This mission sounded simple on paper—investigating a spirit hiding behind the authority of Count Viper.
But I knew all too well, anything involving nobles and high-level spirits is never truly simple.
Liam and I were deployed again as a team, slipping into the hidden world behind the massive iron gates of Count Viper's residence under false identities. A world layered with polite smiles, rigid rules, and an unseen stench—the smell of something slowly rotting beneath all that luxury.
Although that "other identity" felt more like it belonged to Liam.
The man was nearly unrecognizable.
His striking blond hair had turned dark and dull, as if it had never touched sunlight. His face was marked with small details too precise to be called coincidence—a dot beneath his lips, one beside his nose, above his right eyebrow, even faint specks under his eyes like remnants of stardust.
At first, I thought it was just cheap makeup—until he casually mentioned he had around thirty-four moles across his body, and only he knew their exact locations.
I still don't understand why he told me that.
Good grief…
What does that have to do with the mission?
While Liam took on the role of Count Viper's personal guard—complete with permission to carry weapons and access to inner areas—I was assigned as a servant. A lowly one. The kind who cleans floors, carries trays, bows their head, stays silent, and pretends not to have a mind of their own.
Honestly, it was irritating.
The training field stretched out before me, its ground neatly compacted, filled with sword marks that were never truly cleaned. The smell of sweat and iron blended into one. That was where Liam stood, his body moving lightly, his sword slicing through the air with a sharp, consistent sound. Every movement was clean, controlled—almost too perfect for an "ordinary guard."
I watched him from the side, my fingers still aching from endless work since morning.
"Senior…" I called softly.
Liam glanced at me—just for a fraction of a second. His eyes were cold before returning to his swings, as if my presence wasn't important enough to interrupt him.
"How does it feel to clean the entire residence without help?" he said mid-motion, his tone flat but clearly biting.
A taunt he didn't bother to hide.
I clenched my fists behind the thin servant uniform. If this weren't a mission, I would've snapped back already. But I swallowed it, as usual.
Liam finally stopped. His sword lowered slowly. He grabbed the cloth around his neck and wiped the sweat from his temple, his breathing slightly heavy but steady. Even like this, he looked far too comfortable here.
"It's not like you to come see me on your own," he continued. "You usually avoid me, pretend to be busy, or disappear altogether."
That's because you're terrifying—please be self-aware!
"I'm just making sure everything is going according to plan," I replied.
I held my breath, looking at him with a mix of annoyance and caution.
"Your job is to monitor what happens inside the residence," he said. "I'll keep an eye on the Count when he's outside."
That line still echoed in my head.
Nonsense.
It sounded more like a cheap excuse so he could wander freely without touching a mop or carrying a stinking bucket. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. As expected, he stood relaxed, arms crossed, that faint irritating smile on his face—the kind of smile someone wears when they know they've escaped the worst chores.
So annoying.
Should I report him to the captain?
No. Bad idea. Very bad idea.
I could already imagine Liam's expression if that happened—that lazy smile, that overly calm gaze… and then I'd shiver as he quietly killed me later. Yeah, I'd rather stay alive. Cleaning a noble's residence sounded much safer than being silently murdered by my own teammate.
"Ugh…" I muttered under my breath, more a complaint to the world than to anyone in particular.
The sun was almost fully set. The evening sky stretched wide in shades of orange and purple, beautiful in a way that felt too calm. I looked up without thinking, my eyes following a flock of birds cutting across the sky.
Strange.
They didn't look like they were returning to their nests. Their movement was chaotic, pressured—like they were fleeing from something I couldn't see. A faint unease crept up the back of my neck.
Then—
Something shot past my face.
I flinched, my body reacting before my mind could. My feet shifted instinctively, my body leaning aside. A wooden sword stabbed into the ground right where my head had been, still trembling slightly.
My heart nearly leapt out of my chest.
I turned sharply.
Liam stood not far from me, a small whistle at his lips. He whistled casually, as if he hadn't nearly cracked my skull open. He looked satisfied—like a child who had successfully startled someone.
"Nice reflexes," he said lightly. "Train with me."
Can't you ask nicely?!
I looked at the wooden sword, then back at him. There were many things I wanted to say. A lot. Most of them not suitable to be spoken aloud.
I let out a rough sigh.
"Be gentle, unless you want to be haunted for the rest of your life."
Liam let out a short laugh. "I'll be looking forward to it."
Creepy.
I walked over and pulled the wooden sword from the ground. The grip felt rough against my palm, but its weight was just right.
