Working at a Haunted Mansion Chapter 30

In the midst of the gruesome ritual, where the cult leader spilled his own blood, Julius naively believed that he would finally be free.

What Julius Sheiwartz had overlooked was the fact that a complete human being was, in itself, a vessel containing hair, nails, and saliva.

Bleeding from both wrists, the cult leader chanted incomprehensible foreign incantations.

The simple melody, made up of only a few notes, gradually sped up until the syllables became indistinguishable.

At some point, Julius lost his balance and collapsed.

The sensation of his soul detaching from his body was beyond words, and even now, Julius couldn’t properly describe how exactly he left his body.

Just as his soul was about to return to the infinite source, it suddenly felt shackled to the earth, and he found himself staring at his own body lying on the ground.

The incantation continued for a while longer. Then, after a soft thud, the world fell silent, as if all sound had vanished.

Suddenly, the soulless shell twitched. Julius, his eyes wide open, watched in horror as his body began to move on its own.

The body clenched and unclenched its hands, twisted its head side to side, moving each part of itself. Then, with a satisfied smile, it moved its lips.

“■■■■■!”

As Solomonian words poured out, Julius turned his gaze to the cult leader’s body, lying face down on the floor. And only then did he realize what was happening.

[You wicked heretic. Give me back my body. Give it back…!]

Julius shouted, reaching toward his own body. But his hand passed through it, doing nothing. No matter how many times he tried, the result was the same.

[You lied. Did you think you’d get away with this?]

Julius screamed with all his might. The underground prison echoed, and bits of stone fell from the ceiling.

The cult leader, now in the emperor’s body, glanced up at the ceiling with a puzzled expression.

“■■?”

He raised the pitch at the end as if questioning, and looked around. All the while, Julius continued his desperate, useless struggle.

The cult leader narrowed his eyes and asked slowly,

“Are you there? In this place… still, hello?”

[Put me back. That wasn’t the deal!]

“A noble one?”

The cult leader kept looking around. Even though Julius was right in front of him.

“■■■■■.”

Muttering irritably, he walked over to the collapsed old body and checked if it was still breathing.

The cult leader’s original body was barely clinging to life. Blood still streamed from his torn-up wrists. He was breathing now, but it was clear he’d die soon from blood loss.

The cult leader didn’t seem too concerned about the death of his original body.

With a strange expression, he looked down at the body for a moment, then went to the entrance and lay down on his side. Then, as if settling in for a nap, he closed his eyes with a peaceful face.

Until the royal guards came in, suspicious of the emperor’s long absence.

 

 

 

****

 

 

 

 

Lily carefully made her way to the kitchen to cool her hands. She instinctively felt that the series of little accidents wasn’t caused by her carelessness.

‘Then what is it? At this rate, I’ll have to watch out for falling leaves too!’

On the way back, she walked down the center of the hallway, keeping a close eye on her surroundings. It was in case a door opened unexpectedly from somewhere.

She also paid close attention to each step to avoid tripping embarrassingly on an empty hallway.

Maybe thanks to her intense focus, she made it back to the room without anything happening.

“Are you alright?”

Wolfram, who had been talking with Julia, turned his gaze to Lily and asked.

“Yes, just barely. I almost rolled down the stairs, but since I didn’t actually fall, I guess I’m lucky.”

“I believe something that clung to the Emperor—an evil spirit, misfortune, or a curse—has now passed on to you.”

Normally, she would have scoffed at such heretical nonsense.

But Lily instantly recalled something that matched what Wolfram described. The Emperor’s ring.

“The things that were happening to the Emperor until just yesterday are now happening to you. Though in your case, it seems a bit more frequent. You’d better be careful. He even saw blood.”

He continued, moving the teacup and teapot far away from Lily.

“I found it strange that the Emperor seemed perfectly fine today. The vassals said the misfortune had finally left him… turns out it was passed on to you.”

“But I don’t get it. Why me, of all people?”

Lily fumbled for the pocket with the ring in it.

“To him, anyone belonging to the Duke’s household would be someone to resent.”

“I mean, I hate to say it myself, but I’m just a lowly maid.”

[Don’t talk like that.]

Aiden cut in beside her. But since only she could hear him, she could ignore it like it wasn’t said at all.

Lily went on as if nothing had happened.

“If the Emperor really wanted to bring misfortune to someone in the Duke’s estate, there were better choices.”

She stared blankly at Wolfram.

“For example, wouldn’t you, Sir Aide, be more fitting than me? It’s not like the Duke’s house would suffer a huge loss if a maid got hurt. If the Emperor—no, the cult leader—wanted even a little revenge, then someone like me…”

[Lily.]

Aiden stopped her again. He sounded genuinely upset, so Lily noticed and fell silent.

Wolfram waited a moment for her to finish, then said curtly,

“Then he must have really not liked you.”

If Wolfram was right, it felt incredibly unfair. Lily pouted inwardly.

‘I mean, how often had he even seen me? That night was the first time we met! And I even braved the dark to kindly guide him! And he didn’t thank me—he hated me?’

Lily recalled the deep night when she had received the ring.

She hadn’t even known what had landed in her hand but still thanked the Emperor, and he had said to her:

“To the Duke, I shall send this. The gratitude…”

It was mockery!

She dug a little further into her memory. Come to think of it, the Emperor had suddenly asked her if she liked the Duke. And she had replied that the Duke was “a kind master…”

Now she understood why the cult leader would have been so offended. A maid grateful to the enemy of his life—the sworn enemy of the cult—must have made him want to mess with her badly.

‘Ugh. Just my luck. I should’ve just cursed His Excellency non-stop, since I already knew he was a fake Emperor.’

But what was there to even criticize about Aiden Kashimir?

His looks, as if personally blessed by the Lord Himself? His gentle nature like a spring breeze? The fact that he was so affectionate and loyal, always trailing behind like a puppy, never giving her a moment to slack off?

Even when she tried to think of something, it was hard.

Wolfram brought the conversation back on track.

“You said he gave you a ring? And that His Majesty’s soul is tied to it?”

“Yes. It’s a ring engraved with the royal crest, and His Excellency said it was a protective charm for Emperor Julius.”

She took the ring out of her pocket.

“Maybe the Lord is protecting his soul through it… huh!”

The strange sound that escaped her mouth was definitely not intentional.

“What’s wrong?”

“T-the color…”

She quickly set the ring down on the table as if throwing it away. Its condition had worsened noticeably.

“The color? It looks like a normal ring to me.”

“Well, it looks a bit different to me. There’s this shimmer like a heatwave, and the color was never that great to begin with. But now it’s way worse.”

What had once shimmered faintly in dark red was now completely black and rotting.

‘It just looks evil!’

She had thought it might be getting darker, but figured it was her imagination. However, in the short time she had been cooling her hand, it had rapidly deteriorated.

Even now, the ring’s aura was growing murkier by the second, taking on a filthy, sewage-like hue.

[That’s not good.]

Aiden remarked shortly.

“Can you see it too, Your Excellency?”

[Yeah. It’s so ominous I don’t even want to go near it.]

Honestly, Aiden was right. The aura looked like it could drag its owner straight into a pit of despair.

She could now clearly tell where all her little accidents had been coming from. Frankly, she was grateful it had only been slips and bumps.

‘Where’s the Emperor now?’

Considering how the ring’s glow seemed to reflect the state of the Emperor’s spirit, she was seriously worried.

Why had it decayed this much? He was already not in his right mind—could things get even worse than that?

She felt like her list of problems had just doubled.