Soulbound: Dual Cultivation

Chapter 553: Escaping

The noise around them did not disappear, the screams, the crashing bodies, the guards being overwhelmed by the flood of prisoners still echoed violently through the corridor, but for him it all seemed to dull into something distant the moment Patricia spoke. freёwebnovel.com

"She’s gone..."

Her voice was weak and trembling, barely holding together as tears streamed down her face, and she shook her head slowly, as though saying the words alone hurt more than everything they had endured before this moment.

"Mother is dead..."

Patrick stared at her, not understanding at first, or perhaps refusing to understand, his expression tightening as if his mind was trying to reject the meaning before it could settle fully.

"No," he said immediately, almost instinctively. "No, where is she?"

Patricia broke into sobs, clutching weakly at his arm as though afraid he would disappear again if she let go.

"She died..." she whispered painfully. "Not long after they brought us here..."

Patrick’s breathing grew uneven.

"No..." he repeated, quieter this time.

"She was sick already," Patricia continued through tears. "There wasn’t enough food... barely any water... they beat people who complained..." Her voice cracked completely. "She got weaker every day..."

Patrick stood motionless.

"She kept waiting for you," Patricia sobbed. "Every day she said you would come... she believed it until the end..."

That broke him.

Patrick staggered back half a step as if something physical had struck him in the chest, his face twisting with pain as the reality finally crashed fully into him, and before he could stop himself, tears spilled down his face.

"I should’ve come sooner..." he choked out.

Patricia shook her head immediately despite her own sobbing. "No..."

"I should’ve gotten you out before this happened!"

His voice rose sharply, full of self-hatred and grief that had been held down for too long, and he slammed his fist against the wall beside him hard enough to crack part of the weakened surface.

"She died because I failed!"

Patricia grabbed him with both trembling hands, forcing herself to hold onto him despite how weak she was.

"No, Patrick..." she cried. "There was nothing you could’ve done..."

He couldn’t look at her.

His head dropped as he fought for breath, grief and guilt tearing through him harder than any wound he had taken in battle, because this was the promise he had carried with him all this time, the reason he returned, the thing he believed he could still fix if he survived long enough.

And now it was too late.

"She talked about you every day," Patricia whispered painfully. "Even when she got too weak to stand... she kept saying her son would come back for us..."

Patrick covered his eyes briefly, trying and failing to steady himself as tears continued slipping through his fingers.

"I came too late..." he said brokenly.

Patricia pulled herself closer and held onto him despite her own trembling. "You came back," she whispered. "That’s what mattered to her."

For a moment he could not speak at all.

Around them, the chaos continued to escalate as prisoners flooded through the compound and guards struggled desperately to regain control, but inside that small space between brother and sister, the noise felt far away compared to the crushing weight of loss settling over them.

Lucas stood nearby in silence.

He did not interrupt.

There were moments where words had no value, and this was one of them.

But even as he gave them that moment, his eyes remained alert, tracking movement beyond the corridor as more reinforcements began converging toward the inner section, their numbers growing rapidly now that the entire compound had descended into disorder.

They could not stay.

Not much longer.

Lucas stepped closer finally, his voice calm but firm.

"Patrick."

Patrick didn’t respond immediately.

Lucas looked toward the approaching corridor where more soldiers were beginning to force their way through the fleeing prisoners.

"We need to move."

Patrick’s shoulders tightened, his grief still raw and visible, but slowly, painfully, he nodded.

Patricia wiped at her tears weakly, still holding onto him as though afraid to let go again.

Patrick took a shaky breath, then carefully helped her stand fully.

The mission had changed again.

Now it was no longer about rescue alone.

It was about surviving what came after.

Patrick lifted Patricia carefully into his arms, holding her tightly despite the chaos around them, as though letting go even slightly might cause her to disappear too, and though grief still weighed heavily across his face, survival had forced its way back into his mind. There would be time to mourn later if they lived long enough to reach it.

