Teest had changed into a hotel robe—a linen nightgown that just went past his knees. Nol wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but he felt Teest was somewhat gloating.
Who said he couldn't manipulate dreams? He could figure it out! But thinking of the starting cost of the spell being 200 MP, Nol quickly compromised. "I can't, and I'm not a succubus."
"Then lie down quickly. Just holding hands will suffice." Teest quickly took the left side of the bed, letting his long hair spread across a pillow.
Nol changed into the same kind of nightwear and climbed onto the bed with a bitter expression.
From infancy to adulthood, he had never shared a bed with anyone. With the added weight of another person on the bed, no matter how he lay, it felt awkward.
Both of them lay on their backs, with Teest's left hand tightly holding Nol's right hand. The curtains were drawn, surrounding them in darkness. Their body warmth was seemingly the only thing present.
The undead didn't need sleep, just as some people didn't need a nap—it was fine without it, but napping wasn't bad either.
Nol closed his eyes, trying hard to feel drowsy.
"Haha." Teest suddenly chuckled in the dark.
The sleepiness that Nol had just caught vanished. "Why are you laughing?"
"It's like going back to being three years old." Teest's voice was filled with amusement. "I kind of miss my childhood."
Nol: "…Alright, goodnight, little knight."
The room returned to silence, which lasted less than two minutes—
"Pfft!" This time, it was Nol who laughed.
Teest: "What are you laughing at now?"
"I just thought of sea otters," Nol said. "Did you know? They lie back on the water's surface and sleep holding hands."
Teest: "..."
Teest tried hard to stifle his laughter. "…Then goodnight, dear Mr. Sea Otter."
With the atmosphere lightened, Nol relaxed, and he quickly fell asleep.
...
He was running.
No, she was running. Nol couldn't feel Teest's presence. His telepathic connection was also gone. He was experiencing some memories from Hannah's first-person perspective.
Hannah ran through the forest, her feet touching the soft grass. Her emotions were almost blank, with fleeting scenes flashing in her mind—
Margaret Swain hid in an abandoned wooden house with a smile that was pure and genuine.
"I still wanted to see you," she said. "You're my little sister."
"I'm the older one," Hannah corrected. "Enough, Maggie. Now you know you're not blood related. We're both children of slaves. The City Lord must have bought you willingly."
Hannah lowered her voice, and her tone became a bit harsh. "He hid the truth from you, dyed your hair black, and made everyone believe you're his biological daughter. If he found out about me now—your twin sister—can you guess what he'd do?"
"Daddy won't hurt you," Margaret said. "When I realized our relationship, I was indeed a bit upset. But even without blood ties, Daddy has always been particularly good to me. He loves me."
Hannah looked into those green eyes, identical to her own.
They differed in hair color, physique, and clothing, but the biggest difference was in their eyes—Margaret's eyes were open and clear. She seemed to trust everyone.
"He always buys me the best things, hires the best tutors, never gets angry with me… Oh, the last time I got sick, he stayed by my bed all night and even made cream soup."
"What you said—if I had a puppy, I could do all that for it too," Hannah responded unhappily.
"Our grandmother used to tell us that there are only three kinds of love in the world—love for pets, love for gods, and finally, love for people. Often, these three kinds of love seem the same…"
Margaret interrupted her, "I'm not a pet! So tell me, how should I prove it to you?"
"You can't," Hannah replied. "Rather than worrying about this, think about what you'd do if he betrays you."
Margaret opened her mouth, a hint of anger flashing across her face, but she quickly suppressed it.
"I didn't come here to cause trouble." Her expression turned serious. "Listen, Hannah, I want to save Little Spoon."
Hannah looked up abruptly.
"I know she's very ill. Tom told me. She needs a doctor—a regular one won't do. She needs our family's doctor. I must ask Daddy for help."
Hannah didn't make a sound. She wanted to say that Little Spoon would make it through, but she wasn't sure. Just like she wasn't sure if the City Lord was a "good person". What if she got it wrong?
"Daddy loves the desserts from the Egret Restaurant the most," Margaret continued, her expression a bit mischievous. "Lately, he's been busy outside. I had someone deliver it to him, and he would definitely be thrilled. Then I'll jump out and give him a surprise."
