During the “education” period, one was completely cut off from the outside world.
Because during that time, anything could be absorbed at a frightening pace.
An empty head could be filled to the brim by the smallest stimulus, so if an outsider were to intrude into the Workshop midway, the education could veer off in a strange direction. The Marquis had repeated that to me over and over.
Then what if I made that strange direction lean in a way favorable to us?
The Marquis will never implant a positive perception of our family. Just look at the servants. He rules them not with affection but with sorcery and fear.
The servants who were never allowed to set foot in the Workshop.
That’s why even Zachary, once the brainwashing sorcery broke, slaughtered us all.
The moment Zachary Thaddeus gained mental freedom, he rampaged and massacred our entire House. That alone proved it.
The Marquis never bothered to implant goodwill in them. Goodwill carried too high a chance of creating unpredictable problems.
Of course, since it came from the Marquis who had studied the matter far longer than me, I could accept his reasoning. But this time was different.
“They’ll die anyway.”
Even if I did nothing, Zachary would eventually succeed in breaking the sorcery binding his body. And once he did, of course he would exterminate every single member of House Serpentine who had tormented him.
Therefore, to escape the foreseen future, the only choice left was for me to act.
Even if I were to instill a favorable impression, if he isn’t released, he’ll obviously end up dead after awakening.
Needless to say, Zachary Thaddeus’s ability, as befits the protagonist, was overwhelming.
His body was bound to escape on its own. Which meant that until then, I had to support him from the side, if I wanted to raise even slightly my chances of survival.
Of course, it’s not like I’ll just help him unconditionally.
Next to the word “help,” I scribbled in small letters: “conditions.” If I won his favor, then while aiding his escape, I could at least beg him to spare the lives of our family. Honestly, all this was born from the orders of King Solaris anyway. From a certain perspective, our family was also a victim.
Those I’d beg him to spare would be my mother and me, and the Marquis. If I were to choose one more, perhaps Erhan?
I wonder how he’s doing.
What had that child grown up into?
Soon he would graduate and return here, so I would inevitably see his face again, but I couldn’t feel purely glad.
I need to be on Erhan’s good side too.
For a comfortable old age, I needed to please him, and I needed to please Zachary as well. There were many people I had to impress.
As my thoughts wandered, I realized I was a little envious of Erhan. He, not knowing of the impending ruin, would just live on in peace.
If worst comes to worst, I’ll just grab Mother’s hand and the two of us will run away.
The difficulty of the situation was so high that by now, I felt almost resigned to whatever may come.
No matter how much I struggled, there was no guarantee the result would turn out well.
If I had been reincarnated as this family’s heir, perhaps I could have somehow solved it. But all I had was scraps of sorcery picked up over shoulders, and the only thing I truly knew was that a massacre awaited in the future. It felt hopeless—until suddenly, something flashed through my mind.
The Serpent’s Passage.
The Serpent’s Passage. The so-called secret passage of House Serpentine.
The Marquis, sometimes seating me on his knee, would tell me stories about it. That within the Serpentine mansion there was a secret passage shared only with the family head and the heir. One day, if we truly became family, he would reveal it to me.
And I knew who had the map of that passage.
It was my mother.
Not long after their marriage, the Marquis had given her the blueprint as a gift. I remembered how he had sulked, saying he thought she would be delighted, but instead she looked quite uninterested.
And later, Mother had given it to me…
“She gave it.”
Yes, she had given it to me.
When was that again?
Honestly, I hadn’t cared much for something like a blueprint. What reason did I have to crawl into a terrifying mansion’s secret passage?
Besides, Mother had given it to me when I was very young, so my memory was hazy.
I need to remember.
But I had to. Tracing back into the past, I recalled the countless nights of fear when Mother was always beside me.
As a child, it seemed my body didn’t mesh well with the mansion’s energy, and I fell sick often.
To the adults back then, I must have looked truly pitiful—always collapsing as if fainting, endlessly catching colds, too frail to even run outside, and plagued by nightmares every night.
Then one day, Mother…
“If you know the path of escape, fear lessens. Shall Mother share a secret with you?”
To cure my nightmares, she had handed me that blueprint.
I must have hidden it somewhere.
Even at a glance, it was an important and precious blueprint.
Had she not given it to me, I might only have received it after becoming an adult. Judging by how the Marquis never mentioned it, he might very well know the blueprint was in my hands…
But since I’ve never once used it until now, even if I use it now, he won’t notice.
Since she told me never to let others find it, I must have hidden it in a very secret place. Luckily, none of the furniture in my room had been changed—I was still using what I had since childhood. As I circled the room, my eyes landed on the dresser, the object most stained with my touch.
Gazing at it, I suddenly realized something, quickly pulled open the drawers, and emptied them all out. Sitting right on the floor, I shoved my hand inside.
Because it had been hidden so long, it didn’t appear easily. As my fingers fumbled along the bottom, I found a barely raised bump, so slight one wouldn’t notice it without touch. My face lit up.
Click—something shifted, and the dusty bottom of the dresser lifted as though it would detach. From that crack, I drew out an old piece of paper with a grin.
“Found it.”
I unfolded the yellowed paper in my hands, unfolded it again, and again.
“The Serpent’s Passage.”
Thankfully, though the paper had faded, the drawings remained clear enough to read. After scanning the secret passage with my eyes to confirm, I folded it back up, tucked it away, and stood.
First, I need to meet him.
Zachary Thaddeus,
I needed to meet the protagonist.
…Or so I had resolved. But already two days had passed.
Easy to say.
The Serpent’s Passage sounded impressive, but in reality it was riddled with problems.
It didn’t connect directly to Zachary’s chamber, but branched into other secret routes. For example, there was a passage leading from my room down to the lower floor. I tried entering it as practice—and nearly died.
Is this the military…?
I couldn’t believe this was supposed to be a “path.”
You had to crawl, stomach to the ground, inching along. Even though it was a relatively easy path leading only down one floor, my whole body poured sweat like rain, and I was bedridden for days after.
For someone who had never exercised in his life, how could I expect my body to handle low-crawling through narrow tunnels?
Still, that part could be forced through with effort. The real problem lay elsewhere.
The Marquis never leaves his post.
What was the point of me nearly killing myself to crawl through the passage? Wasn’t it all to avoid being discovered by the Marquis?
For two days I watched his movements closely.
He ate with us as usual. Though he no longer held the teatimes we often had, he still showed himself to us now and then. That much wasn’t the issue.
Isn’t it about time he went out?
Why, why on earth wouldn’t he leave the estate!
He had to go out, so I could slip into the passage unnoticed, meet Zachary Thaddeus, and somehow make a move.
If I can’t even meet him, what am I supposed to do?
Implant goodwill? Create interference?
For all my lofty resolve, I couldn’t even figure out how to begin. To even form a plan, I first needed to meet him!
And already five days had gone by. By now, he must have reached the third stage of “education.” My patience was running thin.
Looks like he’s not leaving today either.
Sure enough. Through the window, I could see the Marquis strolling leisurely through the garden, as if to aid digestion after a meal.
A part of me wanted to grab him by the collar and shout, “Is this really the time to be taking a stroll? In a few years, all of us will be buried beneath this garden!”
Just then, the distant front gate swung open, and a carriage rolled into the estate.
The carriage came boldly, straight into the inner grounds. Watching it, a question sprang up.
Unless it was a party hosted by our family, no carriage would normally be allowed this deep in.
Puzzled, I stared at the vehicle. Then suddenly, a figure leapt out of it in haste and rushed toward the Marquis.
Tilting my head, I muttered:
“Why would the Royal Knights be here?”