As the first rays of the rising sun pushed through the small window of the underground cell, Grey leaned wearily against the bars, watching Sheryl wipe herself down while Lily shifted restlessly on his lap.
All sorts of scenarios kept playing out in his mind, each one capable of ruining their escape.
Once again, Grey was reminded that even his carefully crafted plan could collapse because of a single, insignificant deviation. With pain and reluctance, he kept forcing himself to remember that no one could foresee everything, yet understanding was far from acceptance. Their lives and their freedom were at stake.
To keep himself from sinking deeper into anxiety, the boy decided to once again check what cards he had in hand in case everything went to hell.
His mother truly was the most remarkable woman.
That day at the ball held for his tenth birthday, when she gave him and Grace small pouches called "bottomless pockets," Grey had been sincerely happy. Back then, however, he could not have imagined that this handy little toy would become his most valuable treasure once his mother was no longer by his side.
He was not foolish and understood that the item was valuable, but at the time he had not given it much importance.
Having never faced the need to survive away from his family, he could not truly appreciate it. Only now did he, with all his heart, recognize Catherine's foresight.
The space inside the pocket could be compared to a small suitcase. At first, he and his sister had stuffed it with completely useless things like toys and spare study supplies. Who could have guessed that for those innocent actions, their mother would scold them so harshly?
Very soon, she carried out a full inventory of their pockets, filling them with what she considered truly essential.
With gratitude, recalling her instructions, Grey began to sort through his own belongings.
The most valuable item in the pocket was the Arrow of Artemis, a gift from the priestess he had met during their escape from Lutece, after Grey had been turned into a cripple. This legendary-rank artifact could take the life of anyone who had not reached the level of a Sky-dweller.
Unfortunately, the arrow could only be used once. Moreover, its use would not come without consequences. It required an enormous amount of energy, something young Grey did not possess.
His mother and Cassia had reminded him more than once to be extremely careful with this item, since it would demand his life force to activate. It had even gone so far that he and Grace swore to use the arrow only at a moment of life and death, when all other means of salvation had failed.
Be that as it may, right now the arrow was useless. Just like the disassembled bow lying in the depths of the pocket.
"Silent Killer," that was what Grandpa Clark had named the bow. Its base was made from Whispering Ash, which Grey had personally found in the forest near the village. The string was crafted from the tendons of a wind wolf slain by Grace.
Each time he used the bow, the boy remembered the image of that ferocious beast, whose hide now lay as a rug in the living room. Just thinking about it, his sister had not even reached the age of ten, yet she could already fight on equal footing and even kill such a dangerous magical creature.
The weapon turned out flexible, light, and easy to handle, but its greatest advantage was its complete silence when fired. No sound, no twang of the string, even the arrow flew quietly, as if ignoring the wind.
There was also a quiver of ordinary arrows in the pocket, which Grey planned to use to eliminate the guards on the tower if they were discovered at the last moment. But he did not want such a situation to become reality.
How was he supposed to explain to Sheryl and Lily that he had a bow this whole time?
The same was true for the gladio sword and the dagger, forged specifically for him by Grandpa Clark. This was his main weapon, made from an alloy of mithril, vibranium, and tenebrum.
The dwarf had bragged more than once that these items could rival gold-rank artifacts in durability and sharpness, even though they lacked embedded enchantments.
The reason for the absence of built-in magic was Grey himself.
Activating artifacts required the user's mana. The more powerful the spell, the more energy it consumed. Grey was a cripple, so there was no point in creating such equipment for him.
This was all the weaponry at his disposal. But his mother would not have been herself if she had not taken care of other things for survival. She had always been that reckless when it came to their safety, trying to account for even the most unlikely situations.
Unfortunately, her fears had become reality.
It was precisely because of her care that Grey had a stack of magical contracts at his disposal, crafted by Grandma Albedo. The boy had no doubt in their effectiveness, after all, they were created by a witch whose power rivaled experts at the level of a Sky-dweller.
His arsenal included several talismans for temporarily boosting physical strength or agility, made by Grandma Qin Luo. A disguise kit from Grandpa Jack, which he fondly called a "cosmetic bag." A stiletto and a feather for creating runic patterns, gifted by Grandma Albedo. In special vials, there was even the blood of Constantine and Constance, though Grey had no idea how to use it.
