Isolde paused before the sealed door.
There was a hidden chamber beneath the castle.
She reached out and touched one of the chains. A sharp sting immediately pierced her fingertip.
Coldness seeped beneath her skin, as though something behind the door were watching her.
Isolde quickly withdrew her hand.
Even her authority as the castle’s new master couldn’t open it.
Either Valen had buried the secret extremely well, or Sylvain Castle had a history that predated him.
Lia stood beside her and asked, “Would you like me to break the seal by force?”
“No.”
Isolde had only just become the castle’s new master. There was no reason to start by tearing open a forbidden underground chamber.
Locked doors rarely hid beginner gift packs.
Besides, the areas of the castle already available to her were more than large enough. Walking through the entire estate had left her legs aching.
Isolde glanced at her eighteen points of Strength and sighed inwardly.
Strength clearly wanted nothing to do with her, and her stamina wasn’t much better.
“Leave it sealed,” she said. “We’ll deal with it later.”
“Yes, Miss.”
Two days later, Isolde finally had a general understanding of Sylvain Castle.
It was far more than an ordinary residence.
Its outer defenses could mislead intruders. Its inner defenses could trap them. The banquet hall could enforce rule-based Judgments, while the underground laboratory could process materials and modify dolls.
Valen had wasted all that potential by using it as nothing more than a lair.
Still, Isolde had no intention of making major changes yet.
First, she lacked the resources.
Second, there was no need.
For now, Sylvain Castle’s most important functions were concealment, protection, and resource storage.
It needed to remain quietly hidden inside the gray fog. The less attention it attracted, the better.
The one who truly needed to move was Isolde herself.
Sitting in the main hall, she reorganized everything she had learned over the past two days.
Lia’s upgrade path had been established.
Castle Storage was operating normally.
The outer traps could maintain a minimum level of defense, while the illusion array would retain only its concealment effect.
The Unknown Underground Chamber would remain sealed.
The underground laboratory would continue to be cleaned, then reserved for dollcraft and material processing.
All that remained was for Isolde to leave the castle.
Several early-game resource locations in Fallen Realm had to be claimed as soon as possible.
If she didn’t take their skill books, materials, and hidden quests first, they would soon fall into the hands of other players.
Then there were the people who had survived by trampling over her in her previous life.
They hadn’t grown powerful yet.
This was the perfect time to crush them before they had the chance.
Isolde lifted her cold tea and took a slow sip.
The bitterness spread across her tongue, sharpening her thoughts.
Sylvain Castle was her trump card.
A trump card lost its value if it was shown every day.
She needed to hide herself, hide the castle, and claim every valuable opportunity before anyone understood what was happening.
Stay quiet. Grow stronger. Take anything worth taking.
Kill anyone who needed killing.
“Miss, there is one more matter,” Lia suddenly said.
Isolde looked up.
“Go on.”
Over the last two days, she had gradually grown accustomed to being the master of Sylvain Castle.
Lia lowered her gaze.
“The body parts from the Northlands will arrive the day after tomorrow.”
Isolde stopped moving.
She had nearly forgotten.
Valen had mentioned that shipment. The body parts were important materials intended for his next fusion.
Anything Valen considered valuable was bound to be worth seeing.
“Let them deliver it as planned.”
“Should I activate the castle’s defenses?” Lia asked.
“No.”
Isolde raised a hand and lightly brushed the Secret-Seeker Button sewn into her cuff.
“Open the main gates.”
“Will you receive them personally, Miss?”
Isolde smiled gently.
“Of course. They’ve traveled all this way to deliver materials to our door. It would be rude for the new owner not to welcome them.”
Two evenings later, bells rang beyond the gray fog.
Their clear notes echoed through the silent withered forest, sending a chill down the back of anyone who heard them.
Isolde stood beside a second-floor window and drew aside the sheer black curtain.
In the distance, the fog parted.
A carriage slowly approached.
On closer inspection, it wasn’t truly a carriage.
Sixteen withered branches extended from beneath it, stepping across the damp ground like rows of long fingers and carrying the vehicle forward.
The cabin was tall and narrow, resembling a traveling general store with a pointed roof.
Small signs covered its door. They knocked softly together as the vehicle moved, each marked with dense writing and labels.
Some were written in the Common Tongue.
Others bore symbols Isolde couldn’t read.
Lia stood behind her and reported in her usual stiff voice.
“Miss, the deliveryman has arrived.”
“I can see that.”
Isolde released the curtain and headed downstairs.
Today, she hadn’t worn the white dress.
Instead, she had chosen the luxurious black gown of Sylvain Castle’s master.
She was no longer playing the helpless victim.
If she was meeting a merchant, she needed to look like someone worth doing business with.
Otherwise, he might see a new establishment with a young owner and assume she was easy to cheat.
The castle gates slowly opened.
Faceless servants stood silently on both sides, parting the fog down the middle.
The traveling shop stopped before the entrance.
All sixteen branches beneath it withdrew at once and folded neatly against the base.
The cabin settled firmly onto the ground, becoming a small shop that appeared to have opened for business on the spot.
Its door creaked open.
Someone stepped outside.
Calling him human was something of a courtesy.
He was extremely tall and as thin as a dried wooden coat rack.
A long coat hung from his narrow frame, stitched together from old cloth, leather, animal fur, and sheets of contract parchment.
Small bottles, copper coins, and pointed fangs dangled from its edges.
With every step, they rattled against one another, making him sound like a scarecrow covered in charms.
He had no visible features.
A white mask concealed his face, painted with a strange smile whose corners curved unnaturally high.
The longer Isolde looked at it, the more it seemed to mock anyone foolish enough to expect fairness from him.
She studied him for a moment and confirmed that she had never met him before.
The wandering merchant removed his top hat and bowed with practiced grace.
“Good evening, my beautiful lady.”
“I have a shipment ordered by Duke Valen Sylvain ten years ago. He is required to receive it in person.”
Isolde smiled.
“Ten years ago?”
The original Isolde had only become Valen’s adopted daughter five years earlier.
This order was older than her connection to him.
When Isolde didn’t respond, the merchant continued.
“To be precise, Duke Valen reserved the merchandise. He must personally accept the delivery and pay the remaining balance.”
Isolde stood before the gates, her smile unchanged.
If anything, it became gentler.
“Duke Valen is unwell and cannot meet with you.”
The man tilted his head.
“What sort of illness?”
“The kind that prevents him from ever waking again. I’m afraid he won’t be signing for anything.”
The man fell silent.
For one brief moment, so did the world around them.
Then he gave a quiet laugh.
“I see. That explains why this castle smells different.”
He placed his top hat back on his head.
Only then did Isolde notice the faded copper coins and several bleached finger bones sewn along its brim.
The man smoothed his cuffs and bowed to her again.
“In that case, allow me to introduce myself properly.”
“I am Orren, the Third Wandering Merchant and one of the Contract God’s most devoted followers.”
“My business includes, but is by no means limited to, forbidden materials, mistaken destinies, expired prophecies, and unclaimed inheritances left behind by dead customers.”