I held his gaze for a moment before speaking again, my curiosity shifting from how he escaped to how he had built himself up after that.
"And what path did you take?" I asked, resting my arms loosely on my knees. "You didn’t brute force your way through all this. That much is obvious."
He gave a small nod, his expression turning a bit more focused.
"Shade Path," he said. "It fit better than anything else they offered. Everything about it is built around not being where the enemy expects you to be, striking before they even realize you exist, and getting out before anything can react. As you know it matches perfectly with me"
I nodded slowly, already seeing how that aligned with what he had described earlier.
"And your class?" I asked.
"It evolved into something... different," he said. "Not a standard progression like Assassin. The system gave me a unique class tied directly to my talent."
He shifted slightly, leaning forward just a bit.
"Void Phantasm," he said.
I raised an eyebrow.
"Sounds fancy."
"It is," he replied, a faint grin returning. "But it’s not just a name. The class basically turns my Phasing into an offensive and positional tool rather than just an escape mechanism. Instead of using it only to avoid damage, I can phase through space in short bursts, reposition mid-combat, and attack from angles that shouldn’t even exist. And my skills themselves can do that too."
"When I phase," he went on, "I’m not just intangible. I can choose when to interact again. That means I can pass through a target’s guard, re-materialize inside their range, and strike before they can even adjust. It removes the concept of distance in close combat. As long as I time it right, I decide where the fight happens."
"That’s..." I paused briefly, then nodded. "Yeah. That’s broken."
He chuckled.
"It gets worse," he added. "The class also enhances my perception during phasing. Time doesn’t slow, but my processing does. I can read movement, predict reactions, and pick the exact moment to re-enter. It turns every engagement into a setup rather than a clash."
I leaned back slightly, considering it.
"So you don’t fight head-on at all."
"Only if I have to," he said. "Most of the time, I’m already behind them before they realize I moved. And once I land a hit, I don’t stay long enough for a counter."
I glanced at his current condition, then back at him.
"And yet... you ended up here."
The grin faded slightly.
"Yeah," he admitted. "That’s the problem with abilities like this. They’re perfect against individuals... even small groups. But when you’re dealing with coordinated forces like them, with area control, detection, and layered attacks... the space to exploit shrinks fast."
I nodded.
"They forced you into a situation where your advantage didn’t matter."
"Exactly," he said. "Too many angles. Too many variables. And once they started predicting my phasing patterns..." he exhaled slowly, "...it stopped being a fight I could control."
"...Good," I said.
He blinked once.
"Good?" he repeated.
I nodded slightly, a faint smile forming.
"Means when we get out of here," I said, "we cover each other’s weaknesses."
He stared at me for a moment, and then let out a quiet laugh.
"I’m guessing you took the head-on path... Destroyer, right?" he said.
I nodded without hesitation.
"Yeah. That’s how I like it," I replied, a faint grin forming. Then I leaned forward slightly, the energy in my voice rising. "So... ready to get out of here?"
"Yeah," he said. "Let’s get to my safe zone first."
I shook my head immediately.
"Why would we do that?" I said. "No. We go up and wipe these cult members out."
His eyes narrowed slightly at that.
"Did you not notice they have someone at level ninety-nine?" he asked.
"I did," I replied calmly. "And I think if I catch him off guard, I can end him. After that, we either deal with the rest or pull back depending on how things go. But I don’t want to waste time. We need to level up fast and move forward. Lyrate should be here soon, and she already said she has a plan for this world."
Knight held my gaze for a moment, his expression tightening slightly before easing again.
"...Alright," he said finally. "If you’re confident, we do it your way."
He pushed himself to his feet and walked over to me, then crouched down near me. His hand came up to the chain wrapped around my wrist, fingers closing around the metal.
For a brief second, nothing happened.
Then his palm... vanished, as if it had slipped out of reality itself. The section of the chain it held disappeared along with it, leaving an empty gap where solid metal had been just moments before.
A second later, his hand returned.
The chain did not.
The remaining length dropped to the ground with a dull metallic sound. I looked down at it, then back at him, letting out a low whistle.
"Wow... just like that."
He smirked slightly.
"Yeah," he said. "Just like that."
Then he stepped forward and placed his hand over the lock of the cell door, his fingers settling around the metal as if testing it for a moment. The next instant, his palm slipped out of sight again, phasing cleanly through the mechanism, and when it returned, the lock gave way with a dull crack, falling apart without resistance.
"Damn... that’s way too convenient," I muttered, shaking my head as I stepped out and followed him.
Knight didn’t head back the way I had been brought in. Instead, he moved in the opposite direction, his pace steady, as if he already knew exactly where he was going. He stopped in front of another cell, placed his hand on the lock, and broke it just as easily, letting out a quiet, almost annoyed breath.
"They repaired it," he muttered under his breath.
He stepped inside and moved straight to the back wall, placing both his palms against a specific section of stone. For a moment nothing happened, but then he pushed forward, and the bricks trembled slightly before loosening and collapsing inward.
Behind them was a tunnel. Roughly dug, narrow, just enough space to move through.
He stepped aside and looked at me.
"Let’s go," he said. "This leads to another lift. It’s broken, not in use anymore. From there we can reach the upper levels and get outside."
He didn’t wait for a response and climbed in. I followed without hesitation.
From there it took us some time, crawling through the narrow tunnel as it stretched first horizontally and then sharply upward, the confined space forcing slow, careful movement as we climbed through the abandoned lift shaft. Dust clung to the air, and the metal frame creaked faintly as we pulled ourselves higher, until finally we reached an opening and slipped out into what looked like a storage room.
Sacks of grain were stacked unevenly along the walls, wooden crates filled with dried supplies lining the corners, the faint smell of preserved food lingering in the air.
Knight stepped out beside me, brushing dust off his hands before glancing around briefly.
"What now?" he asked.
"Can you take me to their commander without them noticing?" I asked.
Knight didn’t answer immediately. His gaze drifted toward the door, then back to me, as if measuring the distance, the layout, the risks involved. For a few seconds he remained silent, running through possibilities in his head.
Then he gave a small nod.
"I can."