest in wasting time correcting every person who made it.

The mask, after all, was worn not out of vanity, but necessity. His face, grotesque and marred beyond recognition, was not something he wished to inflict upon others. Hearing their screams and seeing their horror was not something he cared to repeat.

He tightened his grip on the documents in his hand, his steps quickening.

'One day,' he thought grimly,'..they will pay.'