How much time had passed since my abrupt abduction from the café, I was uncertain.
I drifted into unconsciousness with one last thought, I wondered if the Duke worried about me, and finally, I opened my eyes.
My face was dripping with something I couldn’t tell if it was sweat or water, and the dress I was wearing had long since been reduced to rags.
A windowless room, probably no more than a square meter, greeted me. Foul-smelling drops of water were trickling down from the ceiling.
“Finally, you’re awake.”
I scanned my surroundings with all five senses. From what I knew, this was the torture chamber, the heart of the Duke of Cornwall’s manor.
I stared at the Duke of Cornwall before me, limbs chained to the torture chair.
“Hmph…”
I let out a deliberate groan, and I could see his mouth curve into an ugly grin. I grimaced and blinked my hazy eyes again.
‘I don’t feel any pain.’
Expecting the final villain to morbidly search my body, I had taken a numbing drug earlier in the day before leaving work. The fact that it turned my skin to steel was a bonus.
‘My life is very precious.’
I made a guttural sound like I was in pain, even though I wasn’t.
“Oh, my gosh, it hurts, Oh, I’m going to die…”
…I thought I had gotten better at acting, but apparently not.
The moment I spoke, I was met with a suspicious glance from Cornwall. I let out a quick, muffled scream of pain, grimaced, and struggled helplessly against my bound arms.
“Welcome to the torture chamber,” Cornwall muttered darkly.
Twisting the ropes to catch his attention, I feigned a struggle to free myself, hoping he’d be too distracted by my actions to notice that his torture chamber wasn’t moving the way it should.
‘We need to buy some time here, at least.’
The calculation was that while I distracted the Duke of Cornwall, my brother would retrieve any papers or records that might be hidden in the manor.
“If you’re wondering who I am…”
Well, if you’re so curious, I’ll tell you a thousand tales. You wretch!
“I am… the Duke of Cornwall, and I know your past.”
He clicked his tongue mockingly and stood in front of the table, right next to the chair. Several long-spouted flasks were bubbling with liquid, the color of which resembled a mud slime that seemed dangerous enough to ingest.
“I can’t even be bothered to listen to your rubbish.”
He was probably planning to drug me and kill me or mummify me.
It was said that the Dark Villain was driven mad by a ‘hidden past,’ but what exactly that past was was not known to the world. But I had a pretty good eye. I turned my gaze to the portrait of a woman that sat preciously on his table.
And I remembered the original information about the Duke of Cornwall. A short narrative about how he was once brilliant, but went mad after one family member after another was questioned.
‘A dead family member must have been the trigger point.’
“Why, you exterminated the Vietry family.”
“You’re provoking me. You don’t want to die, do you?”
“It’s because of your dead family, isn’t it?”
I tossed out the dice.
The Duke of Cornwall, who was busily mixing, brewing, and concocting a potion, threw the vial down on the table.
“Have you gone mad?”
He leaned in close, his face directly in front of mine.
Rage flared in his frighteningly cold face. I realized I’d said the right thing.
“Why? Family love must be raging.”
Swallowing bitterly as I said the words, …while killing other people’s families, I glared at him defiantly.
“I know who your family was killed by and why.”
It was necessary to keep provoking the Duke of Cornwall into an argument.
That way, I could hold out until my brother, who must have been scouring the manor, finally found a solution and Mimi came to get me.
One corner of my lips twitched up in a smile at him.
Cassian chewed his lip as he gazed up at the sprawling, quagmire-like mansion.
As he pushed his way through the dilapidated mansion, he found himself in a small maze of secret passageways.
The plan to destroy the magic circle within Cornwall Manor, which I had thought impossible, had been realized thanks to the magic tools Astel had handed me.
‘The spell book is likely in the archives.’
From what I’ve gathered and shared with Rachel, the Duke of Cornwall has a pathological obsession with records.
We also found testimony that his mansion was filled with all manner of cryptic records.
