Esherburn Mansion (2)
“Eek!”
Eek? Not squeak?
Rosalyn, who had somehow reverted to human form, wore an expression like she was about to burst into tears. Around the time I smashed the second bookshelf.
“S-stop that!”
“Why?”
“W-well… this is my house first of all…”
“You said you didn’t know the location of the secret room.”
“Even so…! We might find it if we keep looking!”
Not worth hearing.
Right now, outside, the Painless Squad was charging into the mansion like moths to a flame. If they breached the entrance, something like a bookshelf wouldn’t matter at all.
We had more pressing concerns.
Boom!
After toppling the third bookshelf, a staircase emerged from behind a cloud of white dust.
“Oh! There! Right there!”
A dark, narrow staircase like the maw of a serpent. A faint light glimmered far below in the darkness.
Found it. This is the place.
“One’s safe. Let’s go in.”
“Hng…”
Rosalyn stared wistfully at the surviving fourth bookshelf, then toddled after me with quick steps.
The space we descended into was unexpectedly ordinary. Damn. I’d expected something blatantly suspicious here.
A bust?
“Father must have loved reading.”
A simple wooden desk and bookshelf. A magically enchanted lantern on one corner of the desk emitted a soft glow. It was unmistakably a small study.
Rosalyn’s crimson eyes clouded over slightly. Feeling her father’s presence in this unfamiliar space, perhaps.
“Hey, Berga…”
“Hoo…”
Before this hopelessly sentimental girl could unpack her bundle of memories…
“Wait. Quiet.”
A faint tremor transmitted through the wall where I placed my hand. An irregular rhythm. Like a cat padding across a drum—very subtle vibrations.
“They’ll breach soon.”
“What?”
“The entrance. We need to hurry.”
This is bad. If this were the final destination, we could’ve taken our time. Like a hidden safe or a sealed vault holding the Esherburn family secrets.
Gimmicks usually revolve around object destruction. If it were something special, the wave would’ve ended here.
Where is it? Where could it be? Not here?
No. There has to be a hint in this secretive space of Aldric’s.
“Rosalyn.”
“Y-yeah… Need me to do something?”
“Check the books on the shelves. I’ll go back up to the study and scout the situation.”
“Okay! Got it!”
“Note anything suspicious. Anything at all.”
The staircase depth I checked on the way up was about two stories. The study was at the end of the third floor. So this secret study was probably carved out from a room at the edge of the first floor?
Not a dead end, then. That’s a relief.
Even if the study entrance gets blocked by the wave, we can punch through the secret room’s wall and escape if needed. Rosalyn would complain again, but no choice.
In the study, I hauled all the furniture to the entrance and piled it up. From the shattered bookshelves to the dark oak table—everything.
Not sure if it’ll help, but if it holds for a bit, that’s enough.
And if there’s truly nothing in the secret space, then the study is the last likely spot.
With the furniture cleared, I scanned the now-empty study. Fitting for a vampire’s lair, no windows anywhere. Faded wallpaper except where the bookshelves had been. Indentations on the carpet from Aldric’s chair-dragging habit. Dust-dulled ornaments.
All of it hinted at the years that had passed through Esherburn Mansion.
Once, everything must have gleamed brightly. At least while Rosalyn’s father was alive.
Rosalyn’s father. Supposedly a famous man. Could this be a clue?
Ruler of Noble Blood. Aldric Esherburn.
A elegant inscription dedicated to the previous Esherburn family head, written in fine script beneath a massive portrait. I could read it without approaching.
Wait. Why can I read it?
And the line below: Astellan’s hero, a woman’s lover, and a child’s father.
Astellan’s hero? So this place is called Astellan.
Rosalyn’s “famous” comment must’ve been positive. I might’ve prejudged the vampire living in this gloomy mansion.
The daughter of a world-saving hero, a shut-in coward. And now the wave’s protagonist. Probably not what Hero Aldric wanted.
My inhale felt stuffy. No. No time for sentiment. No time for dwelling.
“Found it! Berga!”
Back in the secret space. Rosalyn approached with a bright expression.
“Not a book! It was Dad’s diary… Hehe. The first volume I picked had something that caught my eye…”
A diary?
Rosalyn handed over a book with a navy hardcover. The open page was filled with archaic script that, for some reason, I could read effortlessly.
Astellan has overcome the Twilight of the World and greeted a new dawn. I don’t know how many times I’ve written this preface. But it’s the perfect start for today’s entry.
Because my world, Rosalyn, has turned five.
Her babbling “aba aba” was so adorable…
It reads smoothly too. But what’s suspicious about this?
“No no! The bottom part!”
