Under the Mask

The squeaky sound of the iron door echoed within the deep dungeon, and the cold, hard clinking of chains once again pierced the eerily silent air. The dimly lit cell had only a narrow little window for light to pass through. Thick, old cobwebs by the window hung loosely, adorned with a few droplets of dew, like crystal-clear teardrops.

Elwin was rudely pushed back into the cell by a soldier, his body harshly slamming against the cold stone wall, the instant pain seemingly awakening him to his reality. He sat in the corner of the cell, staring at the process of the cell door slowly closing. The heavy clunking sound of the iron door made his heart leap, as if reaffirming his predicament.

Against the cold stone wall, the cruel tone of the masked person from earlier resonated in Elwin's mind, along with her inscrutable gaze. However, he knew he couldn't give up because of this. He had to find a way out, he had to escape with the mysterious box.

Elwin recalled the path he was taken along to the interrogation room. Despite its twists and turns, he tried hard to remember each corner, the length of each stretch, and the stone carvings that seemed similar but were each unique. He knew that this could be his only hope. As long as he remembered these details, he might be able to find a way out.

Though his surroundings were bleak, the fire in Elwin's heart had not been extinguished. He clenched his fists tightly, gazing into the abyss of darkness ahead, his heart filled with resolve and courage. He knew he needed to prepare, to wait for the right moment to successfully escape.

The sound of the soldiers' footsteps gradually disappeared in the dark corridor, leaving only silence in the cell. Elwin's gaze shifted from the cell door to the other side of the cell where the old man Sok was seated. His eyes sparkled with a gentle glow under the dim light, full of deep concern.

"The one who interrogated me was a masked person," Elwin started, his voice steady but unable to hide the deeply concealed tension.

Upon hearing Elwin's words, Sok frowned, his eyes filled with worry and deep melancholy. "The person in the mask? That must be Raven Darkholme." His voice was low and heavy, like distant rolling thunder, deep and eerie. "She is the current leader of this fortress. Don't underestimate her because she's a woman, she is ruthless and cunning. You need to be careful."

Elwin heard Sok's words, sensing his worry and melancholy. He knew that Raven Darkholme was a significant threat to him, but he could not back down.

"She asked me about the box, but I did not tell her the truth," Elwin continued, his voice weak but filled with determination. "I told her that I wanted to prove my innocence through combat in the arena, I think she will agree."

Elwin's words startled Sok. He looked at Elwin, his eyes revealing admiration for the young man. His courage and determination showed his tenacity and perseverance.

Elwin held his hands tightly, the small palms concealing tremendous resolve. What he faced might be death, but he was not afraid. He knew this was his only way out; he had to be strong.

Sok slowly nodded, his eyes full of admiration and relief as he looked at Elwin. He knew that this young man, even in dire circumstances, could maintain rationality and determination. Such tenacity and courage were what he respected.

"Well done, Elwin, you did right," he approvingly said, then turned serious, "But you need to prepare for the days to come, both physically and mentally. We need to find the right time to escape this place and certainly take that box with us."

Lian returned to the interrogation room, the interior light dim and serene. Facing him was Raven Darkholme, seated in the shadows. The fireplace behind her blazed brightly, reflecting on her armor, making it appear even more stern.

The mask was gently removed by her, like unveiling a layer of mystery. Her beautiful face gradually revealed, clear lines, deep eyes, all revealing her toughness and determination.

There was no sign of fatigue or laxity on her face, but rather, she appeared more vibrant and strong. Her eyes were full of determination, as if no difficulty could shake her resolve. This was her, the leader of Rek's fortress, Raven Darkholme.

Each of her movements, every glance she gave, exuded an unrivaled determination and authority that made one dare not defy. Her eyes were like deep pools, shimmering with a stern light. "What's your take on this?" His voice was cold and authoritative, like a stone shattering the sky.

Lian pondered for a moment before carefully saying, "My lady, it seems that the lad truly intends to escape via the gladiatorial arena's secret passage according to Sok's plan. However, despite having sent people to search the arena, we've found no entrance to the secret tunnel. We could try to extract information from the lad through torture, but it seems that his will is quite strong; I'm afraid it may not be effective."

Lian's words were like drops falling onto a still lake, causing subtle ripples. Raven Darkholme listened quietly, her eyes sparkling with deep thought. It appeared that she was plotting a new strategy, one that could uncover the truth.

Raven Darkholme stared silently ahead, seemingly weighing something in her mind. Finally, she nodded slightly, her voice low and firm: "Agree to let the lad duel."

This decision surprised Lian. He looked at Raven Darkholme wide-eyed and said hesitantly, "Lady Darkholme, won't this be risky? If the lad escapes, it may be hard to discover Sok's secret."

Lian's words echoed in the room like snowflakes falling into fire, raising smoke. Yet, Raven Darkholme's expression remained unchanged. She sat quietly in her chair, still as a sleeping statue.

"No, it's when you have bait that you catch a big fish," she finally said slowly, her voice filled with an inscrutable meaning, giving the impression that everything was under her control, and her real thoughts were hard to decipher.

Raven Darkholme sat quietly in her chair, her eyes fixed on the box in her hand, never moving. Then, she sighed softly, the sound like a gust of wind sweeping through an ancient forest, full of deep thought and unpredictable severity.

"It seems it's time for me to take a walk," she said slowly, each word heavy, causing a tremble in one's heart.

Upon hearing this, Lian's face changed slightly. He quickly bowed his head and replied solemnly, "Understood, Lady Darkholme, I'll prepare immediately."

He knew that once Raven Darkholme took action personally, things would become extremely tricky, even potentially leading to a bloodbath. However, he also knew that he couldn't hesitate or resist, he could only obey and carry out Raven Darkholme's orders.

As Lian's figure gradually disappeared at the entrance of the interrogation room, he suddenly heard Raven Darkholme's steady and calm voice from behind, seeming to pierce his heart. "Lian, keep a close eye on this young man. He may know more than he's letting on."

Upon hearing these words, Lian paused slightly, his previously determined strides faltering. He turned around, looking at Raven Darkholme, his eyes reflecting a mix of complex emotions. However, he did not say anything, just nodded silently, taking to heart the leader's words.

He turned around again, slowly walking out of the interrogation room and closing the heavy iron door. In his heart, Raven Darkholme's words were like a rushing torrent, clear and profound. He understood the leader's intentions, and also his next task. He had to observe Elwin more closely and uncover the truth hidden behind him.

Inside the interrogation room, Raven Darkholme sat alone on a wooden chair, flipping the mysterious box in her hand. Her eyes were fixed on it, as if trying to find some clue from this small object. However, her thoughts gradually left the box and turned to the confident young man from before.

Elwin's face appeared in her mind, a face full of confidence and determination. She remembered his eyes, a fearless, resilient, and firm gaze, so unique among the countless people she had encountered.

She found herself in deep thought, revisiting their brief conversation, thinking about the young man's face, his confidence. This feeling was so fresh to her, causing a ripple in her otherwise calm heart.

Raven Darkholme was a seasoned warrior. She had seen countless faces, countless eyes, but very few had left such a profound impression on her. She didn't know what this feeling was, but she knew it was special, something she had never felt before.

Raven Darkholme gently put down the box in her hand, closed her eyes, and tried to think more deeply, to understand this young man, his resilience, and the secret hidden behind his seemingly bright but actually profound eyes.