Chapter 93

Snakes Do Not Cry

The Dandolo estate, family council chamber.

The chairman's seat belonged to the head of the family.

Which meant it belonged to Rico Dandolo.

Yet Tilda sat there as though it were only natural, occupying the place without the slightest hesitation. She used the seat as if it had always been hers.

"And Henri?"

"He said there were trade matters requiring his attention. He won't be back until tomorrow."

"I know that already. He went on about it endlessly. What I mean is, there's no chance he'll suddenly come back, right?"

"That's correct."

"So tonight, this estate is mine."

Tilda smiled.

"It won't be long before the Dandolo estate truly belongs to Lady Tilda."

"You'll stand over this house with pride—not as a daughter-in-law, but as its head."

The sycophants eagerly seized the opportunity to flatter her.

Every one of them had been promised a share of the rewards in exchange for helping Tilda.

"I'm sure it will. So shouldn't we focus on the task at hand?"

Tilda began reviewing the schemes she had set in motion between Stephan and Merchant, preparing to deepen each one.

"Stephan is currently locked in a standoff with Herman. He's trying to force him out over the management rights, but it doesn't seem to be going smoothly."

"And Merchant?"

"'Sharpening his blade' would be the best way to describe him. He's preparing for a direct confrontation with Stephan."

"Even so, a blade is always closer than money. Wouldn't it be better to intensify the pressure on Merchant's side?"

Tilda absentmindedly traced her lips with a finger before answering.

"No. We only need to crush Stephan. Getting him out of this game is what matters most."

"Understood."

"As for the others, the groundwork is already solid. Once we spread the evidence to the Empire proving that the mercenary company is actually a bandit gang, they'll collapse overnight."

"Indeed."

"Then we'll proceed as you instructed."

Her subordinates moved efficiently without needing further orders.

Tilda smiled in satisfaction.

Everything was proceeding perfectly.

It felt as though she were watching puppets dance upon a stage, each one moving exactly as she wished.

She was intoxicated by the feeling that everything she desired was already within her grasp.

All that's left is to find the will... and everything will fall into place.

According to the will, after Rico Dandolo's death, everything would pass to Henri.

Until Henri's child came of age at nineteen and was capable of standing on their own, no one else could become the successor, and all authority over the estate would rest with the vice chairman.

For Tilda, who coveted the Dandolo Trading Company, it was the most troublesome clause imaginable.

That was why she had gone to such lengths.

Everything would unfold like a line of dominoes.

It would begin with something small...

...and end as an unstoppable tidal wave.

She would become the master of everything.

At that moment, a servant hurried into the room, leaned close, and whispered into Tilda's ear.

"My lady, we have good news. We've received word that the will has been obtained."

"Really?"

Could things truly go this smoothly?

Tilda's eyes sparkled.

The servant nodded.

"The servants delivering the will are waiting outside at the front gate."

"Good. I'll go meet them."

As if fortune itself had smiled upon her.

Tilda strode toward the front entrance with several servants following behind.

"...What?"

There was no one there.

She even stepped outside to look, but not so much as the shadow of a carriage could be seen.

They said they were delivering the will. So where are they?

Just as irritation began to well up inside her—

A violent gust of wind suddenly swept through the mansion.

The windows burst open, and every candle in the chandeliers was snuffed out.

"Oh my!"

"Where did that wind come from?"

"What are you all doing? Call the court mages! Relight the chandeliers!"

The servants panicked while the butlers calmly issued orders.

The mages hurriedly began chanting spells to rekindle the candles.

Then it happened.

The darkness was suddenly broken.

Or rather—

Only part of it was.

A beam of light, like a theater spotlight, illuminated the upper landing of the central staircase, drawing every eye toward it.

A woman stood there.

She had pink hair and wore a white masquerade mask.

The moment people saw her, murmurs broke out.

"What is she wearing?"

"Goodness... how indecent..."

She was dressed like a bunny girl one might expect to see in Halim, an outfit that accentuated the curves of her body.

A swallowtail-style coat concealed most of her skin, but even so, the way it outlined her figure was scandalous by the Empire's conservative standards.

Still wearing the elegant white mask of a ballroom guest, she raised her voice.

"Let all be silent!"

Like the ringmaster of a grand circus, she projected her voice across the hall.

"Injustice has descended upon this world and cast it into chaos!"

Her delivery was somewhat awkward, but she compensated by shouting with all her might.

"Thus have I descended from the shadows to uphold justice!"

The stunned crowd stared at her.

One servant finally shouted,

"Who the hell are you?! Do you have any idea where you've broken into?!"

The mysterious masked woman laughed heartily.

