They are all characters I control.

Chapter 17 Sentenced to Hanging

Claire straightened up a bit, intrigued by her talkative cellmate next to her.

One man, with a knife, killed a bishop of the Grand Duchy of the South China Sea.

Such composure and courage make one a remarkable person, no matter where they are.

"What's your name?" Claire asked.

The woman glanced at him, and after a moment she uttered two words: "Grace".

"Grace? What's her surname?" Claire wanted to ask if the other person was a noble, or if she had any background.

“Grace.” The woman’s tone was tinged with impatience.

She didn't seem to want to mention her last name, explaining to Claire, "First name doesn't matter. I've been here for two years and nobody's called me that."

Claire nodded and didn't ask any further questions.

The person capable of killing a bishop must be someone of high status.

It's understandable that she doesn't want to say her full name, lest she be taught to play Candy Crush with her whole family.

“And you?” Grace retorted. “What have you done? A church knight, locked up in a place like this, that’s no small matter, is it?”

“They say I slaughtered civilians, aided heretics, defected from the church, and incidentally nearly killed the knight commander.” Claire shrugged.

Grace raised an eyebrow; she clearly understood the meaning behind Claire's words.

"So did you do it? You mean you didn't?"

“No.” Claire shrugged.

“Hmph.” Grace scoffed. “Everyone here says they didn’t do it.”

Claire smiled, realizing she really couldn't offer any explanation.

His gaze fell on the thin figure to his right. The person had been sitting against the wall since earlier, holding something in his arms and remaining motionless like a statue.

The light was too dim to see her face clearly, but I could tell it was a woman with a small figure.

"Who's that?" Claire gestured with her chin.

Grace followed his gaze and lowered her voice, "I don't know. She came in before me and never speaks. She always carries something in her arms, like a doll or some kind of bone. She eats when the guards give her food, but doesn't make a fuss when they don't. She's like a living dead."

Claire stared at the figure for a few seconds. The person seemed to sense her gaze, moved slightly, but did not look up.

“Ignore her.” Grace looked away. “She won’t get in the way. But you, you say you’re innocent, so what are you going to do? Wait to die?”

Claire leaned against the wall. "What do you think I can do?"

"Run." Grace didn't hold back at all, and naturally said this to someone she had only known for a few minutes.

“I’ve been in this cell for several years. I know exactly where the guards change shifts, the patrol routes, and where the keys are hung.”

"I can't run alone, but two people can."

Claire looked at her and thought the woman was rather interesting.

Regardless of whether she's smart or not, she's certainly very proactive.

"Oh? So you're helping me? You're helping me escape from prison?"

The way this story unfolds looks like a trap.

“Because you’re just like me.” Grace’s eyes gleamed in the darkness: “I killed that bishop, you killed civilians, we’re the same!”

Crazy! Claire regretted having doubted whether Grace was a trap.

That woman is a lunatic.

Her eyes and expression didn't seem like acting; if someone could act like that, Claire would be impressed.

"Forget it, I might not end up locked up here like you." Claire stretched.

The Knights have sent people to investigate; they should find something out soon.

Of all the suspicions against Eleanor, only the charge that Claire killed the townspeople who had sided with the heretics when she controlled Eleanor was correct.

There was nothing they could do; all the church knights were like Eleanor, the saints.

If you want to live and don't want to die, you have to take action; someone has to do it.

“Hehe, everyone else says the same thing.” Grace looked at Claire and repeated what she had just said.

Claire sensed Grace's disbelief, but she didn't want to explain anything.

Since Knight Commander Will is still alive, Eleanor's situation won't be too troublesome.

Just then, footsteps came from the end of the corridor, the dull sound of heavy boots on the stone slabs.

Claire turned her head and saw three figures emerge from the darkness.

Leading the way was a middle-aged man wearing a dark red bishop's robe.

Two people followed behind him: one was the black-robed judge who had come before, and the other was a knight in silver armor. When Claire saw the other's face clearly, she couldn't help but sit up straight.

It was none other than the traitorous knight, Karl.

“Eleanor Redgrave,” the bishop’s voice was not loud, but every word was clear, “Do you know your crime?”

Claire raised her head, looked at the bishop in front of her, and curled her lips in disdain: "I am innocent."

When Claire saw Carl appear there, she knew it was all over.

Sure enough, the bishop frowned in displeasure.

Carl, on the other hand, glared angrily at Claire and questioned 'Eleanor' in a righteous manner.

"Innocent? You massacred dozens of civilians in Lingu Village and killed more than twenty innocent villagers in Gray Rock Town. There are survivors to testify to these crimes, and you still say you are innocent?"

“We haven’t even settled the other charges against you yet. You colluded with the heretics of the ‘Church of Life’ to ambush Knight Commander Will and kill our church’s knights!”

