Theorad's Dream (4)
Their eyes widened round, cold sweat trickling down. Serredi felt as if thousands of ants were crawling over her skin. Was this how a beast felt right before a noose tightened around its neck? An uncontrollable terror made her hands and feet tremble unconsciously.
'She saw through me...?'
It made no sense. She had never once let her demonic energy leak out, and she'd hidden her wings and tail perfectly. There was no way he could have realized she was a demon.
'Then how in the world...?'
The elf had murmured so sweetly, as if she knew everything. Through the mirror, those glowing red eyes seemed to say not only that they knew her true identity, but even her intentions for coming to the mansion.
At this rate, the tension would choke her to death. Gritting her teeth, Serredi resolved to use one of the dream demon's signature spells, [Brainwashing]. But not on the elf—on herself. Judging that she couldn't brainwash the elf, she decided to impose it on her own mind, commanding herself to stay calm.
"[Brainwashing]"
⟨ Self-Imposed Calm ⟩
Thump—her overloaded heart pulsed heavily, then gradually settled. Inhaling and exhaling slowly to complete the self-brainwashing, Serredi mustered her courage and faced the elf in the mirror. Those blood-red eyes demanded she spit out the truth, but Serredi didn't flinch. The brainwashing to maintain composure brought peace to her mind.
"...I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Is that so."
A dry response came back. The elf lifted her head and released her hand from Serredi's shoulder.
"I'll leave the towel and fresh clothes here and go. Once you're done getting ready, come to the dining hall. I'll have a meal prepared for you."
"Got it..."
Hearing Serredi's reply, the elf set down the towel and clothes and left the changing room. Serredi held her rigid posture until the door closed. The moment it clicked shut, she exhaled as if vomiting.
Even with the power of brainwashing, she couldn't shake off the terrifying aura the elf had exuded.
'What the hell is she?'
It wasn't mana weighing down the air around them. The elf hadn't used even a speck of it. She'd frozen Serredi solid with nothing but her gaze and presence. That overwhelming dignity, impossible for a mere slave, crushed Serredi's spirit with solemn authority.
If she hadn't brainwashed herself, she would have spilled everything in terror.
'Dangerous...'
She didn't know the elf's exact nature, but she was no pushover.
'Definitely someone who could match me blow for blow if I unleashed my demonic energy.'
If she shed her human disguise and released her full power, could she beat that elf? Probably by a slim margin, win or lose. So the best plan was to carry out the mission without provoking the elf as much as possible. She only had to stay in this mansion for one day anyway.
'Avoid unnecessary conflicts.'
Steel resolve in her heart, Serredi finished drying her hair and examined the clothes the elf had brought. A thick gray undergarment and a simple dress. The problem was the undergarment's full-body design—it would cover her completely, blocking any chance of exposure.
'Is this her way of telling me not to tempt Theorad?'
The intent was so obvious it was ridiculous. It annoyed her that they were trying to control her, but it wasn't hard to comply. Her reason for visiting the mansion today was to extract information from Theorad's subconscious, not to seduce him.
"..."
Still, this wasn't clothing fit for a succubus. Already feeling suffocated, but with no choice, Serredi teared up a little as she began putting on the undergarment.
*
After changing, she arrived at the dining hall to a savory aroma wafting through the air. Savory, that was, from a human perspective. Serredi wrinkled her nose at the garlic scent filling the entire room.
"Ah, there you are."
Unaware of Serredi's feelings, Theorad sat at the table and greeted her brightly.
"Dinner's just finished. Come sit and eat."
"Ah... thank you..."
Refusing the invitation would raise suspicion. Forcing an awkward smile, Serredi approached the table—and froze in dismay. Every dish was loaded with garlic: garlic-pureed soup, garlic bread, roasted garlic cloves, even garlic powder sprinkled over the steak. The garnish vegetables were packed with it too.
The elf's doing, no doubt.
'That bitch...!'
Suppressing a gag, Serredi pulled out a chair and sat. Across from her, Theorad sliced his steak with perfect etiquette and smiled kindly at her.
"My slave told me you love garlic. So I asked the head chef to prepare garlic-themed dishes. I hope you enjoy them."
"Ah, haha... thank you."
She smiled back and picked up her knife, but had zero appetite. Not eating would make Theorad suspicious. He was the one who'd brought down the diocese bishop, after all— he might spot her true nature from the slightest behavior.
'Did she tell him about me...?'
As she cut into her steak, Serredi glanced at Theorad. Having rolled in bed with countless men as a dream demon, reading sincerity in a man's expression was easier than breathing for her. She scrutinized his face closely, but found no hint of suspicion toward her.
Seems the elf hadn't told her master. Did the elf lack full certainty that she was a dream demon? Whatever the case, it was a relief. If the elf had informed Theorad, things would have gotten messy.