…It was while holding Rosalyn and spending time in the garden. A week earlier, I’d heard the groundskeeper had changed. The old groundskeeper brought his replacement to greet us, saying he was grateful for all those years. A young man with a gentle, kind face. His name was Godwin…
“Groundskeeper…? Do you know this Godwin guy?”
“No! Never heard of him from Dad, but I’ve seen him!”
“Where?”
“Wave info! It listed ‘Groundskeeper Godwin x1’ and such!”
Her words flushed my swirling thoughts down the drain like toilet water.
I’d go mad, purely and simply.
“Y-you…! You idiot…! I can’t believe it!”
“Hng… Why yell… Sorry…”
Rosalyn deflated instantly. Even deflated, she’s pathetic. All this wasted effort.
“Do you have a brain or not! Tell me important stuff like that sooner!”
Now we have a lead. The suspicious groundskeeper Aldric mentioned. The wave’s listed as ghouls. This dogshit wave is a total fake-out.
The real deal is an elite monster. Necromancer Godwin.
The wave won’t end until we find and kill Godwin. No matter how many ghouls we slay, one gesture from him will resurrect them.
All our struggles in Esherburn Mansion reverted to square one, but we have results. We know the gimmick’s identity.
And countering elite monsters is my specialty.
“Didn’t hear the noise earlier?”
“Huh? What noise…?”
“Entrance breached. Study won’t hold long.”
“What? Then what do we do? This is a dead end! Let’s head back to the third-floor study!”
“No need.”
“Squeak?”
Rosalyn had puffed into bat form and perched on my shoulder.
Rosalyn. You brought this on yourself.
Don’t blame me.
Bang!
I smashed the wall opposite the bookshelf.
“Squeak? What’re you doing squeak!”
“Shortcut.”
“Wall after bookshelf squeak!”
“If you hadn’t been such a moron from the start, we wouldn’t be struggling this hard in Wave 1! We just needed to kill Godwin or whoever before the ghoul horde arrived!”
“Eung… Sorry… Squeak, I’m the idiot squeak…”
Hoo. For some reason, I keep getting emotional. My cold-blooded gears should be turning smoothly.
Does bottom-tier behavior have a magical effect past the breaking point?
“Berga! Outside squeak!”
As the dust settled, the mansion’s rear garden came into view. A peaceful scene compared to the ghoul horde flooding from the entrance to the third floor.
Yeah. Let’s nab Godwin quick.
Just Godwin. Then it’s quitting time.
With a short run-up, I leaped lightly into the air.
“Squeak!”
Startled?
“Rosalyn.”
“Squeak?”
“Get down.”
“Sorry squeak… Berga, I’m too useless… Don’t abandon me squeak…”
“No…! Hoo… Hanging on my shoulder, you won’t last. It’ll be a point-breakthrough. Fly and follow.”
“Squeak?”
Rosalyn floated down from my shoulder with a puzzled look.
She didn’t get it. Good that she listens.
Anyway. On the roof’s rear side. I peered over at the garden.
Horrific. A legion of corpses pouring into the mansion.
Ghouls shuffling forward, rubbing against each other. Like dumping murky sludge into the mansion.
Far back at the end of the massive procession. Normally, a blue portal would flicker there.
Instead of that despair-spewing gate, a dissonant human stood.
‘Human,’ that is.
A hooded man scattering purple aura around him. There you are. You’re Godwin.
Found you.
I poured energy into my thighs toward the target.
In Nakan Jungle. In Ednfelt Wall. I always leaped toward the sky.
Drawing parabolic arcs against gravity.
Not today.
I crouched low, using the sloped roof as a starting block. An indescribable intangible energy surged from my toes to my thighs.
The gray slate tiles cracked under the repulsion.
From rooftop to hooded man—a perfect straight line connecting points.
Shortest is best, and fastest.
Edges of my vision blurred. Air-tearing sounds rang in my ears.
By the time even that rupture faded into the distance.
The reverse-gripped dagger sliced the necromancer’s throat like lightning.
Done.
I definitely felt the cut. The metal piercing flesh, the bursting hot blood.
All vivid.
“Hoo…”
Now, just instruct Rosalyn lightly and head to the Waiting Room…
Why?
The ghoul horde before me didn’t scatter into dirt.
I turned toward the sudden sound looking at me.
Above all. No wave clear alert.
Wave Saturation!
The wave is in a saturated state. Existing monsters will transform into the next form.
As if mocking me. As if it had always been there.
The red alert window blinked in the corner of my vision.
By a hair’s breadth. A single entity.
Didn’t expect summons to trigger saturation too.
Ha. This wave doesn’t want to leave this world in peace.
Or maybe it’s me.
I gripped the dagger again.