But adhering to the principle of not missing a single corner, he turned around and squeezed in.
After a slight turn, he discovered that the scale of this underground prison was enormous.
It held human political prisoners from various countries, powerful Middle Sequence Extraordinary individuals, and various Cursed Spirits with immortality.
Of course, the rules of the Sacred Relics could not be exempted; regardless of what these people had been, they had all now transford into "her."
Despite many prisoners being two ters tall, two ters wide, with arms as wide as horse-racing track, fists large enough to stand on, and extrely dense body hair, physiologically they were certainly won!
The Sailing Logbook observed that not only the prisoners, but even the cockroaches and mosquitoes here were female.
"No, this one isn't it either, none of them are."
The Raven vibrated its wings and quickly glided through the prison cells like a ghost.
Byron found many renowned "big figures" here, yet precisely failed to find any trace of his aunt and her companions.
Until he reached the lowest layer, the last cell, did he stop in his tracks.
It wasn't because he found any clue, but purely because the layout of this cell exceeded his expectations greatly.
Not only did it have a two-story structure, occupying far more space than other cells, but also had a small window through which one could see the blue Inland Sea outside.
The door was a solid cast iron instead of the usual iron bars used for others, providing maximum privacy.
The furniture was luxurious, including a bathroom, vanity, bookshelf, desk, velvet bed...everything you could need, and even the camphor wardrobe was filled with beautiful dresses.
Of course, it can't compare with the royal palaces outside, but compared to other cells, it's simply the "king suite" of prison cells.
When Byron entered, the cell's mistress was bathing quite "irreverently."
A thick layer of foam floated in the oak tub, along with many fresh rose petals, on the water's surface only a female head with long black hair piled high at the back was visible.
However, even while bathing, she wore a tal mask over her face, completely obscuring her true appearance.
"Hey? What's going on?"
When Byron tried to use the Sailing Logbook to peek into the information, he found that while he could read the information of others previously, her information was entirely inaccessible.
Upon closer inspection, he realized that his senses were confounded when observing her; he couldn't discern whether she was tall or short, fat or thin, pretty or ugly.
Looking around, he only saw a brass naplate on the door engraved with the number 64389, followed by the word: "Iron Masked Man."
This should be her code na in the underground prison.
Byron saw this mysterious prisoner, and couldn't help but feel his curiosity grow.
"Strange, able to warrant such protection, her identity and strength must be extraordinary, definitely not an unknown figure.
Yet still she is held here and stripped of her freedom, surely the Church or other major figures don't want her leaving."
However, Byron's main goal this ti wasn't solving riddles, but finding his aunt.
And since she was bathing, it was inconvenient to linger, so he flapped his wings and turned to leave.
After he walked far away, the bathing Iron Masked Man slowly turned her head to look in the direction he departed.
After a long gaze, a llow female voice echoed in the cell:
"Ha, a male Raven sneaking in? Seems to be a rare species from the Northern Lands.
Years of dull, uneventful days finally seem to beco interesting lately, is the chaos I'm waiting for really coming?"
Though she claid to be confined for more than a decade, her voice still held a hint of youthful mischief.
Moreover, she had even broken through the Ravens' immunity to the observation of Middle Sequence Extraordinary, showing her power was uncommon.
After leaving the cell, Byron activated the Echo of History, and casually read so of the information from the nearby on-duty Extraordinary nuns about that Iron Masked Man:
"Number: 64389 has lived here for over ten years.
No one knows where she cos from.
Her deanor is elegant, attire proper, completely unlike any ferocious heavy criminal.
Even if rely for self-entertainnt without any audience, she maintains a high requirent for life quality, unwilling to compromise for anything.
She also enjoyed the best conditions in her cell, equipped with a bookshelf, paper and pens for writing, to et her daily reading needs.
The Iron Masked Man here can choose her attire according to her preferences, and doesn't need to wear prison uniforms. Each change of season brings new clothes, and she has never suffered any punishnt.
But one harsh rule must be followed:
'She can't remove the mask herself, nor let anyone else do it. Anyone who attempts will be sentenced to death.
She can't voluntarily reveal her identity to anyone, once she does, both herself and the listener will face the death penalty.'"
Beyond this, no more information was obtained.
Byron could only conclude that her identity was extrely sensitive, and if there were a chance to release her, he wouldn't mind lending a hand.
But actively rescuing this prisoner was unnecessary for him; she was just a passerby, after all.
He flapped his wings and continued wandering around the monastery most of the day, before finally finding the figure of Aunt Margaret in a large courtyard.
She was working there with a few other aunts.
Productivity in the Old Continent was low, sustaining large numbers of clergy without employnt was unrealistic, nuns and priests in the monastery and most churches needed to work.
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