After bursting out the door, Arran found himself in what looked to be a large, walled courtyard. Although there were clear signs of battle in the form of bodies and damaged buildings, there weren't any enemies present as far as Arran could tell.

Without having to face the attack he had been expecting, Arran almost felt lost as he headed into the courtyard to take a better look at the surroundings. There was no trace of any living Academy guards, and the gate in the wall had been twisted into a ruined mess by some frighteningly strong force.

While he remained watchful, it seemed as if the four prisoners from the most heavily locked cells had completely wiped out their enemies.

Behind him, he could hear the freed prisoners flooding into the courtyard, their voices low but excited. Some sounded fearful and others eager, but none of them sounded the least bit calm.

There were well over a hundred now, and even if most of them were weak, their sheer numbers should provide at least some protection. In the Empire, there were few places where over a hundred mages would not be considered a force to be reckoned with.

"Quiet!" Arran hissed suddenly, and a few moments later, the muffled voices disappeared.

The reason for the sudden order had been that Arran thought he heard sounds of battle, and now, he could clearly hear thunderous explosions far in the distance — several miles away, if not more.

"Hear that?" he said to the Windsong and the mages who were standing closest to him. "I think the others have drawn them away. If we hurry, we can—"

He did not get the chance to finish, because just then, a small group of white-clad Academy mages emerged from the ruined gate in the surrounding wall.

For a moment, the two groups stood watching each other, seemingly frozen in shock. Both the escaped prisoners and the Academy patrol had clearly not expected to run into their enemies just now, and neither side responded immediately.

The first to react were the prisoners. As if by some unspoken agreement, several dozens of them simultaneously threw their most powerful attacks at the Academy patrol, the others following an instant later.

Arran was among those who attacked, and faced with Academy mages, he drew upon all the might of the raw Essence within him.

Just his attack alone was enough to eliminate the Academy patrol. Combined with the other prisoners' attacks, it was so strong that it ripped not just through the patrol, but also through the wall behind, through the buildings behind that, and through everything else for at least a quarter mile.

Arran cursed loudly, at once recognizing his mistake.

In the blink of an eye, their chance to make an easy escape while most Academy mages were fighting elsewhere was lost. With this idiotic display of power, they had just announced their presence to any mage within half a dozen miles, and the Academy would be sure to respond.

Worse, the moment Arran threw the devastating attack, he felt a sense of relief, with the pain in his body lessening immediately.

At any other time that would have been a welcome change, but right now, Arran knew what it meant: that the raw Essence of the Realm Opening Pills was beginning to run out.

He had barely fought at all, instead using the raw Essence on doors and locks until it almost ran dry. It had been worth it, as he had exchanged his raw Essence for temporary allies who had already proven their worth many times over, clearing a safe path out of the prison.

Yet now, Arran felt painfully vulnerable, with his fount of power running dry long before the final fight was over — or worse, before it had even truly begun.

If he was lucky, he would have another dozen strong attacks left before the raw Essence ran out. That might be enough, but only if he was lucky enough to avoid any Grandmasters.

After that, he would have to rely on his own strength. And although he had grown much stronger since Panurge had locked him away, he knew he could not hope to match a Grandmaster with only his own power.

Of course, he still had more Realm Opening Pills left, but after the golden-haired man's warning, he would only take those as a last resort, and only if there were absolutely no other options available.

He shook his head. It was pointless to think about all of this. What he needed to focus on was one thing, and one thing only: to escape as soon as possible.

"Listen up!" he called out. "Right now, every mage in the city is coming for us! The only way we can escape is if we leave now, and don't stop until we're out of danger!"

Arran was about to lead the way out of the city when the short female mage once more spoke up.

"No!" she called out, shaking her head anxiously. "Half of us will be dead before we're outside the city, and the other half will die while being chased down in the plains surrounding us."

"Then what do you suggest we do?" Arran asked. From the tone of her voice, he could already tell she had a plan.

"We attack the main prison," she said. "Most guards will still be chasing the others, or guarding the outer walls. The few that remain to guard the main prison won't expect an attack — and once we're there, with the prisoners we free on our side, we'll easily be able to fight them off."

"This isn't the main prison?" Arran asked flatly, only barely having heard the words that came after. He was astonished at the idea that the prison he had just escaped from would not be enough to hold the Academy's foes.

The woman looked slightly annoyed, as if the question was the kind of thing a particularly ignorant five-year-old might ask. "Of course not. The main prison is gigantic. It holds many thousands of prisoners."

"Then how do we get there?" Arran asked. He did not like the idea, but he could not think of a better one, and he knew they had little time left to spare.

"Just follow me," the woman said. "I know a path that should take us there quickly."

Before he could reply, several bolts of lightning shot at them. Although they missed Arran and the woman, a handful of people around them died instantly, and Arran immediately turned his attention toward their source.

At a glance, he saw a tall white-robed man at the head of a small group of Academy mages. Other prisoners had reacted even quicker than Arran, and already, the Academy mages were having trouble defending from the torrent of Fire, Wind, Water, Earth and other types of Essence that came soaring their way.

Arran shot a blast of raw Essence toward them, intentionally limiting himself to not waste his rapidly dwindling power.

The shot was only barely enough to disrupt the Academy mages' defenses, but that was enough. With the numerous attacks from the former prisoners coming at the Academy mages in a constant barrage, just having their protection disrupted for a moment was an instant death sentence.

As the Academy mages died, their bodies torn apart by dozens of magic attacks, Arran turned back toward the short woman.

"Lead the way," he said, "but hurry. We have only moments before more of them arrive."

The woman smiled confidently. "Just follow me. We'll be gone before they have a chance to catch up."

She set off immediately, with Arran following closely behind her, and the other mages following behind him. Arran fervently wished that she would be right — if she wasn't, every single one of them would likely die.