Lennox Carlyle stood in front of a deep, massive void.
Where the Marquisâs mansion had once stood, now only a large, empty hole remained.
The dark hollow, where light couldnât reach, consumed his view.
Soon, he found himself standing in a familiar landscape again.
[I wish you suffered as much as I did.]
That summer in the north was clear and cool. But for the people of the ducal estate, it felt like hell.
After losing her child, Juliet often spent time in a daze. Instead of crying or screaming, she had found a more efficient way to torment him.
She started neglecting herself.
On the smaller scale, she smashed all the glass ornaments in the castle, or broke all the roses in the garden by hand.
Because of this, he couldnât take his eyes off Juliet for even a moment.
It felt like an ominous premonition.
It felt like if he looked away for even a moment, Juliet wouldnât be there anymore.
When he got angry, asking if she was out of her mind, Juliet just gave a faint smile.
That was the only time Juliet managed a weak smile.
But in reality, she didnât know what angered him.
Truthfully, Lennox didnât care about the broken glass or ruined garden. They were worthless no matter how much was spent on them.
He was just concerned about her bare feet being cut by the glass and her fingers being pricked by the rose thorns.
A man who had never bowed to anyone knelt willingly under the bed of the woman with injured feet.
One summer dawn, as he bandaged the sleeping womanâs ankle, he suddenly realized something.
The reason he endlessly gazed at the sleeping womanâs peaceful face was due to a childish and inexplicable emotion.
He realized he had been mistaken thinking he could discard her whenever he wanted.
It was an emotion he had realized far too late.
It was also too late to impose this emotion on Juliet, who only responded to his anger like an ignorant young beast.
Marquis Guinness had whipped her, but he, too, had inflicted countless invisible bruises on her.
[I hate to show it.]
Juliet disliked revealing her skin. Even on hot days, she insisted on wearing long clothes. More accurately, she didnât want others to see the marks of persistent abuse.
But at some point, Juliet didnât even care about that. She no longer hid her scars, nor was she embarrassed to show her emaciated back and shoulders.
She even stopped secretly taking care of orphaned fox cubs every year. Lennox felt that this was a bad sign.
[Just kill me.]
With dry lips devoid of any emotion, Juliet said one day.
It was the one sentence he feared the most.
Only then did he realize.
Why he was so desperate at Julietâs every expression, every word.
The woman who once blindly adored him was no longer there.
Even if he begged at her feet, Juliet would not give him even a hint of a cold laugh.
He might not have inflicted the wounds directly, but he had cornered Juliet.
If emotional scars could be engraved on the skin, he was no different from the Marquis who had abused her.
Juliet had completely lost the will to live.
He knew she was slowly withering away and dying, but the foolish man never learned how to let her go.
Afterwards, he hesitated many times in front of her closed door, but the woman who had once shut him out never looked back at him.
(How pathetic.)
Lennox suddenly lifted his head.
(Are you still afraid of being rejected? Right?)
A black panther the size of a house playfully twirled its tail.
(So, if you get that artifact, you think you can save your woman this time?)
ââŚShut up.â
The black panther chuckled as if entertained.
(Well, even if you deal with that snake, whether the woman forgives you is another matter, isnât it?)
At a glance, humans who contracted with artifacts seemed to gain powerful abilities without any cost.
However, Lennox knew for sure.
Entities from beyond this dimension, cunning and malevolent, never give anything without a price.
Whether itâs being tormented by hallucinations and delusions for life, or paying a price that passes from one generation to another.
Typically, spirits preferred negative emotions like fear and pain.
Lennox guessed that this arrogant panther kept bringing up the painful past for that very reason.
âYour Highness.â
Lennox turned around.
His aide looked at him with a worried expression.
Since the Duke had been staring at the collapsed mansion for quite a while, he seemed concerned.
âAre you alright?â
âItâs nothing serious.â
Lennox replied casually.
âItâs not like anyone died.â
The knights also looked at the spot where the Marquisâs mansion had once stood.
He was right.
The group from Duke Carlyle had almost been caught in the collapse, but they managed to get out in time. Fortunately, there were no injuries.
âThe collapse seems to be due to weakened foundations.â
âI heard that this kind of thing has been happening frequently in the south recently.â
âI couldnât imagine a mansion of this size collapsingâŚâ
The knights reported calmly, but their faces looked concerned.
