Come on, I haven't gone anywhere... Trouble with long legs came here by itself? Klein grimaced in a way that didn't match Gehrman Sparrow's persona, and nearly gasped.
The only thing that prevented him from doing so was that it would have made a noise and let "Trouble" discover his hiding place!
No longer an inexperienced Night Watcher, he quickly made a decision. He held his breath, slowly stood up, and moved to the iron gate door without making a sound, looking stealthily but calmly towards where the footsteps were coming from.
He thought that since hiding and avoiding might not work, he needed to confirm the situation regarding the danger in order to make the most appropriate choice.
With two miniature suns glowing in his eyes, Klein waited for dozens of seconds, hearing the footsteps grow heavier and clearer, accompanied by the sound of an iron door being pushed open and hitting the wall.
Then, he saw a tall figure emerge from the right side of the corridor.
This figure was nearly 2.5 meters tall, wearing black armor that covered his entire body, exuding a coldness that felt almost tangible, like a giant knight.
His aura was restrained, silent like the deep sea, and his eyes flashed with two crimson glows. He carried a long and broad black straight sword.
Clang!
He pushed open the iron door of a cell, stepped in, and turned around as if searching for something.
Hiss... Is he looking for a prisoner? He will definitely find me... Klein hesitated for a moment, considering whether he should wait for the opponent to get closer, leave the cell, and find another way out, or suddenly attack, quickly eliminate the target, and then continue hiding, waiting for the dream to end.
Judging how much time he had to think, Klein quickly untied the citrine pendant from his left sleeve and, in a voice almost inaudible to himself, began to perform divination:
"That knight is very strong."
He repeated it seven times, then opened his eyes and saw the citrine pendant spinning clockwise, with a large amplitude and fast speed.
This meant the target was a highly dangerous existence!
Without further hesitation, and with no time to hesitate, Klein used the extraordinary ability of the "Clown" to control his muscles and pull open the iron gate door without making any extra noise.
Then, while the black-armored knight was entering another cell, he quietly stepped into the corridor, hunched over, and quickly moved to the left.
In the thick darkness, he listened to the sounds behind him while maintaining stealthy and swift movement. Soon, he turned a corner and reached a double iron door that seemed to be an exit.
After trying to push and pull, Klein found that the iron door was not heavy, but it was locked from the outside.
After thinking for two seconds, he took out the key he had found in the cell, inserted it into the keyhole, and turned it without much hope.
A faint clicking sound came out, and the lock on the double iron door was released.
Even this works? Although this is a dream, a randomly picked key cannot be an important item... I was originally planning to pull out paper, turn it into soldiers, insert them into the door gap, and cut continuously, layer by layer... Klein pushed the iron door open slowly, half confused and half grumbling.
To his disappointment, behind the iron door was not an exit, but a hall piled with numerous miscellaneous items.
He casually closed the door, locked it again, and walked around the cluttered items, looking for possible doors or paths.
After a few seconds, he noticed a rather inconspicuous black wooden door in the corner, so he carefully approached it, reached out, and grasped the handle.
The scene inside naturally emerged in his mind: it was a storage room, with a full-length mirror on the right, and a figure in a linen short robe huddled on the left.
Someone? The escaped prisoner? Forced out of his comfort zone, Klein decided to take limited initiative, so he slowly turned the handle and pushed open the black wooden door.
He wanted to roughly grasp the situation in order to decide whether to escape or fight at a critical moment.
"Who?" the figure in the linen short robe asked urgently but in a low voice, filled with despair and pain.
"An adventurer," Klein replied simply.
He had already seen the figure's appearance using his night vision:
This was a man who had been weather-beaten, with deep wrinkles on his forehead, eye corners, and mouth, but his hair was jet-black and shiny without a single white strand.
His linen short robe was simple and ancient, his expression twisted with pain, and his rare pure black eyes were filled with undisguised surprise and confusion:
"Adventurer?
"How did you get here?"
Klein maintained a certain distance from the man, who seemed both young and old, and stood at the door, looking at him and saying:
"It is necessary politeness to introduce yourself before asking others."
As a "Faceless Man," with just a brief glance, he had already grasped the man's features—aside from the contradiction between hair color and wrinkles, there was a ferocious old scar on his cheek.
The man was stunned for a moment and glanced worriedly at the hall:
"You'd better close the door. We cannot be caught by that demon, or else..."
His facial muscles twitched visibly, as if recalling something unpleasant.
"Demon?" Klein muttered, reached back, and closed the black wooden door.
The man breathed a sigh of relief and smiled bitterly:
"Sorry, I was indeed impolite just now.
"My name is Leo Mast, a ascetic monk from a religious organization."
"A religious organization? It doesn't seem like a believer of one of the Seven Gods." Klein noticed a problem from his words.
If it were an ascetic believer of one of the Seven Gods, he could have said it directly. Even a priest of the Sun Church or a bishop of the Storm Church would not immediately start a fight when meeting in such a dangerous place.
Leo Mast laughed self-deprecatingly:
"Yes, I worship the original Creator. He is the omniscient and omnipotent existence, the root of all greatness. He is the beginning and the end. He is the God of all gods!"