There were also two items in his collection whose purpose he did not know, an ordinary water flask, and a set of spare clothes. And, of course, the healing potions from Grandma Cornelia, the most valuable thing in his current situation.
Originally, he had thirty minor potions, five medium ones, and three major ones.
Grey had used five minor, two medium, and one major potion for Lily's emergency treatment, and had also secretly drunk three minor potions to recover from Quintilian's punishments. The boy could not even imagine what he would have done if they had not been on hand.
Unfortunately, these potions had limited effect on a demon's body, which was clearly shown by the fact that Lily still had not regained consciousness.
Feeling the unrelenting heat of his companion, Grey could not help but recall the last item, the very one he would rather forget existed at this moment. It was his final resort, something even his mother did not know about.
A Drop of the Source of Life, given to him by the elf Celine before she left the village.
A legendary panacea capable of curing any illness.
According to ancient legends, the Source of Life lay beneath the very tree of Yggdrasil. Even the elves used it sparingly. This single drop was so valuable that the entire Thorn Kingdom would not be able to cover even a tenth of its worth, yet Grey's hesitation had nothing to do with its price.
There was a reason he had only told Grandma Albedo about it. Grey had hoped she would agree to conduct the Trial of Herbs and secretly turn him into a witcher. This treasure was meant to ease the mutation process and transform him from a helpless cripple into a true witcher.
It was supposed to be his ticket into the world of growth.
The thought of using the Drop now on Lily felt sacrilegious to Grey. To spend a heavenly gift on curing a fever? No, he could not allow himself such wastefulness. He was not that generous.
The inner conflict tore at him.
On one side was the desire to help a companion, on the other, the urge to preserve a precious resource for his own future. Grey felt selfishness and altruism clash within him, and that struggle only deepened his turmoil.
"Enough thinking about this! Lily isn't going to die! And even if she did, I don't owe her anything. She herself said she saved my life on a whim. I would've survived even if she hadn't treated my wounds… probably…" Grey thought to himself, brushing aside her violet strands that clung to her face from sweat.
"No, no, and no! I've been a cripple for ten years and I need to find my mother and sister. I shouldn't even think about giving her the Drop of the Source of Life. I'm sure she just needs a couple of days of rest to recover."
At last, his thoughts were interrupted by Gracchus, whose massive figure loomed right above him.
The overseer had come to take them out for their daily labor.
"Good morning, Mr. Gracchus," Sheryl, Grey, and even the old man who had just woken up greeted him politely.
Gracchus approached the cell, his gaze falling on Lily, who still did not wake even when they tried to rouse her.
"What's wrong with her?" he asked with a frown.
"She has a high fever. Yesterday she complained about a headache. She tossed and turned all night and only fell asleep toward morning," Grey explained calmly, as if he did not care about Lily's condition.
Gracchus noted the girl's sickly state and pushed his hand through the bars to check her temperature.
After confirming she was not pretending, Gracchus ordered, "Leave her in the cell. Today you'll do all the work for her."
Grey felt anger begin to boil inside him.
He knew that Gracchus, for some reason, treated Lily much better than the others, and normally that would not have bothered him. But now, for some unknown reason, he felt genuine resentment.
"Why does Lily always get the best of everything? Even the overseer treats her so carefully, while I get punished for the slightest mistake. I'm sure if I were in her place, I'd be sent straight to 'treatment' with Quintilian and his rods."
"I've been a cripple my whole life, a useless burden to my family and a stain on their name. I still don't even know what happened to my mother, Cassia, and my sister. Her mother is fine, I'm sure she's not some powerless succubus. I've done everything I could to help Lily! Why should I sacrifice my only hope?!"
"Calm down, Grey, calm down. You should be glad Lily is staying here. That way our plan won't be at risk. Why am I even feeling this jealousy and anger? We're both slaves. What is there to envy here?" Grey raged inwardly, clenching his fists in frustration.
Even so, none of those emotions showed on his face.
Grey obediently did as he was told.
He lifted Lily's body and laid her on the cot, then followed after the overseer, ready to face yet another joyless day.