Reborn With A Technology System In A Fantasy World

Karl didn't waste time. He immediately approached the academy gate, pulling out a pre-purchased pass that granted him temporary leave.

The gatekeepers barely cared about the time before waving him through. Karl wasn't certain in what he planned to do, but one thing was certain in his mind:

"I can't let anything happen to her."

As Karl boarded a carriage, he mused to himself, 'I wish Adrian was here. He would have made things so much easier.'

But Karl remained focused, a steely resolve hardening his gaze.

He would rescue Serena himself. He didn't believe any of the outrageous claims Fabian had blurted out. Karl never doubted his intuition, and right now, every fiber of his being screamed that he was on the right path.

Eventually, the carriage deposited him near the imposing walls of the Royal Palace.

He took a deep breath, the sheer scale of the fortress making his task seem even more daunting.

He didn't dwell on the intricacies of his plan; there was no elaborate strategy, only a desperate hope for success.

His first target was the outer gatekeeper, a lone figure who seemed to serve more as a ceremonial presence than a true deterrent.

Karl moved swiftly, striking before the man could even register his presence.

A quick, decisive blow rendered the gatekeeper unconscious. Karl stripped him of his uniform, hastily donning the common palace worker's attire.

He then found the gatekeeper's colleagues in their small outpost, easily subduing and tying them up alongside their incapacitated comrade.

Karl let out a silent breath, the coarse fabric of the uniform feeling alien on his skin.

"I hope this works," he murmured to himself. The palace, was simply not prepared for this scenario. No one in their right mind, after all, would ever consider sneaking into the home of the strongest person on the continent.

But Karl wasn't scared. 'The King isn't around,' he reassured himself internally. 'Most of the high-ranking Mages are absent too. So it shouldn't be an issue.'

Within minutes, Karl was inside the Palace grounds. He walked with an air of practiced nonchalance, blending seamlessly with the other workers going about their daily routines.

No one seemed to notice a thing. His immediate challenge now was to locate the dungeons; once he found them, he would know how to proceed.

He strolled through opulent hallways and grand courtyards, trying to appear natural, occasionally asking innocuous questions about the dungeons.

His sharp ears were constantly pricked for any whispers or clues that might lead him to his objective.

It took over three agonizing hours, but Karl finally struck gold. In the bustling palace kitchens, where the air was thick with the aroma of roasting meats and simmering stews, he found the guards responsible for feeding the inmates.

Karl, feigning diligence was positioned himself near a stack of dirty plates, pretending to wash them.

"The King placed several new inmates in the cells," he overheard one guard say to the chef. "So you'll need to prepare more food."

The chef, a burly man with flour dusted on his apron, grunted in understanding. "Right. I'll start cooking another batch."

Soon after, the guards began to load large, insulated coolers, filled with food, onto trolleys. Karl saw his chance.

The coolers were numerous, and the guards seemed slightly overwhelmed. He put down the plate he was supposedly washing and approached them.

"I can help you with those," he offered eagerly.

The guards looked at him suspiciously. "Aren't you washing plates?" one of them grunted.

Karl immediately dropped to his knees, his voice filled with a dramatic plea.

"My brother, he's there! Please, I just want to see his face one more time! Please, please!" He continued to beg, pouring every ounce of emotion into his performance.

Eventually, the guards, softened by his apparent desperation, relented. "Alright, alright," one said, "but don't overreact inside. You hear?"

Karl profusely thanked them, his face a mask of gratitude, before silently smiling to himself as he picked up a cooler and followed them.

They navigated a labyrinthine series of service tunnels and descending staircases, the air growing steadily colder and damper.

The dungeon, Karl realized, was located deep beneath the palace, a stark, grim contrast to the opulence above.

The moment they bypassed the stern-faced guards stationed at the dungeon entrance, they were waved through.

Karl subtly scrutinized the guards, a fleeting thought crossing his mind.

'It's unfortunate I can't tell how strong they arev. He then added internally,' Perks of being a mage.' He could only silently hope that he could take them all down if necessary.

They descended further into the dank, torch-lit depths. Eventually, they reached the rows of cells, and the guards began using small plates to pass food through the bars.

Karl waited for the perfect opportunity, joining them in the food distribution, his eyes scanning each cell. And then, he saw her.

Serena.

She lay weakly on the cold stone floor, frail and almost invisible, a mere shadow of her vibrant self.

Karl reacted strongly as his heart clenched with worry at her terrible condition.

The moment her eyes fluttered open and met his, a flicker of pure hope ignited within them, and that sight ignited a fierce resolve in Karl, giving him a renewed surge of confidence.

He dropped the plates he was carrying. In the next instant, a whirlwind of motion erupted.

~CRACK! THUD! WHOOSH!~

Every single guard, caught entirely by surprise, fell unconscious in a matters of mere seconds, their bodies slumping to the ground.

Karl immediately sprang into action. He gripped his spear, its tip glowing faintly with his activated mana, and began to pry at the sturdy iron bars of Serena's cell.

They were stronger than they looked, resisting his initial attempts, but with a surge of raw magical energy, they eventually groaned and bent, creating a gap wide enough for her to pass through.

His heart swelled with a complex mix of relief, fury, and burgeoning affection.

He reached through the bent bars and his hand gently touched her face.

"Serena," he whispered with emotion. He pulled her carefully through the opening.

"You're safe now," he murmured, his arms wrapping around her.

She was too weak to talk, so he held her close to his chest, steadying her as they began to walk.

He quickly removed a spare guard uniform from one of the unconscious figures and draped it over her flimsy, torn dress, hoping it would provide some cover.

"We're going to get out of here," he assured her.

They reached the main dungeon door. When questioned by the guards, Karl stammered, "Uhm, she's not feeling well."

The guards at the door eyed him with suspicion, clearly not believing his flimsy excuse. But Karl didn't need them to. Within seconds, before they could even react, they too slumped to the ground, unconscious.

With that obstacle cleared, Karl scooped Serena fully into his arms.

"Let's go," he whispered, breaking into a quick jog.

But as they moved faster, just when it seemed they would finally leave the dungeon quarters, a shadow stretched out before them.

Karl looked up, his heart sinking, to see a man standing there. He had long white hair and a flowing white beard, and his eyes were fixed first on Karl, then on the frail Serena cradled in his arms.

"What's going on here?"