CHAPTER 13
[Scylla, Lowly Peasant Half-breed, Maid]
[Demon Territory, De Gracia—Guest Mansion]
“Wait.”
The young lord called me when my hand was on the door handle. The moment he spoke, my back felt cold. I faced him. He sat on the chair with his legs crossed and smiled at me.
“There’s something I’d like to talk about.”
He said as he picked up the dog from the floor. The young lord smelled the tea’s aroma and played with it while patting the dog’s head.
“This is quite an elegant tea. Can you tell me where you got it?”
“It was tea from our tea maker, young lord.”
“I see. Well, give him my gratitude. And I must commend you for brewing this quite lovely.”
“This one appreciates the young lord’s compliment.”
There was an awful smile on the young lord’s face. He lowered the tea and let the dog smell it. The dog, who was half asleep, opened its eyes with glee and huffed playfully, wanting a sip of the tea.
“You want some?”
The young lord talked to the dog. He took the small plate below the cup and poured some of the tea on it. The dog barked and then proceeded to drink the tea from the plate.
“How about you, Scylla? Do you also want some? I’ll let you drink directly from my cup. An indirect kiss is nice too.”
The young lord looked at me.
“I must decline, young lord, for this one isn’t so noble as you are. That tea was made for the young lord, not this lowly one.”
“My, my, there’s no need to be so humble. Come, drink.”
It was only for a moment, but I could feel the coldness of the young lord’s words as he tried to offer me the drink. The same eyes that I saw during our walk in the slums. Despite his soft words, the underlying message he’s trying to infer made my heart sink. I knew the young lord was perceptive, but not to this extent. He saw through my entire act as quickly as I put the tea down on his desk.
“This one will humbly decline.”
The young lord smirked and returned to pat the dog. A few seconds had passed, and the dog suddenly jerked upwards, and a foam formed on its mouth. It gargled for a while as the young lord regarded it with uninterested eyes, and the dog died. I stood by the door, frozen.
My mind raced.
At this moment, my mind was trying to come up with the possibility of escaping. Trying to assassinate the young lord now without getting noticed was simply impossible. The young lord had already seen through the poisoning, and the one guarding him was a high-ranking knight. There was no chance for me to try to deceive him, and the knight would kill me the instant he perceived any bloodlust.
Even if I attack the young lord now, he’ll be able to at least buy a few seconds for the knight to come in and assist him.
Escaping was my only way of being alive.
“Well, Scylla. What happened to the dog?”
The young lord wiped the foam off of the dead dog’s mouth.
“......”
“Are you not going to answer?”
I’m cornered.
. . .
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[Deilos, Son of the Demon Lord Dantalion, Young Lord]
[Demon Territory, De Gracia—Guest Mansion]
“Do you know who poisoned the tea?”
“I cannot answer.”
“Did you poison it?”
“I cannot answer.”
“Why?”
“I cannot answer.”
“Is there a particular reason you can’t? I’m being impatient here.”
“This one apologizes, but that is something that even this one cannot absolutely do. This one knows the frustration of the young lord. But, even if this one would like to tell it, she ultimately cannot do so under any circumstances.”
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Given that she’s hesitating, she’s most likely reluctant to poison me in the first place. That’s what I’m getting from her responses. She’s at least cooperating with me half-heartedly, which means she’s more willing to stay alive than go with her plans to murder me.
This doesn’t come from nowhere. Although it’s possible that she was planning to kill me from the very beginning, that doesn’t seem to be the case.
Why did she wait this long?
I don’t know.
Why did she do it in a way I can discern quickly?
I don’t know.
If that’s the case, that means there’s a chance this whole thing was ordered by someone else instead of her own choice.
I looked at the dog.
“If this dead dog were to be reanimated and then restrained, it wouldn’t be able to do certain things, no?”
I asked Scylla and observed her every movement. At this moment, I can feel her urge to get out of the room and escape. If I want to know why she’s doing this, then it’s here.
She thought for a while and replied cautiously.
“Yes, that is correct.”
“Is there a possibility of it not being able to speak?”
“Yes.”
“Certain actions?”
“Yes.”