Right now, they had to get out.

The compound had completely descended into madness.

Prisoners flooded through the corridors and courtyards in every direction, some screaming, some crying, some simply running without knowing where to go, driven entirely by panic and the sudden possibility of freedom, while the guards struggled desperately to contain the eruption they had lost control of. Formations broke apart almost immediately under the pressure of hundreds of desperate bodies surging through confined spaces, and every command barked by officers vanished beneath the roar of confusion spreading through the compound.

Lucas moved ahead of Patrick without hesitation.

The moment another group of soldiers appeared from the far corridor, trying to force their way through the chaos to intercept them, fire exploded from his hands in a controlled wave that swept through the narrow passage with terrifying precision, engulfing the front line before they could properly brace themselves. Their screams barely lasted a second before the heat overwhelmed them, and the soldiers behind recoiled instinctively, their momentum shattered as flames spread across the stone floor and walls around them.

"Move!" Lucas shouted sharply.

Patrick did not need telling twice.

He pushed forward with Patricia held firmly against him, weaving through the collapsing disorder while Lucas carved a path ahead, every attempt at resistance meeting immediate destruction before it could fully form.

More guards poured into the compound from the outer entrances now, drawn by the alarms and the growing smoke beginning to rise into the night sky, but the situation had already spiraled beyond easy control. Prisoners crashed into fleeing soldiers, some grabbing weapons, others trampling guards under sheer desperation as years of fear erupted violently all at once.

Lucas did not waste energy on prolonged fights.

Every movement was direct.

Efficient.

Lethal.

A soldier lunged from the side and was immediately met by a burst of fire that sent him crashing backward into two others behind him. Another tried to intercept Patrick near the courtyard entrance, but Lucas crossed the distance instantly and struck him down before he could even raise his weapon properly.

The heat around Lucas intensified with each passing moment, his fire illuminating the compound in violent flashes that reflected off panicked faces and burning structures alike, and wherever he moved, the guards broke apart under pressure they could no longer contain.

Patrick glanced back only once.

The rooms they had opened were still flooding empty, prisoners escaping into the compound and beyond it in every direction, turning the entire district into a spreading crisis that would take far more than soldiers to control.

Then another alarm rang out somewhere deeper in the city.

Louder.

Broader.

Lucas heard it immediately.

"So they’ve escalated," he muttered.

Patrick’s expression tightened. "We need to leave now."

Lucas nodded once.

The compound would soon attract stronger forces.

Possibly celestials.

And if that happened inside the city walls, escape would become nearly impossible.

They broke through the final section of the compound perimeter just as another group of guards rushed toward them from the outer street, but before they could fully react, Lucas unleashed another concentrated surge of flame that tore through the center of their formation and forced the survivors back in panic.

The outer district beyond the compound had already begun reacting to the unrest.

Windows opened.

People shouted.

Soldiers rushed through nearby streets toward the source of the disturbance while prisoners scattered wildly through alleys and side paths, turning the entire area into a storm of movement and confusion.

Lucas scanned quickly.

"This way."

He led them immediately into a narrower route between buildings, avoiding the larger streets where reinforcements would soon converge, and Patrick followed closely behind with Patricia still in his arms, her face buried weakly against his shoulder as exhaustion threatened to pull her unconscious.

Behind them, the compound continued to burn.

And above the growing chaos of the district, the hunt for them had only just begun.

They moved quickly through the twisting streets of the capital, using the spreading chaos behind them as temporary cover while Lucas guided them away from the main routes where soldiers were already beginning to converge in force, but even as they gained distance from the compound, something heavier settled over the city.

Pressure.

Not from ordinary soldiers.

From above.

Lucas felt it before he saw anything, his senses catching the rapid movement of powerful auras cutting across the capital with terrifying speed, sharp and focused, spreading outward from the direction of the compound like predators locking onto prey, and the moment he identified the nature of those presences, his expression hardened immediately.