Charlotte threw herself onto the bed while Caroline lit a candle, ensuring that no one was listening before closing the door.
"Serpent-chicken." Charlotte had already seen a specimen of this peculiar creature in her father’s collection hall.
An alchemist collecting strange creatures was already uncommon, but the wealthy always had eccentric hobbies.
And when it came to wealthy nobles, those hobbies could be even more extravagant. In that regard, her father seemed almost moderate.
"We can't be sure until we see it with our own eyes," Caroline replied, with her usual caution.
"Then let’s find it!" The way Charlotte said this made it sound as simple as deciding what to have for dinner that night.
Grabbing the black box, she urged Caroline, "Let’s find it and tear it to pieces."
Caroline shook her head. "Sorry, miss. It's not 'we.' You will stay here, and I will go after the serpent-chicken."
"No! I'm going too!"
"You’re not immune to its venom. I can handle it alone."
"No!"
"Obey."
Charlotte shot an angry glance at Caroline, who remained unfazed. In the end, Charlotte relented, huffing as she threw the black box on the floor and crossed her arms, sitting on the bed.
Caroline gave a slight bow as an apology and was about to leave when Charlotte called her.
"Wait, Caroline."
"Miss, do you have any other instructions?" Caroline turned, only to find her arms suddenly full of equipment.
"A short pistol loaded with alchemical fuel, plenty of spare ammunition, explosive mines, alchemical cyclones... See what else you need."
Caroline’s expression softened as she looked at Charlotte. "This is more than enough, miss. Something is off with this situation, so please stay prepared and rest. When I come back, we’ll solve it together. Sleep well. I'll take care of everything."
"You’ll come back safely, right?"
"Of course, miss. I'm perfect, remember?"
Caroline packed everything up and gave Charlotte a confident smile before leaving.
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Downstairs, Caroline noticed a bottle of wine on the shelf. She tapped the counter. "How much for this bottle, shopkeeper?"
Venym, who had been lying on the counter as if it were his bed, jumped at the mention of wine. Without even checking which bottle it was, he started boasting, "Ah, miss, you have good taste! This bottle is a secret recipe from my family. My great-grandfather saw a wolf chasing sheep and..."
Clink.
The sound of silver coins falling into Caroline's hand cut off his story. Money bought many things, including silence.
Up in the room, Charlotte was alone, holding an amulet.
The pendant was a white drop wrapped in delicate emerald-green vines. It was a gift from the queen to her father, Eofa, when he received the title of Philosopher Knight.
It was said that the amulet could save him in moments of need. Before leaving, he had given the amulet to Charlotte as a protective talisman.
Caroline had said something was wrong, and Charlotte could feel it too. She probably wanted Charlotte to stay in the room and not act rashly. But what exactly was wrong?
She remembered Susan’s body, whose blood had completely vanished, something typical of the serpent-chicken’s venom. But was that all?
Perhaps the answer was obvious.
Caroline seemed to have a clear idea of the problem, but what could it be?
Charlotte stood up, strapped the black box to her back, and extinguished the candle.
Caroline had told her to wait for her, and Charlotte would do that — but not without seeking her own answers.
She had to do something not exactly ethical.
The darkness took a moment to claim the place of the light as the last traces of the candle disappeared, wrapping the room in shadows.
..........
On the outskirts of the village, an ancient forest had been growing for two hundred years without restrictions, with no trails for humans.
Dead trees with twisted branches like dry hands formed arches. Dried weeds created a narrow trail.
Caroline drove her blade into a dead tree, opening a triangular cut. Kneeling, she examined the cut.
Even in the depths, the inside was dry and lifeless.
The tree, with a trunk as thick as the mouth of a jar, seemed to have died suddenly. Its leaves still hung on the branches, not having fallen.
She had confirmed with Venym before leaving: this was the last place the serpent-chicken had been seen. Everything aligned with the report that "wherever it steps, the vegetation dies."
The dense canopy blocked the bluish moonlight, plunging the forest into complete darkness.
Occasionally, dead branches tangled in the path, and the sound of the wind passing through the dry leaves made the environment even more unsettling.
Caroline pushed aside the branches and continued along the dry trail, heading toward the unknown.
The trail quickly ended, just as the village lights were fading behind her. Caroline realized the serpent-chicken was relaxed, not emitting toxins.
These creatures only released their venom when they felt threatened, killing plants, animals, and even humans nearby. But the idea of its venom reaching the tip of a spear and killing the wielder seemed exaggerated.
She placed an alcohol-soaked snake on the ground, tied to a silver thread running through its body. It wasn’t her ideal bait, but it was all she had.
She climbed onto a high branch, blending into the darkness like an inert doll, waiting.
..........
Meanwhile, Charlotte, at another location, walked with a spade in her hand.
She trembled, not from the cold, but from the sinister feeling that emanated from the cemetery she was in.
Small, irregular hills marked graves with no defined pattern, and crude stones served as tombstones.
Murmuring prayers, she asked forgiveness from the souls buried there for her desecration, hoping they wouldn't visit her dreams.
If something was wrong, she was determined to find out what it was — even if she had to break the rules to do so.