“If the dog is going to do something that would violate the orders, would the dog die?”
“That is a possibility.”
A possibility, huh......
Interesting. She’s willing to give me vague answers, but when faced with blunter ones, she isn’t going to answer. There’s foul play here, as if she’s being controlled......
Magic.
If magic is involved, then I’m going to have to look deeper. This is a world with demons—magic getting involved here is highly plausible.
“It seems like you’re understanding what I’m trying to do. Only if you cooperate with me are you going out of this room. If you're going to go as far as to deceive me again, then there isn’t certainty that you’re going to even sleep tonight. Well, leaving that aside, regarding the dead dog, how do you suppose we restrain it? Do we just leash it or something else?”
She looked at me worriedly. Her small hands were clenched and were shaking ever so subtly.
“......”
She sighed lightly and replied.
“It is...... the most efficient way should be by a Contract of Slavery.”
Contract of Slavery.
Although I’m not adept in the magic of this world, I read a section of it in one of the books I took from the library.
To use magic, one must draw from their very soul, their very being, and with that comes the phenomena that you apply it with.
If you want to conjure up a fire, then you can imagine multiple ways of doing it. Using your body heat and your soul as the fuel. Using another body of fire and replicating it with your soul as that copy. So on and so forth. This is a rough idea, but it’s good enough to have an idea of what magic in this world is.
The Contract of Slavery is a type of runic magic to enslave someone by engraving a rune to manipulate the soul of a person. The rune can be ingrained with certain restraints; may it be that they can’t do certain actions or even die because of those actions.
Such sickening magic.
If this is what’s keeping her from answering my questions, then I’ll have to come up with something that can bypass that restraint.
I thought for a while before asking again.
“Then who do you pay your greatest respect to?”
Scylla’s face looked stunned for a moment.
This should do.
A question that’s not supposed to gather information about who’s the mastermind, but a question about her personal opinion. It’s a question that can be interpreted in multiple ways and answered in multiple ways. Even if you answer it, there’s no definitive information to be interpreted here other than who she respects.
Now, Scylla, it’s your choice.
What will you choose?
Are you going to align with me, or will you face death?
The choice is yours.
She thought. She thought for a long while. As I patted the dog’s corpse, she looked at me, her yellow eyes, the fragile-looking body, the beautiful face—all of it was directed at me. She closed her eyes as if she had resolved something in her, then her face became cold as usual.
She opened her mouth.
“The head of the Noble House of Serra. This one respects the head of the Noble House of Serra the most.”
Found it.
A small laugh crept from my mouth. To think this is the work of humans again does make me a bit relieved. Humans in this world are nothing but trash. Now that I’m being targeted again, only cements such facts.
I let out a long sigh as I sat in the chair more comfortably. The dog on my lap shifted its head.
“Ahhh...... aren’t you quite as cute as always?”
Despite being a corpse, the dog was still quite warm in some places, though most of its body was cold now.
“Scylla, let’s not reanimate the dog.”
“......Yes.”
I smiled at her.
A genuine smile.
Despite her trying to poison me, she’s visibly conflicted. Even if you may not speak about your feelings, I’m well aware that I am at least considered someone mildly close to you.
A friend, perhaps? Well, along those lines.
“You also don’t want to. Don’t you, Scylla? I find that reanimating the dog and constricting it is a rather disgusting thing. I would rather respect it by burying its corpse. Though, I’m rather angry at those that do reanimate dogs to only do that.”
“This one is also disgusted.”
“Now, now. Cut with the horrific. If you want to address yourself around me, you can use ‘I,’ understood?”
“......I understand.”
I stretched out my hand.
“Let’s find the bastard that reanimates dogs.”
She looked at me for a while, thinking.
I’m relieved. Even after all of that bullshit, it seems like Scylla is still Scylla. I've had my doubts, but she didn't disappoint. To find such a person who can understand me this deeply is a rare one, to find someone who can think like me this closely was near impossible, and to be able to find such a person who has both is a match only made by divine intervention.
Having someone with those traits in front of me is truly unbelievable.
“I look forward to working with you.”
She shook my hand.
“Yes, young lord Deilos.”
. . .
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