Otto Pasi was awakened by a burst of noise.

He opened his heavy eyelids and looked around – the candle in the candlestick had burned down to the bottom, the thin flame making the room appear very dim.

In the dungeon, it was impossible to see day and night, and candles were his only measure of time. Roughly every three hours, they would be replaced, along with the plate of food in front of him.

But that was at the beginning.

Now, whether it was candles or food, the time it took for them to be delivered was getting longer and longer, and sometimes he would wake up hungry and find the cell still pitch black.

How long had he been locked up here? Otto held his forehead and shook his head, trying to clear his mind. The prolonged confinement away from the light had left him mentally and physically exhausted, especially waking up in pitch darkness, which made him feel a sense of helplessness, as if he had been forgotten by everyone.

But he had to live.

Because the fate of his father... and even the entire Losi family, was in the hands of Anpien.

Otto propped up his weak body, turned over and got out of bed, slowly walked to the bars – in addition to replenishing the plate and water jug, he also hoped that the guard could give him a scraper. His beard, which had not been shaved for a long time, had grown all over his cheeks, leaving grease and residue on his face every time he ate, which over time naturally emitted an unpleasant smell, like moldy and rotten orange peels. If they were worried, they could shave him themselves.

After all, he was a nobleman, and the requirements for his appearance should not be refused.

Then Otto heard voices talking outside the iron door.

"What were those people doing just now? The eldest son of the Pasi family is locked up inside!"

Judging from the volume, the speaker did not intend to whisper, and seemed not to care about being overheard at all.

"Tricks and mockery, that's what clowns do."

"It's crazy, if these acrobatic troupes dared to offend the Count's son at other times, they would probably become fish food at the bottom of the river the next day. They are just a group of homeless people with no status!"

"You also know it's at other times. Would the eldest son be locked up in the dungeon at other times? Isn't it those guys' tricks that His Majesty likes to watch now? If the Lord of Dawn hadn't given his approval, I don't think they would dare to do such a thing."

"Bah, you're just guessing."

"I'm just saying it casually, believe it or not. By the way, what can you do if you don't believe it, go and change the big shot in the cell's dinner?"

"Well, forget it... it's just a few mouthfuls of spit, it won't kill anyone." As he said this, a series of keys clattered against each other.

"Yeah, if that's what His Majesty wants to see, aren't you just making trouble for yourself? Go ahead, I'm still waiting to collect the plates."

The iron door made a sour grinding sound, and the jailer walked in with a plate of food.

"Yo, sir, are you awake?" Seeing Otto leaning against the bars, the other party seemed a little surprised, but the embarrassment on his face was quickly concealed, "Just in time, eat today's dinner. I'll change the candles tomorrow, the chief steward forgot to send the new ones over."

Otto didn't reply – a great sadness welled up in his heart, and he even forgot to ask for a shave. Although it was only a few words, he could already deduce the truth of the previous noise from the conversation between the two. Did the acrobat troupe's clown touch the delivery man, and then, with the intention of pleasing Anpien Moa, spit a few mouthfuls of saliva into his food?

This shame made his cheeks burn as if they were being baked by fire.

The jailer didn't care about his answer, changed the plate and left the cell quickly – although the furnishings and decorations in the room were as exquisite as a Duke's mansion, the dull sense of oppression made anyone unwilling to stay here for long.

As the footsteps faded away, silence enveloped Otto.

For a moment, he even wanted to shout out loud, to scold the other party for his dereliction of duty, to denounce Anpien's neglect... but he ultimately didn't do so.

Because it was meaningless – the former would only make the next replacement come later, and the latter might be exactly what the "old friend" wanted.

As for the dinner used to humiliate him, he didn't even want to touch it.

Otto couldn't help but wonder if everything he had done was correct.

Just as he was about to return to the bed, his whole body suddenly trembled – in the corner of his eye, the oatmeal in the plate had unexpectedly turned into a bowl of black water!

The eldest son of the Pasi family rubbed his eyes and slowly moved to the plate, cautiously picking up the oatmeal.

It was not his illusion, nor was it the shadow produced by the faint light, but the surface of the porridge had indeed turned black, like viscous ink.

In an instant, a flash of lightning flashed through his mind.

Acrobatic troupe, clown, tricks... Could it be – all of this was arranged by that person?

"Yokou said you used to be an ordinary acrobat, is that true? How did you meet His Majesty Roland?"

"Just a coincidence. As for why His Majesty would look at me, it's probably because my acrobatics were pretty good."

"Oh? Can you demonstrate?"

"No problem, let's do the simplest squid spitting ink."

Otto stared at the oatmeal blankly for a moment, then suddenly plunged his fingers into the bowl! After groping for a while, a slightly rough texture came from his fingertips.

"This... how did you do this? Why did the water suddenly change color?"

"Not yet, look at this gauze, isn't there nothing on it? Now I'll put it in the water to soak it, and then dry it with fire, guess what will happen?"

"There's nothing there... uh, wait, that's... words?"

"Can you tell what's written?"

"Let me see, this is – your name?"

"That's right, Hill Fox, that's my name."

Otto gently pinched the rough object and slowly pulled it out of the porridge – it looked almost transparent, and it was difficult to distinguish even when it was directly soaked in the oatmeal. Only when you rubbed it with your hands could you feel the existence of this gauze.

He held his breath and quickly walked to the candlestick, unfolding it little by little.

The faint black water stains began to fade, and the candlelight was already flickering.

Hurry... hurry... hurry... hurry, he shouted anxiously in his heart, the swaying shadows seemed to envelop him from all sides, and what he held in his hand was the only light in this world.

The moment the handwriting appeared, the candle went out.

Darkness engulfed the entire dungeon.

But Otto couldn't help but chuckle softly.

He held his trembling shoulders, stuffed the gauze into his mouth, and then crawled back to the bars, swallowing it with the porridge.

The warm current rolled over his throat and internal organs, filling him with strength. But more than the oatmeal, it was his heart that was warmer.

Drinking the oatmeal so silently, a tear rolled down from the corner of his eye.

His perseverance had finally not been in vain.

There were only a few words on the gauze, the handwriting was delicate and flamboyant, and carried a familiar childhood flavor.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here."