Grant me Your Grace Chapter 49

Shadow struggled to keep pace despite the faint glow of his firefly lantern lighting their path, while Hissin moved through the darkness with unnatural grace—as if he could navigate these tunnels blindfolded.  

 

Yet the torture had taken its toll. Hissin occasionally paused, his breath ragged.  

 

“…Are you alright?”  

 

Hissin answered only with silence. Even the strong painkillers Shadow had brought couldn’t fully dull the pain.  

 

This uncharacteristic weakness made Shadow wait patiently as Hissin steadied himself.  

 

After what felt like hours winding through the maze-like passages, Hissin finally stopped and pushed hard against a rusted, slippery ceiling panel.  

 

Sand poured through the gap, followed by a glimpse of star-studded sky. One by one, they slipped through the narrow opening.  

 

‘Haaah.’  

 

Outside, Hissin inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with crisp desert air—a stark contrast to the mold-ridden dungeon. 

 

For a moment, he imagined the scent of figs in the dry breeze before opening his eyes.  

 

“Where are the Night’s Lions now?”  

 

The Night’s Lions—agents of chaos across the continent. Capable of reducing nations to ruin overnight without a trace, earning them the moniker ‘Devil’s Locusts’.  

 

Shadow answered without hesitation, “Tonight they sack Mobh for supplies, then hide near Baran.”  

 

A slow smile curved Hissin’s lips. 

 

‘Perfect.’  

 

He donned the cloak Shadow handed him and turned toward the capital.  

 

✨

 

Just past midnight, guards at the northern gate stifled yawns, spears tapping the ground to stave off boredom—until unfamiliar footsteps approached.  

 

Instantly alert, they crossed their spears at the two hooded figures.  

 

“Identify yourselves!”  

 

Hissin remained silent, offering no credentials. Suspicion flared as one guard tightened his grip.  

 

“I said—!”  

 

Shadow lowered his hood. The guards stiffened in recognition.  

 

“Shh…”  

 

A finger to Shadow’s lips silenced them. They bowed hastily.  

 

“Open the gate.”  

 

The guards hesitated at the second figure, but Shadow cut in:  

 

“I vouch for him. Any objections?”  

 

“N-none, sir.”  

 

One guard shoved aside his doubtful companion and unbarred the gate himself.  

 

As the cloaked pair disappeared inside, the hesitant guard grumbled:  

 

“You just ‘let them in’? What if there’s trouble?”  

 

“Relax. It’s ‘him’. And with tensions this high, playing hardball gets us hanged.”  

 

“How bad ‘is’ it?”  

 

“You wouldn’t know—you’re new to the capital. The whole damn court’s walking on eggshells. Officials brawling over positions, the temple in uproar over the High Priest’s arrest, the imperial family panicking about losing divine favor… Last month, some devotees tried storming the palace with stones! The whole royal guard had to mobilize.”  

 

“Figures. It’s always us foot soldiers who pay the price.”  

 

Grumbling, the soldiers heaved the gates shut behind them.  

 

Hissin and Shadow slipped unnoticed into the capital’s underbelly, avoiding the main thoroughfares. 

 

Baran’s capital was divided—the Imperial District at its heart, surrounded by ten concentric rings of slums pressed against the inner walls.  

 

Closer to the walls meant deeper squalor. Here gathered society’s castoffs—peasants driven from farmlands, former convicts, the desperate and damned.  

 

Though untouched by plague or famine, these outer rings were already crumbling. 

 

Rag-clad beggars haunted every alley, hollow-eyed children wailing at doorsteps. While provincial territories received famine relief, these slums—technically part of the capital—would starve last.  

 

If the Imperial District was a gilded lantern, the outer rings were the darkness beneath—like scum clinging to the rim of a glass overturned in the sea.  

 

One step beyond the palace’s glow revealed the empire’s rotting core. 

 

Yet the Emperor noticed nothing, too busy drowning in blue lotus and women’s arms each night.  

 

“One could argue rebellion is inevitable,” Hissin mused.  

 

Shadow hesitated. “You truly believe the Crown Prince will revolt?”  

 

“You doubt it.”  

 

“As first heir, he still lacks full allegiance from central nobles—including the temple. Turning them all against him would be… unwise.”  

 

“He has strong allies in the frontier.”  

 

“Only General Abashi’s support maintains this fragile balance.”  

 

Hissin’s eyebrow twitched at the name. 

 

“Abashi? That one from—”  

 

“The very same.”  

 

Hissin nodded. Shadow’s logic held weight—yet with plague and famine spreading hourly while the Emperor spiraled into incompetence, rebellion wasn’t a matter of ‘if’, but ‘when’. 

 

And not necessarily from the Crown Prince.  

 

“We return tonight.”  

 

“As you will.”  

 

Leaving the crumbling capital behind, Hissin retraced his steps. 

 

Arriving in the city gates precisely as the guards changed shifts, he and Shadow slipped through the momentary gap in security, scaling the walls with practiced ease. 

 

Shadow then guided them through hand-dug desert tunnels back to the dungeon’s hidden entrance.

 

From his robes, Shadow produced the faint glow of a firefly lantern once more, its flickering light casting their silhouettes against the cavern walls as they navigated the labyrinthine passages. 

 

Finally, they reached the deepest chamber of the underground prison. Hissin picked up the still-loose bar from the floor and stepped back into his cell.

 

“Still pathetically lax,” he remarked, sliding the bar back into place. 

 

Not a soul had noticed his absence—the so-called ‘most secure prison’ living up to its name in irony alone. 

 

It was understandable. With only one exit and complete darkness without torches, the dungeon’s maze-like corridors were designed to be inescapable even for veteran jailers. 

 

This very reputation had bred complacency among the guards, blind to the rot festering within their walls—much like Baran itself.

 

“Exercise caution,” Shadow warned. 

 

“Not just the Crown Prince—the entire situation grows more volatile by the day.”

 

A faint smile touched Hissin’s lips. 

 

“Save your concern. No one here can easily kill me. Focus on preserving yourself.”

 

“You needn’t worry.”

 

As Shadow turned to leave—

 

“The princess.”

 

The question halted Shadow’s retreat. A cold silence hung between them. Understanding, Shadow simply nodded.

 

“I trust only you.”

 

“The honor is mine.”

 

With a fist to chest, Shadow vanished into the light.

 

Left in darkness once more, Hissin’s crimson eyes gleamed with renewed intensity. He stared into the endless black, waiting patiently for the coming storm.