Adele Side Story 1: And Yet, The Blight Remains (2)

"What's so special about her anyway?!?!"

Adele grumbled as she made her way toward the spare mansion of the Konrow Duchy.

Calling it "spare" was a joke in itself. It was located in the southern part of the estate, technically just a kilometer from the main mansion. But that was only the distance to the entrance—the actual mansion was another three kilometers beyond that.

So, in other words… walking to the damn mansion was a pain in the ass.

Luckily, Adele was a 7th-tier mage and had already marked the entrance as a waypoint. A simple teleportation spellsaved her the effort of trudging through the unnecessarily long path.

Unfortunately, the real struggle was getting inside.

As soon as she materialized at the entrance, she noted the subtle, unnatural details surrounding her.

First off, the hedges and entrance gate were… too perfect. The hedges were trimmed so neatly that not a single leaf was out of place, and the iron gate gleamed like it had been polished just moments ago.

And that was impossible.

The only people supposed to be on the other side were Josephine and her maid.

Yet, the entire place was pristine—untouched by time, weather, or even human error. It was as if the mansion had frozen in a perpetual state of maintenance… despite the fact that no one should be maintaining it.

Adele narrowed her eyes.

Something wasn't right.

Adele, a 7th-tier mage, one of the most powerful individuals in the empire, was currently snooping—because that's what her life had come to.

She was hunched at the entrance of the spare Konrow mansion, peeking past the pristine iron gates, attempting to figure out if she could just waltz in or if she needed to start blasting things open.

Her goal was simple: get information about Josephine.

Her problem was also simple: she was not invited.

And Konrow properties? Yeah, they had defenses—ones she herself had placed.

She muttered a detection spell under her breath, scanning the area for active enchantments, when—

"What exactly are you doing, Lady Adele?"

Adele almost jumped out of her own skin. Almost.

With all the grace of a trained assassin, a maid—a maid!—stood before her, head slightly bowed, expression unreadable.

More importantly, Adele hadn't noticed her at all.

Adele, the prodigy mage who could sense disturbances in mana from an entire battlefield away, had completely failed to register a single maid standing right in front of her.

It was only when Jane—Josephine's 'dog'—spoke that Adele even realized she was there.

"…Interesting," Adele muttered, resisting the urge to step back. She folded her arms instead. "I was just, ah, appreciating the, um, architecture?"

Jane tsked. TSKED. Right at her.

Adele felt something deeply, fundamentally wrong in her soul. Who gave her the audacity?

"Spare me the excuses. Since you're still a Konrow, I will invite you inside."

There was something deeply unpleasant about the way she said it, like she'd rather drag Adele by the hair than actuallyinvite her.

Adele sighed dramatically. "Well, since you insist~."

Jane didn't respond to her theatrics. Instead, she simply umbrella'd Adele, shielding her from the sun like an actual maid—except it felt nothing like simple etiquette.

Jane was analyzing her.

Adele could feel it—the slow, methodical way her eyes flickered up and down, measuring everything—her posture, her gait, her breathing patterns.

How very, very unpleasant.

And then—

"For all the strength the Konrow bloodline boasts, I expected a little more… refinement from you."

Adele stopped mid-step, turned her head, and stared.

Jane continued, voice perfectly even, eyes forward. "You lack discipline. Strength without control is nothing more than a liability."

Wow.

Adele blinked, genuinely caught off guard. There was no one—literally NO ONE— in the duchy who spoke to her like this. She was the young lady of the Konrow family, a 7th-tier mage, a terror on the battlefield, and yet this maid was treating her like a misbehaving child.

She hadn't been like this before.

Jane used to be neutral. Professional. Respectful.

Something had changed.

Adele quickly calculated.

Jane was strong—too strong. Probably stronger than her father, Mark von Konrow. That alone was a problem. But more importantly—

If Josephine had a supporter like her…

That was a massive problem.

Before Adele could test the waters any further, Jane dropped a tidbit of information that froze her in place.

"My lady went into comatose a few weeks ago. She has always been weak."

The way she said it was so casual, so dismissive, like this was common knowledge Adele should have already been aware of.

Adele barely contained her shock.

Josephine. Comatose.

Adele didn't know what to feel.

On one hand, it was convenient.

On the other—

Wait.

"You must be pleased with this information," Jane continued, cutting right into her thoughts like a knife.

Adele stiffened. Okay. She really hated her.

"But that's not why I invited you here," Jane continued. "I need you to retrieve your 'dog.'"

"…My what?"

Jane didn't explain further. Instead, she stepped aside, gesturing forward.

It was only now that Adele truly took in her surroundings.

The mansion was in immaculate condition.

No, not just immaculate—perfect. Unnaturally perfect, like a snapshot frozen in time.

The pathway leading to the main entrance, the windows, the walls, the very air around them—nothing felt real.

Even a well-maintained estate had flaws—a chipped step, a slightly ajar window, an old tile just slightly discolored.

This place?

It was pristine. Too pristine.

Adele's lips pressed into a thin line.

Something was very, very wrong here.

Jane, completely unaffected by her unease, pushed open the grand entrance doors with a soft click.

"Welcome to the mansion, Lady Adele."

And with that, Adele stepped inside.

Adele immediately hated it.

The mansion was silent—too silent.

There were no signs of servants, no idle chatter, not even the distant rustling of paper or the clinking of dishes.

Adele, who had grown up in the Konrow estate, knew what a spare mansion should feel like. This wasn't it.

It was eerily empty.

Adele turned to Jane. "Where is everyone?"

Jane, who had yet to lose that perfectly neutral expression, simply replied, "There is no need for servants."

Ah. Yes. Sure. That was normal.

Adele narrowed her eyes. "So you're telling me Josephine and you had maintained this entire mansion by yourselves?"

Jane didn't answer.

Instead, she walked forward, leading Adele deeper into the hall.

Adele, very much not trusting this entire situation, subtly activated a detection spell—

—and immediately felt her mana distort.

The spell warped.

Like the mansion itself was interfering.

Her stomach twisted.

This wasn't normal.

Even powerful enchantments had tells—fluctuations in mana, gaps where detection spells could slip through.

This mansion? It had none.

It was like it didn't exist.

Adele exhaled slowly. "Jane."

Jane stopped walking. "Yes?"

"Is this mansion real?"

For the first time, Jane smiled. "No."

Adele immediately stepped back. "What—"

"Relax," Jane said, turning fully towards her. "You're not in danger."

That did not make her feel better.

Adele's gaze sharpened. "Explain. Now."

Jane studied her for a moment before answering.

"This place is an illusion. A construct. My lady's personal domain."

Adele stared.

She wanted to laugh.

She wanted to call her a liar.

She wanted to say, "That's impossible. Josephine does not have that kind of power."

But.

She could feel it.

The way her spells didn't work correctly.

The way the mansion felt too perfect, too seamless.

The way Jane did not seem remotely concerned about revealing this information.

This wasn't a normal illusion.

It was a domain.

And domains?

They were the power of monsters, legends, and gods.

Adele's throat dried.

Josephine—the weak, fragile, sickly Josephine—

Had this?

Adele clenched her fists. "I see."

Jane tilted her head. "That's all?"

Adele smiled. "Oh no, I am screaming internally."

Jane smirked.

Adele wanted to punch her.