They all had the same thought in mind.
The southern journey of Duke Carlyle proceeded quietly. Yet, just as he was about to set foot in the mansion, it collapsed.
He could have lost his life. It wouldnât be strange if someone intentionally targeted his life.
âWas it the doing of Marquis Guinness?â
âBut the Marquis has been declared missing.â
Officially he was missing, but the knights knew that Marquis Guinness could no longer hatch any schemes.
ââŚâ
While the knights exchanged grave opinions, Lennox gazed into the vast, empty void.
(Ah, it reminds me of the old times.)
Slithering beside him was an evil spirit in the form of a black panther.
(Youâre reminiscing about the past all of a sudden? Hmm?)
The black panther licked its lips.
Although the black panther seemed lost in memories, Lennox understood what the spirit was saying.
About twenty years ago, he was thrown into a cave on a battlefield, boiling with all kinds of demons.
The appearance of that cave was similar to this one, although much narrower and filled with terrifying entities.
During his time there, he learned how delectable the bloodline of the Carlyle family was and how it could summon dangerous spirits.
The deep underground path was impressive, but what was more surprising was the circular mark drawn around the hole.
With the mansionâs collapse, the traces left in the underground of the mansion were revealed.
âCome to think of itâŚâ
At a glance, it was a summoning circle, the kind that magicians would use.
âWhat kind of summoning circle is this?â
A round circle that started from the surrounding forest covered the mansionâs surroundings. It was as if the entire mansion was a huge summoning circle.
Inside the circle was a pattern resembling a snake, and around it were scattered pieces of transparent crimson stones.
Sir Milan furrowed his brows.
âIt seems to be the artificial magic stones that Marquis Guinness was selling.â
The artificially red stone was a trace of a magic stone.
Marquis Guinness pretended to mine magic stones while actually using a forbidden spell to turn captured orphans and vagrants into magic stones from their human bodies.
Even if one wasnât a magician, most humans have some mana. Although using it in such a way it was madness.
(Who do you think taught him that?)
The black panther, which had quietly approached, looked significant.
(The method of artificially creating a magic stone.)
Lennox mumbled without smiling.
âHe summoned it with this.â
âHuh? What are you talking about?â
âThe snakeâs main body.â
ââŚA snake?â
âYes.â
Perhaps the evil spirit awakened by Marquis Guinness told him the method to artificially create magic stones. Maybe it promised to make him rich.
It was a basic tactic used by demonic beings. These entities deftly prey on human weaknesses and desires.
The foolish Marquis might have been delighted with the artificially created magic stones, but in reality, he was merely being used.
Evil spirits, being from another dimension, couldnât interfere too much in this place, regardless of their deity status.
(But if you offer human souls as a price, you can summon an incomplete body.)
The black panther listening to the conversation smirked.
The magic stones, created by sacrificing numerous people, must have been used to amplify the power of the spirit summoned by the Marquis.
Although Lennox Carlyle, his contractor, was a man who didnât associate with demons, he never allowed such actions.
Giving authority to an evil spirit might result in constant hallucinations or mental degradation, leading to death. It was a wise attitude.
Marquis Guinness might not have known.
(We canât tell them. Itâs a promise.)
The black panther seemed pleased, wagging its tail.
(But among us, thereâs one who particularly despises humans to the point of resembling one.)
Lennox fiddled with the knot tied to his sword.
A knight from the Dukeâs house said that Juliet once asked the Fran couple if they had a daughter.
In other words, itâs highly likely that Juliet had contact with Dahlia in the past he didnât know about. It was a development he didnât want.
If the custody was merely bait to lure him here, and the real plan was to contact Juliet like in the past?
A falcon with a sharp whistle landed gracefully on a knightâs arm.
âMilan.â
âYes, Your Highness.â
The knight with the falcon on his arm looked back at him.
âTell the castle to prepare for a hunt.â
Milan doubted his ears.
âA hunt?â
âYes.â
The Duke, mounted on his horse, hurriedly responded as he prepared to depart.
But Milan, with a confused face, inquired again.
âWhat kind of hunt are you talking about?â
The castle refers to the North. But suddenly, a hunt?
âWe have to catch a snake.â
However, Duke Carlyle, gripping the reins, answered succinctly.