"What?"
Upon hearing those words, Pentheus couldn't help but rise angrily from his throne, lashing out at the commander of the Imperial Guard.
"What are you all doing? Can't you even watch over a mere hundred or so prisoners? They're all sick and weak, old and frail!"
Listening to the king's rebuke, the returning commander of the Imperial Guard also wore an expression of grievance.
"Your Majesty, this really isn't our fault. By the time we got to the dungeon, the prison doors were already open, and the jailers were lying around as if they were drunk and unconscious. Then, in a blink of an eye, those prisoners vanished before our very eyes, leaving only a pile of handcuffs and shackles that had fallen off by themselves in their cells."
"If they've escaped, then go find them! Go catch them! The families of many heretics are still in the city; they can't have gone far!"