Late at night, Buckingham Palace, basement.
Amid the dull tremor of metal in the darkness, a figure skillfully crawled out through a hole in the window.
Tch, and this was supposed to keep me trapped?
After confirming there was no one around, the escapee proudly straightened her back, glanced disdainfully at the iron bars she had bent off with her bare hands, shoved them back into place, and swaggered out of the basement.
The escapee made her way forward almost completely unhindered. She scarcely even saw any Purification Knights responsible for patrols and inspections.
For some reason, Buckingham Palace seemed much quieter tonight.
Strange. Where did everyone go?
Under the moonlight, Mordred could not help muttering as she curiously surveyed her surroundings.
But the dull rumble of her stomach quickly made her lose any desire to get to the bottom of it.
Forget it. I'll worry about that later. First, I'm going to the kitchen to find something to fill my stomach. Is that gorilla Gawain's cooking even fit for humans? Even dogs would turn their noses up at it!
Remembering the "home cooking" she had tossed into a corner, untouched even by rats, Mordred rolled her eyes and grumbled inwardly.
Having made up her mind, the hungry knight charged straight into the kitchen, pulled out several plates of baked bread from a basket, paired them with the remaining smoked meat, and began wolfing them down.
Only after devouring more than a dozen loaves of bread and two kilograms of smoked meat did Mordred finally let out a satisfied burp. She got up, brushed the crumbs and dust from herself, picked her teeth, and slipped out of the scene of the crime.
But just as the escapee was preparing to crawl back into the basement and resume her sentence as