Entering the secret passage, Cassian easily crossed the magic circle he had destroyed last night and stood directly in front of the archives.
‘And here, in the heart of the archives.’
The backs of his hands went cold and the hairs on his arms stood on end. The only light in the darkened room was the tiny torch he held in his hand.
Thump, thump—
Cassian took a step forward, relying on the dim light in the bitterly cold air.
Keeping his footsteps as soundless as possible, he passed shelf after shelf, stopping at what he assumed to be a collection of relatively recent records.
He reached an endless row of tall shelves.
The Tower of Babel-like shelves were surrounded by a silvery cloud of what he assumed to be poisonous mist, which made him curious.
With a quick flick of his tool, Cassian dispelled the fog and frowned at the tome at eye level.
[a—o]
The spine was scrawled with a cryptic code, the exact meaning of which was unknown.
He’d mastered all manner of ciphers in his quest for revenge for his family, but he’d never seen a symbol like this before.
‘She said we must not leave this place without cracking the code, or… the records will be lost.’
The ciphers on the records inside Cornwall Manor were like living magic, and it would be futile to steal them without a complete decryption.
Cassian paused for a moment, beating himself up for his past excellence in cryptography.
‘It’s like a magic password…’
But no matter how baffling, there’s always a way out.
Sigh—
At that moment, it wasn’t hard for Cassian’s keen senses to recognize the cold blade at the nape of his neck.
With a knife at his throat, Cassian jerked his head around, unfazed.
“What the hell.”
A scrawny man, presumably the lowest ranking of the archivists, came into view.
‘Got you, little bugger, decipher it.’
Cassian, a man whose years of warfare had made him an expert on people, smirked.
“Why, stab him, that’ll hurt, won’t it?”
The caretaker’s face turned pale.
Cassian held the rattling tip of the blade in one hand, shamelessly thinking that anyone would think he had stabbed him.
“Who the hell is coming in here? I’ll tell my superiors at once—”
“Yes, you will. Go ahead. Just be quiet.”
Cassian, who had activated a mute for fear that the man who had stabbed him would shout, fumbled in his pockets for his bondage tools and spoke softly.
“And your master? Didn’t you know he was dead?”
Not dead yet, of course.
But he was about to be, and the caretaker’s complexion grew whiter.
“So, is it possible for an outsider to break into this place, does that mean we should go, and the family…”
He paused. Cassian clicked his tongue, then stroked the man’s head affectionately, pressing the bondage tool into place.
The servant’s fingers twitched for a moment, then stopped.
“An outsider cast the spell…”
Cassian shrugged at the despair in his tone and explained lightly.
“I wonder why, myself. I’ll tie you up for a bit. Stay quiet?”
Despite his gentle tone as he handled the little guy, the servant’s face was wet with tears.
Cassian, however, smiled fondly.
He had no intention of taking the life of a stranger, like those who had brought down House Vietry.
Satisfied that his binding tool was in working order, he patted the man’s hand on the floor and chuckled in the trademark manner of the Flower of the Capital.
Turning his gaze back to the coded record in front of him, he scoffed.
“You do have a way to read this, don’t you?”
“I don’t…”
“You don’t think so?”
Cassian looked down at the man coldly.
“You know, a way.”
A lowly servant, but in a way, a servant of House Cornwall. Cassian’s gaze quickly hardened.
The manor’s magic circle had been breached somehow, and if he could get the records and release them to the world, he could be exonerated.
The prospect made even the laid-back Cassian nervous and impatient.
“Tell me.”
“What the hell…”
The servant’s teeth clenched and shivered at his demeanor, unable to control his expression and frozen in time.
Cassian scanned the man from head to toe.
‘I don’t think you’re fluent in ciphers, and I’m sure there’s a decryption tool somewhere.’
If he doesn’t show it to me, then I’m going to find it.
He didn’t know the man in front of him, but Cassian had been a street thief in his youth, which meant he had a radar for anything valuable.
