Chapter 93: Snakes Do Not Shed Tears
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 93: Snakes Do Not Shed Tears
The Dandolo estate, the family council chamber.
The seat at the head of the table belonged to the master of the house. In other words, it belonged to Rico Dandolo.
However, Tilda was currently occupying that seat as if it were her birthright, lounging with an air of natural entitlement.
“Where is Henri?”
“He mentioned urgent matters regarding a trade deal. He won’t return until tomorrow.”
“I know that. He was making such a fuss about it. My point is, there’s no chance he’ll suddenly barge in, right?”
“That is correct, My Lady.”
“Then this mansion is mine for the night?”
Tilda smiled.
“Soon, the entire Dandolo Merchant House will be yours, Lady Tilda.”
“You will stand proudly at the helm of this family—not as a mere daughter-in-law, but as its true master.”
The sycophants seized the moment to flatter her. They were all collaborators who had been promised a share of the spoils once the coup was complete.
“I suppose so. Now, shouldn’t we focus on the work at hand?”
Tilda began reviewing the next steps to deepen the rift she had engineered between Stephan and Murchit.
“Stephan is currently locked in a stalemate with Herman. He’s trying to oust him over management rights, but Herman is proving stubborn.”
“And Murchit?”
“‘Sharpening his blade’ would be the best way to describe it. He’s preparing for a full-blown confrontation with Stephan.”
“Still, a blade is often closer than gold. Wouldn’t it be better to intensify the pressure on Murchit?”
Tilda toyed with her lips before answering.
“No, just keep pushing Stephan. The most important thing is to knock him out of the game entirely.”
“Understood.”
“The groundwork on the other side is solid, isn’t it? Once we leak evidence to the Empire that the mercenary company is actually a front for bandits, they’ll collapse in an instant.”
“Indeed, My Lady.”
“Then we shall proceed as planned.”
The henchmen moved efficiently, handling their assigned tasks. Tilda wore a satisfied smile. Everything was going perfectly.
It felt like watching puppets dance on a miniature stage. She was intoxicated by the ecstasy of feeling the world finally within her grasp.
I just need to find that will, and everything will fall into place…
The contents of the will stated that upon Rico Dandolo’s death, everything would be bequeathed to Henri. It specified that until Henri’s child turned nineteen and could stand on their own, no one else could be named heir, and all assets would be managed by the vice-chairman.
For Tilda, who coveted the Dandolo Merchant House for herself, it was a fatal document. That was why she was going through all this trouble.
Everything would proceed like falling dominoes. It started small, but by the end, it would create a ripple so large that no one would dare stop it. She would become the master of it all.
Just then, a servant rushed into the room and whispered into Tilda’s ear.
“My Lady, there is good news. We have information that the will has been secured.”
“Is that true?”
Could things really be going this smoothly? Tilda’s eyes sparkled, and the servant nodded.
“The couriers delivering the will are waiting at the front gate right now.”
“Understood. I’ll go at once.”
It was the perfect finishing touch. Tilda walked toward the main entrance with a light step, flanked by her attendants.
“What is the meaning of this?”
However, there was no one at the main gate. She even walked out to check the road, but there wasn't a carriage in sight.
They said they were here to deliver the will, so where the hell are they?
Just as Tilda’s irritation was about to boil over—
A sudden, violent gust of wind slammed the windows open, extinguishing every candle on the chandeliers.
“Oh my!”
“Where did this wind come from?”
“What are you doing? Call a mage! Relight the chandeliers at once!”
The servants panicked while the butlers calmly issued orders. The mages began chanting to relight the candles with magic.
It was then.
The darkness was suddenly pierced by light. Or rather, only a specific part of the hall was illuminated.
It was like a spotlight on a stage. The light shone upon the upper landing of the central staircase, drawing everyone’s gaze.
A woman stood there. She had pink hair and wore a mask.
The onlookers began to murmur.
“What is that ridiculous outfit?”
“Goodness, how scandalous…”
She was dressed in a bunny girl outfit—the kind one might see in the pleasure districts of Halim—which clung to every curve of her body. Though she wore a swallow-tailed coat that prevented direct skin exposure, the sheer fact that her silhouette was so clearly defined was unacceptable in the conservative Empire.
Wearing a white masquerade mask, she opened her mouth.
“While the masses remain silent!” the woman shouted with the vigor of a circus showman. “Injustice arrives to throw the world into chaos!”
There was a hint of awkwardness in her voice, but she hid it well by raising her volume.
“I descend here from the shadows to uphold justice!”