"As for who I am... I am Pepe of the Bunny Swallows! I have come to stop the atrocities committed within this mansion and uphold the justice the world has abandoned!"

"What?! How dare you spout such nonsense in this place?!"

"This place? Why, everyone already knows what this place truly is! A den where wealth and evil gather together to weave their conspiracies!"

She dramatically struck the floor with her cane and gestured with theatrical flair.

The servants erupted in outrage.

"Lord Dandolo fed and supported countless people! How dare you slander him!"

"Rico Dandolo! I knew many remained loyal to his children! But tell me—why is your loyalty nothing more than empty words?"

"What the hell are you talking about?! Do we look like people who only pretend to be loyal?!"

"How utterly tragic! You are blind despite having eyes and deaf despite having ears! A witch has made her home in this mansion, and yet you all pretend not to see her!"

"A witch? Who are you calling a witch?"

The word sent everyone looking around in confusion.

Tilda Pascal also glanced about uneasily.

She desperately hoped the accursed phantom thief had chosen the wrong target.

"Tilda Pascal!"

The masked woman called her by name without hesitation.

A second spotlight immediately illuminated Tilda where she stood.

Every eye turned toward her.

"You filthy witch's hound. Why do you cower like a frightened dog?"

Caught beneath everyone's gaze, Tilda froze.

"You devoured your father-in-law... then your husband... and now you seek to devour even your own blood. Wicked serpent, your evil ends here! Before all gathered, I shall reveal the very reins by which you hold this estate in your grasp!"

Just as the masked woman reached inside her jacket—

Tilda saw what she was about to pull out.

Her pupils shrank in terror.

"There she is! The intruder!"

At that instant, countless soldiers stormed through the entrance.

Crossbows were already raised in their hands.

"Fire!"

Thwip!

A volley of bolts shot straight toward the pink-haired phantom thief.

BOOM!

Just before the bolts struck—

A cloud of pure white smoke erupted from the mysterious thief's body.

In an instant, it swallowed the entire area, completely obscuring everyone's vision.

"Ahhh!"

"Cough! Cough!"

"An intruder! Don't let them escape!"

The maids and servants hurried to safety while the soldiers sprang into action.

Meanwhile, Tilda stared at the place where the pink-haired phantom thief had been standing.

Where is she?

She searched the cloud of white smoke for any sign of the woman.

Where did she go?

She had to find her.

She had to find her before anyone else did.

"My lady!"

Someone suddenly grabbed Tilda by the arm.

"This way! We need to get you to safety!"

Mistaking her stunned silence for shock, a servant hurriedly pulled her along.

Feigning panic, Tilda allowed herself to be led.

"We'll escort you to the shelter immediately. Once you're there—"

"No!"

Tilda cut him off.

"There's no need to go all the way to the shelter. I'll hide in my room."

"Understood. Then this way...!"

The servant escorted her to her bedroom.

"Please don't come out! Wait until everything has settled down!"

"I understand."

The door closed behind her.

With an anxious expression, Tilda paced the room before lightly tapping the door with her index finger.

The instant she touched it, a crimson barrier spread outward from her fingertip and completely covered the door.

Now no one could pass through it.

"What the hell was that lunatic?"

Tilda's face twisted with fury.

That shameless outfit.

Calling herself Pepe.

"Bunny Swallows? What the hell is that? Who's trying to screw me over?"

She had never heard of such an organization—or such a phantom thief.

Who was behind this?

Stephan?

Merchant?

Herman?

Or perhaps one of Rico Dandolo's old schemes from before she poisoned him?

But none of that was the real issue.

How does she know I made a contract with a witch?

A Garden Contract had one overwhelming advantage:

Unless magic was cast directly in front of someone, it was impossible to expose.

Tilda had always used her magic with extreme caution.

She had painstakingly transformed this estate into her own.

No one should have known.

Even if they somehow had...

There was one thing she couldn't understand.

How did they figure out the medium?

The object that the woman calling herself Pepe had tried to expose.

Although she'd been interrupted before pulling it out completely, Tilda had caught a glimpse of it.

Something small.

Thin enough to hide inside a jacket.

Her own contract medium fit that exact description.

Could it be...

No... impossible.

She couldn't be certain.

She wanted to believe it had only been a bluff meant to frighten her.

But she couldn't convince herself.

She had to check.

Tilda moved.

Crossing her spacious bedroom, she stopped before a desk drawer beneath a framed portrait of herself.

She opened the drawer.

Inside lay another picture frame, face down.

She reached to turn it over.

"I figured it'd be somewhere in your room. So it was there after all."

A calm voice pierced the silence.

Startled, Tilda spun around.

Standing where no one should have been...

...was a man.

Brown hair tied into a ponytail.