How much time had passed since my abrupt abduction from the café, I was uncertain.
I drifted into unconsciousness with one last thought, I wondered if the Duke worried about me, and finally, I opened my eyes.
My face was dripping with something I couldn’t tell if it was sweat or water, and the dress I was wearing had long since been reduced to rags.
A windowless room, probably no more than a square meter, greeted me. Foul-smelling drops of water were trickling down from the ceiling.
“Finally, you’re awake.”
I scanned my surroundings with all five senses. From what I knew, this was the torture chamber, the heart of the Duke of Cornwall’s manor.
I stared at the Duke of Cornwall before me, limbs chained to the torture chair.
“Hmph…”
I let out a deliberate groan, and I could see his mouth curve into an ugly grin. I grimaced and blinked my hazy eyes again.
‘I don’t feel any pain.’
Expecting the final villain to morbidly search my body, I had taken a numbing drug earlier in the day before leaving work. The fact that it turned my skin to steel was a bonus.
‘My life is very precious.’
I made a guttural sound like I was in pain, even though I wasn’t.
“Oh, my gosh, it hurts, Oh, I’m going to die…”
…I thought I had gotten better at acting, but apparently not.
The moment I spoke, I was met with a suspicious glance from Cornwall. I let out a quick, muffled scream of pain, grimaced, and struggled helplessly against my bound arms.
“Welcome to the torture chamber,” Cornwall muttered darkly.
Twisting the ropes to catch his attention, I feigned a struggle to free myself, hoping he’d be too distracted by my actions to notice that his torture chamber wasn’t moving the way it should.
‘We need to buy some time here, at least.’
The calculation was that while I distracted the Duke of Cornwall, my brother would retrieve any papers or records that might be hidden in the manor.
“If you’re wondering who I am…”
Well, if you’re so curious, I’ll tell you a thousand tales. You wretch!
“I am… the Duke of Cornwall, and I know your past.”
He clicked his tongue mockingly and stood in front of the table, right next to the chair. Several long-spouted flasks were bubbling with liquid, the color of which resembled a mud slime that seemed dangerous enough to ingest.
“I can’t even be bothered to listen to your rubbish.”
He was probably planning to drug me and kill me or mummify me.
It was said that the Dark Villain was driven mad by a ‘hidden past,’ but what exactly that past was was not known to the world. But I had a pretty good eye. I turned my gaze to the portrait of a woman that sat preciously on his table.
And I remembered the original information about the Duke of Cornwall. A short narrative about how he was once brilliant, but went mad after one family member after another was questioned.
‘A dead family member must have been the trigger point.’
“Why, you exterminated the Vietry family.”
“You’re provoking me. You don’t want to die, do you?”
“It’s because of your dead family, isn’t it?”
I tossed out the dice.
The Duke of Cornwall, who was busily mixing, brewing, and concocting a potion, threw the vial down on the table.
“Have you gone mad?”
He leaned in close, his face directly in front of mine.
Rage flared in his frighteningly cold face. I realized I’d said the right thing.
“Why? Family love must be raging.”
Swallowing bitterly as I said the words, …while killing other people’s families, I glared at him defiantly.
“I know who your family was killed by and why.”
It was necessary to keep provoking the Duke of Cornwall into an argument.
That way, I could hold out until my brother, who must have been scouring the manor, finally found a solution and Mimi came to get me.
One corner of my lips twitched up in a smile at him.
Cassian chewed his lip as he gazed up at the sprawling, quagmire-like mansion.
As he pushed his way through the dilapidated mansion, he found himself in a small maze of secret passageways.
The plan to destroy the magic circle within Cornwall Manor, which I had thought impossible, had been realized thanks to the magic tools Astel had handed me.
‘The spell book is likely in the archives.’
From what I’ve gathered and shared with Rachel, the Duke of Cornwall has a pathological obsession with records.
We also found testimony that his mansion was filled with all manner of cryptic records.
