Having run for quite some time, Konehl-Ghervil was nearly spent.
To catch up sooner, she had Esli go on ahead.
Midway, however, Esli turned back.
Unsuccessful in her pursuit, Esli found no one at the mayor’s mansion and, out of concern, decided to return first.
“…Was there any movement inside the mansion?”
Now walking, Konehl-Ghervil panted heavily as she inquired.
“None,” Esli replied. “It was utterly silent, without even a single guard or attendant outside the gate.”
“…We must brace ourselves for the worst,” Konehl-Ghervil murmured. “The dream has begun its countdown.”
The ominous clouds overhead grew steadily denser, completely obscuring the sun.
On their way, Konehl-Ghervil had noticed an expedition team arriving at an inn, though from a distance, their figures remained indistinct.
Still, their attire allowed her to vaguely discern members of The Order among them.
“What do we do now?” Esli asked, her ice axe brazenly slung over her shoulder, no longer caring for the stares of the townspeople.
After a moment of silence from the voice in her mind, Konehl-Ghervil relayed Govet-Ghervil’s answer.
“We continue to the mansion,” she stated. “We must find Mrs. Penelope.”
Her strength somewhat restored, she spurred her legs into a run once more.
Ten minutes later, the two arrived.
The grand gates stood wide open, while dark clouds swirled menacingly above the mansion, casting an eerie pall of absolute silence.
Though numerous residential homes dotted the vicinity, not a single sound of human activity could be heard.
The stillness was so profoundly abnormal it might as well have been a glaring sign, explicitly declaring ‘Something is amiss,’ plastered right on the wall.
Yet, there was no alternative; they had to enter.
In someone else’s dream, escape was futile, no matter where they fled.
Esli stepped forward, her footsteps light, taking the lead.
Konehl-Ghervil followed close behind, her senses acutely aware of her surroundings.
They passed through the courtyard without incident, reaching the grand hall on the first floor, where still no one was in sight.
Crash!
“Ah—!”
“Help me!”
From the left, the sound of something collapsing was followed by a fleeting cry for help.
Following the commotion, Esli burst through a door into a corridor.
Konehl-Ghervil hurried after her, pausing at the doorway to flick on the electric light switch, illuminating the room.
It was a spacious study, where a bookshelf directly opposite the door had toppled against the wall, scattering books everywhere.
Several volumes were stained with blood, and even more blood seeped from beneath the fallen shelf.
With a bookshelf of that size, anyone trapped beneath it was likely already dead.
Konehl-Ghervil sighed inwardly, her emotions remarkably steady.
She had discerned a male voice, elderly in tone, ruling out Dr. Callan and Mrs. Penelope.
The town’s local residents were, in essence, already deceased.
She was not so tender-hearted as to mourn for the departed.
Ceasing her unnecessary movements, she stood silently, observing Esli assume a chopping stance with her right hand on the axe, while her left cautiously lifted the bookshelf.
As the angle between the shelf and the floor widened, the scene beneath gradually came into view.
More scattered books piled up, revealing, at last, a single boot caked with mud and blood.
There, it paused.
With a forceful shove, Esli righted the entire bookshelf against the wall using only one hand.
Both women exchanged a slight, bewildered glance.
Contrary to their expectations, there was absolutely no one beneath the bookshelf!
The only human remnant was that single shoe.
The blood was fresh, undeniably indicating a recent death.
‘What in the world is happening here…’
“Don’t just stand there! Run towards that unlucky wretch’s position!” Govet-Ghervil’s warning exploded in her mind.
But it was already too late; the moment Konehl-Ghervil took a step, an immense force around her waist rendered her utterly immobile.
Her skirt was constricted as something coiled tightly around her waist.
The pressure was so immense, she felt her ribs might snap.
Enduring a fierce sensation of suffocation, she looked down, discerning a vague outline of something viscous soaking her long dress, accompanied by a pungent, foul stench.
The next instant, the force intensified, and Esli’s charging figure rapidly receded as Konehl-Ghervil was violently dragged out into the corridor.
Her hands instinctively flailed, desperately searching for anything to grasp.
Screech—
Her fingers snagged on the doorframe, her nails digging into the plaster with an agonizing screech, momentarily halting her.
A searing, burning pain shot through her fingers, yet her desperate struggle proved futile, lasting less than half a second.
“Ah!”
Her body was yanked and flung against the opposite wall, her head striking the corner, the excruciating pain momentarily disorienting her.