Like the shameless phantom thief, he wore a mask over his face.

"Y-You... who are you? How did you get in here...?"

"How do you think? While that pink-haired phantom thief had everyone's attention? Or maybe from the moment I grabbed your wrist and led you away?"

Only then did Tilda finally understand the outrageous trick.

The woman putting on the theatrical performance...

...had only been bait.

The real objective had been to lure Tilda into checking the contract medium herself.

The brown-haired man nodded toward the frame in her hands.

"So that's the real medium for your Garden Contract?"

Instinctively, Tilda hugged the frame tightly against her chest.

"Die!"

A magic circle instantly appeared.

From it emerged the head of a snake.

With white scales and golden eyes, it perfectly matched the serpents described in ancient texts.

"Wow... so you really did make a contract with Yor Philiase. Black Bandana's intelligence network really is something."

The Serpent of Yor Philiase.

A single bite carried a deadly venom capable of melting a victim without leaving even a corpse behind.

The snake flicked its tongue as dozens more coiled around Tilda, threatening the intruder.

"Cute."

Zed was a member of the Red-Eyed Tribe.

His race possessed the ability to disrupt and nullify magical formations simply by revealing their crimson eyes.

Yet he made no move to uncover them.

The reason was simple.

There was no need to use a butcher's knife to kill a chicken.

He leaned forward—

Then shot ahead like an arrow released from a bow.

"Kill him! Snakes! Tear him apart!"

Dozens of serpents lunged after him.

None could catch him.

He was the same acrobat who had effortlessly evaded the attacks of two wolf monsters.

Slash.

A thin trail of Aura sliced through the air, leaving pale afterimages.

Each time the shimmering line passed, another serpent's head separated cleanly from its body.

Within moments, dozens of snakes had become dozens of bloody chunks scattered across the floor.

"Ugh...!"

Tilda's expression changed.

Her face began transforming into that of a serpent.

She intended to spit venom.

But by the time she'd made that decision—

The brown-haired man was already standing right in front of her.

"Gotcha."

"Ahhh!"

He smashed the back of her hand with the hilt of his dagger.

The frame slipped from her grasp.

With practiced ease, he snatched it out of the air and leaped backward.

"Let's see... So this is the medium our promising little witch chose."

Turning the frame over, he let out a whistle.

"Huh... Now that's something I never would've guessed."

"G-Give it back! Right now!"

Tilda screamed.

Zed ignored her.

He removed the painting from the frame and grasped it firmly with both hands.

"Nothing personal."

"It's just business."

Riiip!

He tore it straight down the middle.

Like a cheap flyer bought at a street market, it ripped apart with almost no resistance.

"...Ah..."

The instant it split in two...

A crimson aura burst from within the torn paper.

The power rapidly intensified, condensing until it distorted the air itself.

Whooom!

"Whoa?!"

The shockwave forced Zed backward.

Farther away, Tilda lunged like a wild beast and desperately gathered up the torn pieces.

"No...!"

He's coming.

She was coming.

Slowly...

Tilda frantically pressed the pieces together, trying to restore them.

"No...! No...! This can't be happening!"

Spilled water could never be gathered again.

A broken medium could never be repaired.

At that moment...

A sinister presence began filling the room.

An overwhelming sense of dread settled over everything.

"Looks like it's time for my exit."

"So long."

Not wanting any part of what was coming, Zed immediately fled.

Tilda wasn't capable of making such an escape.

She remained where she was, kneeling on the floor, trembling uncontrollably.

Then she heard it.

The sound of a snake's tongue.

Something long and wet slowly licked around the edge of her ear.

—Hehehe...

A chilling laugh followed.

Unable even to turn around, she froze.

The color drained from her face.

"Poor Tilda... Such a pitiful Tilda. Our contract has been broken."

"N-No..."

Tilda answered through trembling lips.

"I-I can fix this, Lady Yor! Please...!"

"No, child. You have failed. Did I not order you to protect the medium of our contract at all costs? Yet you failed to do so."

The voice laughed as though thoroughly amused.

Tilda pleaded again.

"I'll kill that man! I'll prove my worth!"

"There is no need, dear child. The moment you reached for ambitions beyond your station... your downfall was already inevitable."

Something long and leathery brushed across her cheek.

Then came mocking laughter.

Tears streamed down Tilda's face as she begged.

"Please... don't abandon me. I'll be your loyal dog. Just give me one more chance..."

She begged.

And begged.

The only answer she received was—

"Snakes do not cry, you useless thing."

The presence vanished.

At that same instant, Tilda felt something change.

Whatever had enveloped the estate suddenly disappeared in an instant.

The spell that had sustained Tilda Pascal... had been broken.