Entering the secret passage, Cassian easily crossed the magic circle he had destroyed last night and stood directly in front of the archives.
‘And here, in the heart of the archives.’
The backs of his hands went cold and the hairs on his arms stood on end. The only light in the darkened room was the tiny torch he held in his hand.
Thump, thump—
Cassian took a step forward, relying on the dim light in the bitterly cold air.
Keeping his footsteps as soundless as possible, he passed shelf after shelf, stopping at what he assumed to be a collection of relatively recent records.
He reached an endless row of tall shelves.
The Tower of Babel-like shelves were surrounded by a silvery cloud of what he assumed to be poisonous mist, which made him curious.
With a quick flick of his tool, Cassian dispelled the fog and frowned at the tome at eye level.
[a—o]
The spine was scrawled with a cryptic code, the exact meaning of which was unknown.
He’d mastered all manner of ciphers in his quest for revenge for his family, but he’d never seen a symbol like this before.
‘She said we must not leave this place without cracking the code, or… the records will be lost.’
The ciphers on the records inside Cornwall Manor were like living magic, and it would be futile to steal them without a complete decryption.
Cassian paused for a moment, beating himself up for his past excellence in cryptography.
‘It’s like a magic password…’
But no matter how baffling, there’s always a way out.
Sigh—
At that moment, it wasn’t hard for Cassian’s keen senses to recognize the cold blade at the nape of his neck.
With a knife at his throat, Cassian jerked his head around, unfazed.
“What the hell.”
A scrawny man, presumably the lowest ranking of the archivists, came into view.
‘Got you, little bugger, decipher it.’
Cassian, a man whose years of warfare had made him an expert on people, smirked.
“Why, stab him, that’ll hurt, won’t it?”
The caretaker’s face turned pale.
Cassian held the rattling tip of the blade in one hand, shamelessly thinking that anyone would think he had stabbed him.
“Who the hell is coming in here? I’ll tell my superiors at once—”
“Yes, you will. Go ahead. Just be quiet.”
Cassian, who had activated a mute for fear that the man who had stabbed him would shout, fumbled in his pockets for his bondage tools and spoke softly.
“And your master? Didn’t you know he was dead?”
Not dead yet, of course.
But he was about to be, and the caretaker’s complexion grew whiter.
“So, is it possible for an outsider to break into this place, does that mean we should go, and the family…”
He paused. Cassian clicked his tongue, then stroked the man’s head affectionately, pressing the bondage tool into place.
The servant’s fingers twitched for a moment, then stopped.
“An outsider cast the spell…”
Cassian shrugged at the despair in his tone and explained lightly.
“I wonder why, myself. I’ll tie you up for a bit. Stay quiet?”
Despite his gentle tone as he handled the little guy, the servant’s face was wet with tears.
Cassian, however, smiled fondly.
He had no intention of taking the life of a stranger, like those who had brought down House Vietry.
Satisfied that his binding tool was in working order, he patted the man’s hand on the floor and chuckled in the trademark manner of the Flower of the Capital.
Turning his gaze back to the coded record in front of him, he scoffed.
“You do have a way to read this, don’t you?”
“I don’t…”
“You don’t think so?”
Cassian looked down at the man coldly.
“You know, a way.”
A lowly servant, but in a way, a servant of House Cornwall. Cassian’s gaze quickly hardened.
The manor’s magic circle had been breached somehow, and if he could get the records and release them to the world, he could be exonerated.
The prospect made even the laid-back Cassian nervous and impatient.
“Tell me.”
“What the hell…”
The servant’s teeth clenched and shivered at his demeanor, unable to control his expression and frozen in time.
Cassian scanned the man from head to toe.
‘I don’t think you’re fluent in ciphers, and I’m sure there’s a decryption tool somewhere.’
If he doesn’t show it to me, then I’m going to find it.
He didn’t know the man in front of him, but Cassian had been a street thief in his youth, which meant he had a radar for anything valuable.