"When the time comes, I'll introduce Little Spoon to him. I'll tell him she helped me a lot before, and Daddy will treat her illness."
Hannah bit her lip, pondered for a long time, and finally nodded.
"Trust me, Little Spoon will be fine." Margaret smiled again.
A wave of emotion suddenly overwhelmed Hannah. She felt anticipation, confusion, joy, and worry simultaneously.
"Why go to such lengths?" she asked. "It's better for both of us to end this relationship. I won't pester you… Little Spoon doesn't even like you."
"I know your friends always disappear. Daddy must be very distressed. As the heir to the City Lord, this is what I should do."
"I also know, they're more like family to you. You'd do anything for them." Margaret kept smiling and continued, "…As Margaret, I'd do anything for my family too."
Naive, innocent Margaret Swain.
The City Lord could easily see through her little tricks. She'd likely fail, Hannah thought.
"Thank you," Hannah said, looking at that smiling face and suppressing her suspicions.
Nol sighed in his heart.
[If the Demon Lord hadn't killed Young Kurt in front of me, and Maggie happened to witness it, I wouldn't need to deal with the Investigation Knights at all. Do you know how troublesome it was to deal with Margaret? She's my heir.]
The errand boy from the Egret Restaurant, Young Kurt, and the Margaret who wanted to surprise her father… Now it all made sense.
They were at the wrong place at the worst possible time.
...
Hannah continued to run in the dark forest, her feet stepping on vein-like tree roots. She gasped for breath, tasting the metallic flavor of blood in her throat.
A void of emotions gradually filled with panic. She was sweating profusely, but her insides felt cold.
Her memories continued to play back.
Just as Hannah guessed, on the promised introduction day, Margaret didn't show up. Fortunately, she had given them enough money, and Little Spoon barely survived.
What Hannah didn't expect was to see Margaret next at the Evergreen Church entrance.
After so many days, Margaret looked much thinner. Her hair was messy, and her nightgown was dirty. Guards blocked the view of the public while maids held Margaret, dragging her away from the church's main door.
"Miss Swain is undergoing mental treatment," they explained.
Margaret struggled desperately, looking at the church. She tried to scream, but no sound came out.
"The City Lord is truly pitiful." The people sighed. "How did his lovely daughter go mad?"
"He really dotes on her. Everyone knows that when Miss Swain was sick last time, the City Lord personally watched over her and even cooked cream soup."
"Please don't discuss this in public," the guards instructed the church personnel proficiently. "Miss Swain is only fourteen. It's not good for this to get out."
Margaret froze in place. Everyone knew her father was the City Lord, and this was his city.
She looked at the church doors again, suddenly bit her tongue, and with a magical glow, formed a sentence in the air with her blood—
[I saw the Mad Monk.]
After doing all this, Margaret noticed Hannah in the crowd.
She smiled weakly, her green eyes hollow and terrifying. Then she mouthed words clearly.
[Pet.]
[Betrayal.]
[Run.]
But Hannah didn't run.
She waited anxiously near the City Lord's mansion day and night, unsure of what she was waiting for.
Margaret couldn't have just gone mad; something was wrong with the City Lord. Hannah thought of seeking help, but who could she turn to? The local church close to the City Lord? Or the City Lord's guards?
At best, since Margaret was the heir to the City Lord, her death would need confirmation from the Investigation Knights. As long as she didn't resist, the City Lord wouldn't easily kill her.
'Please give up,' Hannah prayed.
No matter what, first survive.
Yet her naive sister persisted. One night, Margaret, with an injured leg, tried to crawl out of the mansion gate. Her eyes were disturbingly determined, like a bird crashing into a cage.
This time, the City Lord didn't drag her back to the mansion.
"This girl knows magic. The night is long and fraught with dreams*. We need to deal with her early," the City Lord said irritably. "Let it be known she went mad, ran into the forest, and was attacked by wild beasts. Just like that."
*(夜长梦多) Idiom referring to a long delay may give rise to trouble.
Margaret remained unusually calm. She allowed the guards to push and shove her, walking step by step away from the city and towards the forest.
Hannah could only follow from a distance.