'...But where is the elf?'
Bringing a piece of steak to her mouth, Serredi rolled her eyes—and jolted in shock.
The elf—the one who'd skillfully intimidated her earlier—was on her knees on the floor, picking dog food from a dog bowl and eating it.
"Hiiing..."
Tears even welled in her eyes. What the hell was this? Just then, Theorad clicked his tongue and tossed a chunk of meat from his plate onto her dog bowl.
Splat! The meat landed, sending piles of kibble scattering everywhere.
"I'll give you meat as a treat, so stop whining. Got it?"
"M-Master...!"
Looking up at Theorad with a moved expression, the elf prostrated herself and took the steak in her mouth. Sauce smeared across her lips, but she chewed it with pure bliss, oblivious.
'Why is she...?'
No utensils nearby made sense, but why not use her hands?
'She's literally acting like a dog.'
No matter that she was a slave, this was inhuman. Should she intervene? But Theorad smirked as if it were the most natural thing.
"No different from a mutt."
He was even mocking her as she ate like a dog. Strangest of all, the elf didn't protest—just sniffled and kept eating.
'What...?'
This was worlds apart from the elf who'd threatened her.
'Did I misjudge her?'
Maybe the elf wasn't that powerful after all. No skilled powerhouse would end up a human's slave, enduring this treatment. Probably just a nobody.
Serredi snickered and popped a garlic steak into her mouth, chewing.
'Ugh.'
The pungent garlic flavor turned her stomach, but she endured. Garlic was just unappetizing—not impossible for her.
As she finished eating, Habid approached from the side, bowing his head.
"Did the meal please you?"
She wanted to puke, but kept a straight face.
"Yes. It was quite delicious."
"I'm glad. That said, I have some regrettable news."
"Yes? About what?"
"The tribute from the imperial palace today filled our family warehouse, so we had to store it in the mansion's empty rooms. There are no guest rooms left. You'll have to spend tonight in the elf slave's room."
It was awkward, but from the family's view, she was an uninvited guest. They were treating her generously enough already. A minor inconvenience she could bear—especially since the groveling elf was no threat now.
Serredi nodded with a bright smile.
"That's fine by me."
"Thank you for your generosity. We'll clear a guest room by tomorrow if possible."
"Sure. Thanks."
Smiling back, Serredi glanced at the elf. Sniffling with her face buried in the dog bowl, she looked utterly unremarkable.
*
After a brief chat with Theorad post-meal, Serredi entered the elf's room as Habid instructed. For a slave's quarters, it was spacious: two beds, a dresser, a desk. The slanted window suggested an attic conversion, a minor gripe, but since it was just for one night, no big deal.
"Hmm. So this is where the slave sleeps. Pretty shabby."
Emphasizing "slave," Serredi sat on one bed. The elf entered late, carrying a candlestick and dog bowl, and closed the door.
"Sleeping here's no issue."
"I suppose. But what's with the dog bowl?"
"A gift from Master."
A dog bowl as a gift? It was so absurd she let out a hollow laugh.
'What kind of treatment does she get here?'
Serredi tsked openly, but the elf ignored her, setting the candlestick on the desk. A faint flame flickered from the fixed candle, bathing the room in crimson light.
"By the way."
Serredi said.
"Doesn't living like that tire you out? If I were in your shoes, I'd kill myself."
"I like it, so it's fine."
No emotional fluctuation. The elf carefully placed the dog bowl in a drawer and shut it.
Feeling insulted, Serredi pressed harder, eager to repay the humiliation from the changing room.
"Who enjoys kneeling and eating from a dog bowl? Let's be real—you're living like trash. Even Viscount Theorad treats you like a toy—"
"Strange."
Interrupting, the elf looked up at the night sky. In the mingled candlelight and moonlight, her figure appeared nobly ethereal—far from the dining hall's groveling.
"I thought I'd warned you."
Sighing softly, she turned to Serredi.
"For a Maegye mongrel."
A sudden gust whipped through the enclosed space, snuffing the candle. Darkness swallowed everything. Only moonlight through the window illuminated the elf's upper body.
About to retort, Serredi felt a chilling prick on her cheek and froze. Sharp, rigid—it was unmistakably a sword tip. Heavy, yet invisible.
She sensed formless weapons encircling her, pinning her in place. No incantation, no wand—just visualization conjured magic into blade-like bars, caging her.
"You must want to die."
Emotionless eyes gleamed with arrogant pride. Only then did Serredi realize the dining hall subservience was an act. And that the elf before her was a colossal being she could never defeat.
'B-Beg for mercy...'
But under the elf's gaze—like a bug about to be crushed—Serredi couldn't utter a word.