The people, captivated by her bizarre appearance, threw out their own remarks.
“Who are you?! Do you know where you are trespassing?”
When a servant asked, the mysterious pink-haired woman laughed and shouted.
“I am Pepe of Barney Swallows! I have come here for the justice that everyone ignores, to stop the atrocities occurring in this mansion!”
“What?! How dare you spout such nonsense in this place!”
“Where else would I be? The whole world knows this is the place where all wealth and evil converge to brew foul schemes!”
The mysterious masked woman gestured grandiosely, tapping the floor with a staff. The servants, incensed, shouted back.
“Master Dandolo has fed so many people! How dare you say such things!”
“Rico Dandolo! I didn't realize there were so many loyal to his children! But why is your loyalty only lip service?”
“What kind of bullshit is that?! Do we look like petty people who aren't loyal to the Master?!”
“How truly lamentable! You are blind men with eyes, and deaf mutes with ears! You have let a witch into your home, yet how can you pretend not to see her?”
“A witch? Who exactly is a witch?”
At the word 'witch,' everyone looked around in confusion. Tilda Pascal also looked around uneasily. She hoped this damn phantom thief was barking up the wrong tree.
“Tilda Pascal!”
The woman called her name with pinpoint accuracy.
Immediately, another spotlight illuminated the spot where Tilda stood. All eyes converged on her.
“You wretched lapdog of a witch. Why are you acting like a frightened cur?”
Caught in the spotlight, Tilda panicked.
“You wicked snake who devoured your father-in-law, devoured your husband, and now seeks to devour your own kin. Your villainy ends here. I shall show everyone exactly what reins you are using to hold this mansion!”
Just as the masked woman reached into her jacket to pull something out, Tilda’s pupils constricted.
“There she is! An intruder!”
At that moment, a swarm of soldiers burst through the doors, crossbows in hand.
“Fire!”
Thwip!
Crossbow bolts streaked through the air toward the pink-haired thief.
Poof!
Just before the bolts could strike her, a cloud of thick white smoke erupted from the woman’s body, completely obscuring the hall.
“Kyaaa!”
“Cough, cough!”
“It’s an intruder! Don’t let her escape!”
The servants fled for safety while the soldiers moved frantically. Amidst the chaos, Tilda stared up at the spot where the pink-haired thief had been standing.
Where is she?
She tried to track the woman’s movements through the white smoke.
Where did she go?
She had to find her. She had to find that woman before anyone else did.
“My Lady!”
Someone grabbed Tilda’s arm.
“Please evacuate this way!”
Thinking Tilda was in shock, a servant led her away. She allowed herself to be pulled along, acting the part of a panicked victim.
“I will take you to the shelter now. Over there—”
“No!” Tilda cut him off. “There’s no need to go all the way to the shelter. I’ll hide in my room.”
“Understood. Then this way…!”
The servant escorted Tilda to her room.
“Do not come out! Please wait until the situation has settled.”
“I will.”
The door closed.
Tilda paced the room with an anxious expression. She tapped the door with her index finger. In that instant, a crimson barrier spread out from her finger, completely sealing the door. Now, no one could cross that threshold.
“What was with that crazy bitch?”
Tilda’s face contorted into a hideous scowl. The woman had drawn attention with that scandalous outfit and called herself Pepe.
“Barney Swallows? What is that? Who the hell is trying to screw with me?”
A phantom thief from an organization she had never heard of. She tried to think of who could be behind it. Stephan? Murchit? Herman? Or was it some trap Rico Dandolo had set long ago before she poisoned him?
But that wasn't the problem.
How does she know I contracted with a witch?
The advantage of a Garden Contract was that it was undetectable unless one used magic right in front of someone. Tilda had always been cautious. She had used her magic with the utmost care to make this mansion hers. There was no way anyone could know.
Even if she did find out…
There was one thing she couldn't understand. How could she have realized what the medium was?
The thief who called herself Pepe was about to reveal something. Tilda had caught a glimpse of its silhouette just before the woman was interrupted. It was something thin, small, and portable enough to hide in a pocket.
And the medium Tilda had set was exactly that shape.
Could it be…?
No, that’s impossible.
Tilda wasn't certain. She wanted to dismiss it as a mere bluff, but she couldn't be sure. She had to check.
Tilda moved across her spacious room to a desk drawer. It was where a painting of herself was kept. She opened the drawer. Inside was a framed painting, lying face down. She reached out to flip the frame over.
“I figured it would be somewhere in the room. So, it was there?”
A voice pierced the silence.