"Even your own knight squad was completely wiped out, all because of your betrayal! You won't admit it!?"

“Those are not civilians.” Claire’s voice was calm as she looked at the traitorous knight before her. “They are heretics, followers of the ‘Church of Life,’ and I didn’t do it to Knight Commander Will.”

"Where's the evidence?" the bishop asked, spreading his hands.

What evidence do you have that they are heretics?

Claire spread her hands: "There is no evidence."

“That’s right.” Karl smiled smugly.

Claire listened to these words without any expression.

His gaze fell upon the bishop beside him, and seeing that the bishop was also looking at him with disgust, Claire could already foresee what would happen next.

However, Grace gave a cold laugh from the side.

"You say she massacred civilians? Then why did she come back?"

Her voice wasn't loud, but it was exceptionally clear in the quiet cell.

Grace, completely ignoring the bishops' gazes, continued, "If she really had sided with the heretics, she should have run off with them. Are all of you in the church brainless?"

Karl's expression changed slightly.

The bishop frowned and looked at Grace. "You have no right to speak here."

“Whether I talk or not is my business,” Grey said firmly. “Whether you believe me or not is your business. But don’t you feel ashamed to convict someone with such a flimsy reason?”

The judge in black robes stepped forward, intending to reprimand Grace.

The bishop raised his hand to stop him.

“Ignore her.” The bishop’s gaze returned to Claire. “Eleanor Redgrave, you will be hanged tomorrow morning. You may have any last words.”

Claire looked at him, her eyes filled with pity for someone who was about to die but was unaware of it.

Chapter 18 The Apostate Knight

Claire looked at the bishop with no fear or anger in her eyes, only pity.

Have pity on this fool who was kept in the dark by the traitor.

Since this apostate Karl has appeared in the Knights, it means he has accepted some kind of mission.

His target was undoubtedly the city where the knights were located.

However, the bishop did not suspect Karl, but rather Eleanor, and all of Karl's actions were now attributed to Eleanor.

In that case, the apostate Karl will be able to do whatever he wants here.

Even if the Knights of the Church didn't intend to hang Eleanor, Claire would still control Eleanor's body and run away.

Watching Karl and the bishops leave, Claire turned to look at Grace, the crazy female prisoner beside her.

"By the way, Grace, what did you just say? A prison break, right? What's your plan?"

“I dug a hole,” Grace said with a hint of smugness. “Right there in the corner.”

Claire looked in the direction she was pointing.

It was a corner covered by hay, looking no different from the rest of the place.

Lace crawled over, parted the dry grass, revealing the ground underneath, where there was a hole.

But the hole was only forearm deep and palm wide; not even a cat could squeeze through it.

Claire stared at the hole and remained silent for three seconds.

"Is this the hole you've been digging for over two years?"

“I’ve been digging for a year,” Grace replied, dissatisfied. “I didn’t have any tools, I had to dig with my hands. The rocks were too hard, I couldn’t dig them, and sometimes I didn’t want to dig anymore.”

Claire took a deep breath; this woman's mental state was so good that it was almost enviable.

However, this can also be considered his escape teammate.

"Do you have any other options?"

“Yes.” Grace’s eyes lit up again. She leaned close to Claire and said mysteriously, “Steal the key and run away tonight when the guards change shifts.”

Where are the keys?

“It’s hanging on the guard’s waist,” Grace said matter-of-factly. “We’ll see if we can steal it later.”

Claire rolled her eyes.

"Forget it, I'll just have to rely on myself." Claire raised her hand and began to condense runes.

Magic flowed through her body, but nothing happened when she tried to channel it to her fingertips to form runes.

Claire frowned and looked at Grace. "Is there something here that suppresses magic?"

“Yes, there is.” Grace pointed outside the cell. “There’s a lump of iron next to that pillar. The guards say it’s a ‘domain generator,’ specifically used to suppress magic. Otherwise, those heretics would have run away long ago.”

Claire looked in the direction she was pointing.

At the end of the corridor, next to a stone pillar, lay a fist-sized magical device covered with intricate runes.

Claire tried it, but couldn't even cast the simplest Flash spell.

“Completely useless.” He sighed.

Grace leaned closer and asked, "Was that magic just now?"

"Ah."

"You know magic? Aren't you a knight?"

“Knights can learn magic too,” Claire said casually, leaning against the wall and closing her eyes.

He couldn't think of any other solution for the time being.

The magic-suppressing field is suppressing it, preventing the use of magic.

Grace, that crazy woman, has a series of increasingly unreliable "prison break plans."

Just then, footsteps were heard in the corridor.

It wasn't the same kind of footsteps the bishops had taken before; instead, it was hurried footsteps, filled with murderous intent.

The soles of the boots thudded against the stone slabs, making a dense, muffled sound as they approached.