The speed was breathtaking; she could only feel her body lifting from the ground, soaring towards the ceiling.
‘I need to think of something quickly…’
‘If this continues, I’ll surely die…’
The ringing in her ears obstructed coherent thought, but her survival instinct relentlessly urged her on.
Boom—
A section of the wall collapsed, and from a position slightly behind and below, Esli, clad in ice armor, charged through the dust cloud, forcefully hurling her axe.
The axe flew with a speed nearly matching that of Konehl-Ghervil’s relentless drag.
Given the close proximity, it severed the viscous object connected to her back just a second before she would have slammed into the ceiling.
A gush of warm liquid sprayed over her.
Her body plummeted, only to be caught by Esli, who swiftly retreated in the opposite direction.
“Are you alright? I can’t see it. Do you have any ideas?” Esli’s urgent voice echoed.
“Try to summon the power of your bloodline,” Govet-Ghervil instructed. “Search with your eyes.”
Compared to Esli, Govet-Ghervil’s voice was remarkably calm and clear.
It cut through the ringing in her ears, bringing her back to full awareness.
“You really should have properly taught me how to use my powers,” Konehl-Ghervil grumbled.
“Then perhaps I wouldn’t have been touched by something so utterly disgusting.”
As she complained, Konehl-Ghervil’s hand brushed her waist, the sticky, elongated sensation still lingering on her fingertips; the severed piece had not fallen away.
She fixed her gaze upon it, and where the blood had not splattered, something gradually materialized: a segment, roughly thirty to forty centimeters wide, of a lizard’s tongue, coated in transparent fluid, wrapped three and a half times around her.
Having lost its vitality, it no longer choked the air from her lungs.
“Stop,” she commanded. “It’s not pursuing us.”
Retreating to the hall, Konehl-Ghervil wasted no time in having Esli lower her to the ground.
Pinching her nose in utter disgust, she unwound the tongue from her waist and tossed it aside.
Finding no major injuries, her indignation momentarily eclipsed her fear and pain.
She stifled the urge to strip off her dress, instead heading to the window to wipe herself with a curtain.
She would rather roll ten times in the mud than be sullied by such an abhorrent thing.
As she wasn’t wearing stockings, some of the viscous fluid had seeped through her white dress onto her leg.
Just before she was pulled to the ceiling, she had caught the stench of fermented decay, many times fouler than excrement, indicating that the creature had consumed human flesh.
The thought only amplified her revulsion.
“We can’t get out,” Esli declared.
Esli stood at the doorway, having cleaved it open with her axe, only to reveal an identical scene outside: a perfect, one-to-one replica of the very hall they were in.
“Even if we escape, there’s nowhere to go,” Konehl-Ghervil reasoned. “This is a dream.”
Her hasty cleaning complete, Konehl-Ghervil meticulously observed their surroundings.
“Had I known, I would have written this month’s will in advance,” Esli muttered.
Esli didn’t seem fearful so much as annoyed. She approached with a hint of disappointment, her ice-frosted armor clanking with each step.
“Its tongue is the Green Lizard’s primary offensive weapon,” Konehl-Ghervil explained. “For now, we needn’t worry about it retaliating immediately.”
“You saw its true form?” Esli questioned.
“I caught a glimpse,” Konehl-Ghervil replied.
In truth, it was Govet-Ghervil who had seen it; Konehl-Ghervil had been too dazed and disoriented from the impact, but Govet-Ghervil had not.
As Esli’s axe thudded into the floor, she leaned closer, narrowing her eyes to peer intently into Konehl-Ghervil’s.
“How did you manage such beautiful eyes?” Esli mused. “They’re far more vibrant than usual. If I recall correctly, you also possess dark golden pupils.”
‘Is this truly the time to be concerned with such matters?’
A sense of exasperated nonchalance settled over Konehl-Ghervil as she met Esli’s gaze, attempting to exert control.
To her surprise, it was remarkably easy; Esli’s eyes glazed over for a full two seconds before she blinked, looking at Konehl-Ghervil with astonishment.
“You… did something to me, didn’t you?”
‘She can sense being controlled. Not bad.’
“That is the price of looking directly into my eyes,” Konehl-Ghervil stated.
As Konehl-Ghervil turned, her gaze inadvertently swept across the other corridor, and the sight of what lurked there froze her expression.
At least three colossal lizards, each over twenty meters long, lay motionless, sprawled across the ceiling and walls, their bulging eyes fixed unblinkingly upon them.