Tilda spun around in shock. A man was standing in the spot that should have been empty. He had brown hair tied in a ponytail. Like that scandalous thief, he was wearing a mask as he watched her.
“W-who are you? How did you get in here…?”
“How do you think? While that pink thief was drawing everyone’s attention? Or maybe since I grabbed your wrist and led you here?”
Only then did the outline of this absurd situation become clear to Tilda. The woman talking like a showman was nothing more than a decoy. The real goal was to make her come here and check the medium herself.
The brown-haired man tilted his head and asked, “I guess that thing in your hand really is the medium for the Garden Contract?”
Tilda instinctively clutched the frame to her chest and screamed.
“Die!!”
In that instant, a magic circle formed, and a snake’s head lunged out from within. With white scales and golden eyes, it was the classic form recorded in ancient texts.
“Wow, you really did contract with Yor Philias. The Black Bandana’s intelligence is the real deal.”
The snake of Yor Philias. It possessed a deadly venom that could dissolve a target without leaving a trace. The snake flicked its tongue, coiling around Tilda to threaten the intruder.
“Cute.”
Jed was of the Red Eye Tribe. The Red Eye Tribe possessed the ability to disrupt and nullify the mana of magic circles. Yet, Jed did not reveal his eyes. The reason was simple: there was no need to use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken.
He leaned forward and lunged like a released spring.
“Kill him! Snakes! Kill him now!”
Dozens of snakes moved frantically, chasing the man’s form. But they couldn't keep up with his speed. This was a man who had easily dodged the attacks of two Dire Wolves.
Swish—.
Thinly sliced trails of aura moved, leaving faint afterimages. Every time a line of aura was drawn, the heads and bodies of Yor’s snakes were severed, tumbling to the floor. It didn't take long for dozens of snakes to become dozens of pieces of meat.
“Ugh!!”
Tilda’s expression shifted. She intended to transform her own face into a snake’s to spray venom. But by the time she made the decision, the brown-haired man was already right in front of her.
“Naughty!”
“Kyaaa!”
He struck the back of her hand hard with the hilt of his dagger. Tilda’s grip on the medium instantly failed. The brown-haired man nimbly snatched it and stepped back.
“Let’s see. The medium our heartless aspiring witch chose is…”
The brown-haired man flipped the frame over and let out a short whistle of surprise.
“Man, I didn't see this coming…”
“G-give it back!! Right now!”
Tilda screamed at the top of her lungs. But it didn't work on him. The brown-haired man pulled the painting out of the frame and gripped it with both hands.
“Nothing personal. It’s just a job.”
Riiip—!
He tore the object in half with a forceful tug. The paper tore as easily as a cheap flyer from a marketplace.
“Ah…!”
Immediately, a crimson energy began to surge from the torn paper. The power grew stronger, condensing until it caused a shockwave in the air.
Boom!
“Whoa!?”
Jed was pushed back by the force. Tilda, who had been standing further away, lunged like a beast to pick up the pieces of paper.
“No…!”
Tilda tried to force the pieces back together.
“Ahhh…! No…!! This can’t be happening!”
Spilled water cannot be gathered, and a broken medium cannot be restored. In that moment, a sinister aura began to envelop the surroundings. She felt a terrible premonition.
“Time for my exit. See ya!”
The brown-haired man quickly vanished to avoid getting caught up in whatever was coming. Tilda, however, lacked the agility to escape. She remained on her knees, trembling violently.
It was coming. She was coming.
Ssssss—.
The sound of a snake’s tongue flicking echoed in her ear. Something long and damp licked her earlobe with sickening sweetness.
—Ufufu…
Then came a sinister laugh. Tilda froze, unable to even turn her head. Her face turned deathly pale.
—Poor Tilda. Pitiful Tilda. The contract is broken.
“N-no,” Tilda answered, her voice shaking. “I can fix this, Lady Yor! Please…!”
—No, you failed. Did I not tell you to protect the medium of our contract by any means necessary? But you failed to protect it.
The voice laughed as if amused. Tilda pleaded with her again.
“I will kill that man! I will prove my worth!”
—There is no need for that, child. Your ruin was predicted the moment you harbored greed that didn't suit your station.
A long stretch of skin brushed against her cheek. What followed was a mocking sneer. Tilda begged, tears streaming down her face.
“Please, do not abandon me. I will be your loyal dog. Please, just one more chance…”
She begged and begged. The answer she received was this:
—Snakes do not shed tears, you incompetent thing.
As the aura vanished, she felt a change. The something that had been shrouding the mansion disappeared in a flash.
The spell that had sustained Tilda Pascal was broken.