She watched as they reached the depths of the forest and as they released the hungry monsters. Margaret fell to the ground, her entire left leg torn off in an instant.
One of the guards seemed to hesitate. His hand resting on his sword twitched, but a glance from the City Lord stopped him.
"She must be eaten alive by the beasts, not merely have her corpse gnawed at. The Investigation Knights can tell the difference."
Blood flowed, soaking the fallen leaves a dark red. Perhaps due to some magic, Margaret didn't scream. The only sound was the chewing of flesh.
Hannah collapsed among the bushes, her vision darkening. When she finally came to, everything was over.
Margaret… Only Margaret's bloodied head and a portion of her torso remained. Her black hair was covered in blood and mud. Her eyes were half-open, with the corner of her mouth still holding a faint smile.
The heir to the City Lord had disappeared, and the Investigation Knights would be arriving soon.
Hannah finally realized Margaret's intention. Whether it was her public claim of "seeing the Mad Monk" or her submission to death, she simply wanted to attract the Investigation Knights—a more powerful, neutral external force.
Naive, innocent Margaret.
The City Lord was clearly prepared, and your sacrifice was in vain.
…Yet, people always couldn't help but do meaningless things. Hannah reached out her trembling hands towards the corpse.
...
Hannah ran into the deepest part of the forest. Her clothes were torn by thorns, her shoes were gone, and the soles of her feet bled without stopping. She didn't know where she was. She just knew to head towards the darkest, most mysterious place.
In Hannah's arms, Margaret's remains were frighteningly light.
Exhaustion and despair intermingled. Hannah had only one thought left.
The oldest woman in the street used to tell the street kids that there were three kinds of love. She also told them that a terrifying witch lived deep in the forest.
Margaret had died not long ago, and her body was still warm.
Humans couldn't save her, but what about monsters?
Her sprint became a brisk walk, which then turned into a stagger. Finally, Hannah found her destination. A decaying wooden hut, surrounded by parts of broken dolls. There was a faint light shining from its windows.
"Help!" she shouted with the last of her strength, banging on the door. "Help! Open the door!"
Silence from within.
"I'll give you anything—my soul, my life, anything!"
Unable to stand any longer, Hannah slid down the door. "Esteemed One, I beg you. Please save her…"
She clutched the remains of her loved one, pleading until her voice became hoarse. Still, silence from within. Her foolish efforts seemed to have no results.
"It's my fault… It's me… If she hadn't met me, she wouldn't have ended up like this…"
She mumbled deliriously, finally choking back sobs in the vast darkness.
"Please save my sister. I beg you…"
Creak.
The door opened to reveal a doll that looked very much like a real person. She gazed down emotionlessly at Hannah's tear-streaked face.
"How long has she been dead?" the doll asked.
"Not-not more than an hour…"
"Alright." The doll—the Puppet Witch sighed. "Come in. I can save her."
The tension left Hannah's body. Before she could stand, she was dragged into the darkness by fatigue and blood loss.
'Enough,' Nol thought. He could guess what happened next.
[Puppet Legacy: Convert a female human NPC into a Puppet Witch. The converted must be alive or have died within 90 minutes.
※Unique skill of the Puppet Witch. Can only be used once.]
No wonder the City Lord was certain of Margaret's death, yet the witch remained silent.
No wonder Hannah was reluctant to interact with the Investigation Knights. She wanted to protect not just Witch Lynn…
…But also a newly born monster, Witch Margaret.
Nol opened his eyes, looking at the inn's ceiling. He found they were sore and filled with tears. They were Hannah's emotions that hadn't dissipated yet.
"It's normal. I was also confused by these emotions at first." Teest turned to the side without letting go of his grip. "Speaking of which, it's my first time seeing a Lich cry."
"What a coincidence, it's my first time seeing it too," Nol said with a hoarse voice.
"Do you need a hug?"
"I'm fine."
"Alright, now we know the truth." Teest finally let go of Nol's hand and yawned. "Goodnight again, crying Lord Lich."
With that, he turned over, facing away from Nol.
In just a few minutes, a cold sensation touched Teest's neck and shoulder—Nol curled up, gently pressing his forehead against Teest's back.
Teest pretended to be asleep and didn't break the silence.
"Goodnight, Teest," Nol murmured.