Transmigrated As A Beautiful Cannon Fodder Omega To Marry An Evil God Alpha In Place of Another - Chapter 6

“Your Highness, please rest well. The wedding is in three days. If you need anything, just let me know.”

The Black Dragon escorted Bai Rui back, looking at him intently for a long while before closing the door and departing.

Back in his room, Bai Rui sat in silence, his head bowed until the sounds outside the door vanished completely. He slowly straightened his back and scanned the room, his gaze landing on the high-slit red cheongsam discarded on the floor. He closed his eyes, unable to bear another look, and kicked it aside.

If he didn’t run, tomorrow he would be forced to wear that humiliating outfit to marry some “evil Sorcerer Emperor” described as having the girth of a child’s arm.

That might as well be death, he thought.

Turning his back, Bai Rui reached for the pocket watch at his chest. This watch was different from the one engraved with the royal crest, this one bore a hexagram star map. It was the “Universal Pocket Watch” from Sorcerer Emperor Qi Li’s collection. He didn’t know how much it could hold, but in his haste, he had managed to stuff one vital item inside.

With a click, the watch popped open. A second later, a piece of black fabric appeared in Bai Rui’s hand. He shook it out, a black cloak.

He remembered seeing sketches of this from his seniors back in the research group. Senior Qi had designed it with the function of invisibility, set specifically to be kept in the Sorcerer Emperor’s collection room.

His slender fingers brushed over the fabric. It felt strange, like a soft membrane with its own internal flow, yet it looked like cloth. Relief washed over Bai Rui’s face.

He pulled a goat-headed short blade from under his pillow, tucked it into the combat belt at his waist, and donned the black cloak.

There was a faint sizzle in the air. The gold patterns embroidered along the edges of the cloak rippled with light, glowing with a faint golden aura for a split second. Then, Bai Rui vanished into the shadows of the dark blue castle room.

Vanishing along with him was a bottle of high-proof cocktail, a mix of sage and mandrake, from the table.

The wooden door creaked open and shut. The grumpy doorknob opened its bleary eyes, ready to curse, but seeing no one there, it looked puzzled, spat into the void, and went back to sleep.

Bai Rui’s heart hammered against his ribs. He tried to steady his breathing, his long exhales appeared as faint mists in the empty air.

Avoiding the guarded corridors and the fin covered staircases he had seen during the afternoon tour, he moved swiftly. Clad in the invisibility cloak, he sprinted toward the barbican tower he remembered. That was his escape route, but first, he had another destination.

The wind whistled past his hood as he brushed past patrolling guards, his back slick with sweat. He kept his head down, his footsteps silent on the moonlit gallery floor, which cast no shadow of his form.

Beyond the outer court’s livestock pens lay a row of low, dilapidated shacks hidden by dense vegetation, a “sore” on the face of the magnificent Frost Badger Castle. Inside, the muffled sound of sobbing drifted out.

“Shut up! Cry again and I’ll wring your necks!” a guard barked, striking the wooden fence with a barbed whip.

“Take it easy,” the other guard grumbled. “That little consort to be put on quite a show today, saying we can’t harm the slaves. Now we’re stuck on night watch. Everyone else is at the pre-wedding feast drinking and eating roasted sheep…”

Suddenly, one guard yelped, “Ow!” as a small stone rolled by his feet.

“Who’s there?”

The guards stepped forward, and one, looking like a bull-headed demon, gasped with joy. “High-grade liquor!”

A glass flask lay in the grass, filled with a liquid that shimmered with dark purple and cobalt blue gradients, sparkling like a midnight galaxy. Unable to resist, the guards snatched it up.

Within minutes, the sound of heavy snoring filled the air. The empty flask rolled away with a clink.

The edge of a cloak brushed against a guard’s hand on the ground. The wooden latch was flicked open. A gust of wind seemed to lift the man holding a child inside the pen.

“Who… who are you?” the man stammered, his face gaunt from hunger.

Bai Rui pulled back his hood, revealing his face. A woman nearby gasped, “It’s the Eldest Prince! Keep your voice down!”

Their eyes lit up as if seeing a lifeline in the depths of hell. Bai Rui reached to his waist and handed the woman a ring of keys he had lifted from the guards.

“Go through the small woods to the west. Escape as quickly as you can.”

The pen fell silent. An old man sighed, “How can we escape? There are guards everywhere…”

“You can,” Bai Rui said calmly, his eyes downcast. “Take the keys.”

The woman clutched the keys to her chest. “Thank you, Prince. We believe you.”

Bai Rui nodded and pulled the hood back up, vanishing instantly. The slaves gasped, on a crystal ball screen elsewhere, they looked like startled little animals.

Inside a grand hall, a man walked barefoot across a blue carpet. With every step, frost bloomed beneath his feet, vanishing as soon as he moved on.

His damp silver hair hung over one shoulder, highlighting his broad shoulders and narrow waist. He wore only white trousers slung low on his hips, revealing a sharp V-line and defined abdominals still glistening with droplets of water.

“Still watching? Caught an eye-full, have we?”

A black cat perched before a crystal ball turned its round eyes toward him. “Pocket watch, cloak, turpentine, and a bottle of sage mandrake wine. He’s treated your collection like a grocery store.”

“He took quite a bit,” the man remarked, his long fingers snapping open the royal pocket watch Bai Rui had left behind. Inside were two folded ticket stubs.

They were pink tickets with Oriental text: 2025 Western Fantasy Oil Painting Exhibition Entry Voucher.

“Can’t read that, meow~” the cat chirped. “But why take the turpentine?”

Turpentine, a staple for oil painting. The cat tilted its head, confused. “Does he want to paint?”

Just then, the images in the crystal ball shifted. The slaves were shouting, “Look! The eastern tower is on fire!”

The distraction allowed the slaves to slip out of the gate unnoticed. In the distance, towering flames illuminated the castle silhouette.

The silver-haired man raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“Oh heavens,” the cat exclaimed. “Not just looting, but arson too? He looks so delicate, yet his methods are so wild! Why light a fire in the east if he’s in the west?”

The man didn’t answer. He reached out, grabbing a robe from a rack. With a flick, it settled over his shoulders, carrying the cool scent of his recent bath.

“Where are you going?”

“Out for a bit,” the man replied, pausing to reveal a stunningly sharp profile. “The bath must not be wasted.”