Almost instantly, the dimly lit dungeon echoed with the sound of heavy footsteps as the cell guard, a burly man with a stern expression, made his rounds to count the prisoners. His eyes scanned the rows of cold, iron bars, his gaze lingering on each occupied cell in the dim torchlight. But as he reached Chelsea and Ida's cell, his brows furrowed in confusion, a frown creasing his weathered features.
"Where is the other prisoner?" he grunted, his voice rough and commanding.
Ida glanced up, her heart pounding with fear as she has no idea what to say. Turning to the White-haired, she still kept quiet as if asking for his help.
Also worried about Chelsea's whereabouts, he immediately came clean.
"We haven't seen her since the last rounds".
The guard's eyes narrowed, suspicion flickering i