The training field inside Count Viper's residence was wider than it looked from the outside, but not friendly at all. The ground was dense, mixed with sand and fine gravel left deliberately as it was—enough to make anyone slip if careless. A perfect place to train guards… or take down servants who made a wrong step.
I stood at the edge of the field, removing my gloves one by one. The fabric was damp with sweat and dust. Using a sword with gloves would only make my grip slippery and slow my reaction. A small mistake like that could lead to broken bones—or worse, Liam's mockery.
I had barely taken a step forward—
Golden chains suddenly emerged from the ground and wrapped around my ankle with irritating precision. Not tight enough to break bones, but enough to trip me if I moved carelessly. I clicked my tongue.
Across the field, Liam stood relaxed, his wooden sword resting on his shoulder. His dark hair was tied loosely, his red eyes watching me like he was evaluating damaged goods.
That damn smile appeared.
"Relax," he said. "Think of it as a warm-up."
WHAT KIND OF WARM-UP RESTRICTS YOUR OPPONENT FROM MOVING?!
Unfair. Completely unfair. Using abilities during training against someone who officially wasn't even recorded as having any.
Without warning, Liam lunged.
I barely had time to curse as his wooden sword came straight for my face. My body moved before my thoughts. I twisted my wrist, deflecting the attack at an angle. The clash of wood against wood sounded dull but heavy, the vibration running through my arm.
I held.
For a fraction of a second.
"Oh," Liam murmured.
The next push was far more brutal. The pressure from his sword increased—not just from muscle strength, but the air around us tightened. Wind swirled beneath his feet, like a controlled vortex.
Damn it.
The golden chain around my ankle suddenly loosened—not to free me, but to allow one thing.
Force.
My body was thrown backward as if kicked by something invisible. My back slammed against the hard ground, the air knocked straight out of my lungs.
"Uhk—!"
I rolled once before stopping. My vision blurred, the world too bright even as the sun leaned westward. My chest felt crushed from the inside. When I coughed, something warm filled my mouth.
Blood.
I wiped the corner of my lips with the back of my hand. A thin red smear. Not serious—but enough to remind me that Liam was absolutely trying to kill me.
Ah… Captain, why do you love torturing me by assigning such an annoying partner… T-T
Above, birds flew in clusters across the twilight sky. Their movement was too organized. Too fast.
Like they were fleeing.
I slowly pushed myself up, enduring the pain spreading from my chest to my shoulder. Somehow, my wooden sword was still in my grip.
Liam already stood a few steps away, his expression calm—almost bored.
"Get up," he said. "I'm not done."
I let out a quiet scoff.
A demonic guard, a suspicious noble, a spirit hiding behind power—and now I had to survive a "training session" that clearly felt more like a disguised murder attempt.
"Of course," I replied, clicking my tongue as I forced myself upright despite the lingering tremors in my muscles. My breathing was heavy, but I refused to show weakness in front of Liam.
He only smirked—then laughed softly before dashing toward me again with inhuman speed, his sword cutting through the air like an arrow piercing empty space.
I barely had time to react as the wooden blade nearly touched my face. Instinct took over. I tilted my head just enough to find an opening at Liam's side. In that instant, I swung my sword hard.
The ground rumbled beneath us. The sound of wood clashing rang out loudly each time our swords met. Dust and sand scattered into the air as our movements grew faster.
Sweat poured down my temples, dripping onto the sword and ground, my breath growing heavier with each strike that demanded maximum focus and reflex.
"You look amazing in that state," Liam said, raising one hand, his expression… not mocking, but almost admiring.
A chill ran down my spine.
"You sound like a pervert."
Liam pouted, clearly fake. "I already have a fiancée," he replied shortly, ending the strange exchange.
Without pause, he moved again—fast, relentless. His sword shot forward like lightning, every motion testing my reflexes. I reacted automatically, raising my sword to block, but of course, Liam wouldn't let me win so easily. He twisted his body, redirecting his strike from my shoulder to my stomach.
The next second—
I felt something pierce me.
My stomach… it felt like it had been stabbed. My back felt like it was being pressed from the inside. Panic flashed through my mind as my sword slipped from my grip. I looked down—fresh blood seemed to pour from my abdomen.
My breath hitched.
The pain felt real. Too real.
But—
A few seconds later, everything shifted.
"Wake up, idiot!" Liam's voice snapped me out of it.
The horrifying scene vanished. I saw Liam in front of me, both his hands raised beside his head. My wooden sword was pressed against his neck—my stance, my control.
My stomach?
No wound. Not even a scratch. His sword lay quietly on the ground.
I looked down quickly, my heart still racing. My breathing was ragged, my hands trembling as I pulled the sword away.
"Senior… what just happened?" I asked, confused, nearly choking on the tension.
Liam stared at me without blinking, as if judging whether I was strong enough to handle fear—or foolish enough to panic.
"You looked pathetic, so I gave up and let you win."
Ugh… that makes no sense!
"KYAAAHHH!"
A scream shattered the silence of the training field—sharp, panicked, like a life being choked out.
I turned instantly, my heart leaping to my throat.
The sound came from inside the residence—specifically the Count's daughter's room—and it was so close, as if fate itself was dragging me there.
Without thinking, I ran.
Each step struck the ground hard. Sweat poured, my breath ragged. Servants around me looked at me with concern, some calling out—but I heard nothing except that echoing scream.
I burst through the door—
And the sight inside nearly paralyzed my mind.
On the floor, a small five-year-old girl—the daughter of Count Viper—sat upright. Her tiny body was stained with thick red, smeared across her clothes and hands.
She was holding something that was clearly not a toy.
Raw meat. Torn pieces—something that had once been a small animal.
A knife lay nearby, its tip dripping fresh blood mixed with dirt and scraps of food, forming a vivid red pattern on the floor.
Her eyes…
Empty.
Her gaze was fixed straight ahead, piercing through the servant trying to restrain her. She moved slowly, mechanically—as if unaware of what she was doing. Her small fingers pressed into the meat again—
And took a bite.
Fresh blood splattered, dripping onto the floor like glowing red ink under the evening light.
My breath caught.
My heart pounded so hard it echoed in my neck. My body stiffened completely. Heat and cold collided—heat from the blood and chaos, cold from the silence in her empty gaze.
The servant trying to stop her was hysterical—pale, trembling, tears streaming uncontrollably. Every bite tore the meat apart, the wet sounds adding to the chaos. The thick scent of blood filled the air, making me nauseous.
I swallowed hard.
Something was very wrong.
Every movement the girl made felt more terrifying than the last. Her small hands no longer looked human—but like tools. And those hollow eyes… like they wanted to devour everything.
Liam finally moved, closing the distance quickly. But he stayed silent. His eyes flicked to me briefly—a signal not to panic.
I knew that… but I couldn't control the fear.
I swallowed again, forcing myself to calm down as I stepped closer. Each step brought me nearer to the horror, the scent of blood thickening, the air growing heavier.
I had to act.
Or she would sink deeper into this darkness.
I glanced at Liam. He only shrugged slightly—as if saying, this is your responsibility as a servant.
Wait—aren't you the guard here?!
"Mister…" the servant called, her voice trembling violently.
I turned slowly, looking at her tear-streaked face.
Don't call me… I'm scared too.
"Please stop, miss… I can make you proper food," I said gently, holding her small hand that still gripped the blood-soaked meat.
The girl looked at me.
Her green pupils—once bright—now shimmered like shattered glass.
I could feel her heartbeat, frantic, trembling through her small body.
The piece of rabbit meat fell from her hand with a soft wet sound.
Her large green eyes stared at me—empty, yet pleading.
Tears streamed down her pale cheeks, mixing with blood.
"Hic… Uncle… I'm scared…" her small voice cracked.
I knelt down to her level—
And suddenly, she threw herself into me, hugging my arm tightly.
"I… I killed Lili… Uncle… I killed Lili…"
Her voice broke into sobs.
My body stiffened.
Lili—her beloved pet. The only companion she had when her family left her alone.
Each word cut through the silence like a blade.
I slowly returned her embrace, letting her tremble against me.
"It's okay… I'm here," I whispered softly.
She cried harder—but gradually, her body softened.
The fear inside her began to melt.
Being this close to such reality made my head feel heavy.
What could drive a child that young to do something even adults would hesitate to?
From the moment I stepped into this residence, something had always felt off. Not fear with a clear source—but a nauseating sensation that lingered deep in my chest, even in sleep.
And then there was Liam.
He had always been strange—but lately, it felt different. Like he was hiding something behind that relaxed smile.
Like standing before an unlocked door… but refusing to open it because of a terrible premonition.
Something was wrong.
"What happened to her?"
Liam's voice cut through my thoughts.
He stood at the doorway, his gaze sharp as it took in everything—the blood, the knife, the trembling servant, the shaking child.
His expression barely changed.
Only his eyes hardened slightly.
The servant beside me lowered her head further, her shoulders shaking, unable to speak.
Silence fell again.
Liam's gaze shifted—from the servant, to the floor, then to the girl.
For a moment, his expression was unreadable.
His hand lifted slightly—as if to say something—
Then dropped.
"Let the young lady rest first."