No sound of wind, and certainly no footsteps.
The space itself distorted with a sudden, unnatural tremor.
The moonlight in the garden was swallowed by a rift, and the night air, which should have flowed gently, became cold and viscous.
Harvey stood up immediately.
From the dark rift, a figure slowly emerged.
Her body was covered in pale bone, and folds of white cartilage cascaded from her waist, swaying silently in the night like the hem of a gown. This form was nearly human, yet every detail bled with an otherworldly eeriness.
The Great God of the Underworld — Hera Mnemosyne.
She had descended just like that, without a sound.
On the day he checked the records regarding Fairies, Harvey had naturally looked up information on the God of the Underworld. What surprised him was her surname, “Mnemosyne.”
It held two meanings: “memory” and “remembrance.” Some ancient records even called the God of the Underworld the Mother of Language and Writing. Since she was the God of the Underworld, the fear Harvey expected to feel toward a “God of Death” inexplicably faded a little.
Hera looked down at him. She was not satisfied with her little Proxy’s overly calm reaction.
The next moment, long, pale bone fingers gently brushed against the side of Harvey’s face.
Cold.
It wasn’t rough; instead, it felt like white jade polished to perfection, a chill that made one’s spine tingle.
“Just how much longer are you going to dawdle?”
A familiar, soft tone, almost pleasant to the ear.
But Harvey still instinctively tensed his shoulders. “What are you referring to?”
“Wait a moment.”
Before Hera could speak further, Harvey turned to look around, his expression mixed with a belated sense of bewilderment. “I didn’t draw a Summoning Circle. My Lady, how did you suddenly appear here?”
Hera watched him silently. Her gaze held no obvious displeasure or sarcasm; it simply carried a natural sense of superiority, as if she were looking at an uncivilized child.
“Since I have already signed a Soul Contract with you,” she said softly, “I can naturally descend a Projection to your side at any time.”
She leaned down slightly, her bone fingers sliding down the side of Harvey’s face. “Or… do you still lack any self-awareness as my Proxy?”
Harvey froze for a moment.
“Of course I have it.”
Because he knew he possessed the power of the God of the Underworld, he hadn’t dared to rush to the Magic Association for certification. Hera read his mind. She didn’t expose him, a faint, ambiguous smile playing on her lips as she made another mental note against this pesky little fellow.
“If that is the case,” Hera’s tone remained gentle as her cold fingertips tapped his collarbone, “then why haven’t you taken even half a step forward yet?”
Harvey didn’t react immediately. “What half step?”
Hera looked at him, the ghostly blue flames in her eyes flickering gently.
“There is a door right beside you. Yet you remain standing outside, refusing to reach out.”
Harvey stared, then seemed to realize something as his expression turned subtle. “…Are you talking about the Head Maid?”
“It seems you are not hopelessly dull.” Hera withdrew her hand, her gaze slowly sweeping over the quiet garden. “Appearance, talent, lineage, and magical affinity — she has practically laid everything out before your eyes. Yet you have lived in the same Mansion as her for so long, and you are still stuck at this stage.”
She sighed softly. It wasn’t heavy, but for some reason, it made Harvey feel worse than a direct reprimand.
“I thought you would be a bit greedier than this.”
Harvey remained silent for a moment, his brow furrowing deeper. He thought for a long time but still couldn’t accurately understand what Hera was truly trying to say.
Hera watched him. After a moment, she suddenly raised her finger.
In the next instant, fragmentary and ambiguous images were easily flipped into the depths of Harvey’s consciousness. The complex yet straightforward emotions between men and women in those stories were laid out before him without any concealment.
Harvey’s ears flushed hot, and he instinctively wanted to retreat. But Hera’s voice followed him, still gentle.
“Do you understand now?”
“…”
Harvey opened his mouth, and it took a while to find his voice. “My Lady.”
“Yes?”
“Why…” he hesitated but asked in a low voice anyway, “why would you want me to develop that kind of relationship with the Head Maid?”
Hera looked at him silently and tapped his forehead. “Because you are too weak. If my spokesperson remains like this, he will have no value worthy of my expectations.”
Harvey’s throat tightened. Although the words were hurtful, he couldn’t refute them. Whether it was Evelyn or Lavia, his current relationships with them were not normal or equal.
Hera saw through the embarrassment in his heart, and her voice became even more tender. “However, you don’t need to be discouraged. As long as you can master more power and become valuable enough, many things that seem distant now will slowly draw closer to you.”
Harvey whispered, “Is that so…”
But he could hear for himself that there wasn’t much confidence in those words. He hadn’t even found a true path to pursue power yet. After a moment of silence, Harvey couldn’t suppress his inner longing.
“But what does this have to do with you wanting me to develop feelings for the Head Maid?”
Hera looked at him. Those blue flame-like pupils reflected the night, cold yet carrying a near-divine tranquility.
“Right now, you can grasp nothing. Except for your identity as a man.”
Her voice was like cold silk threads, winding around Harvey’s breath inch by inch. “If you wish to go further, you must learn to draw close to those who stand higher than you. And compared to fleeting exploitation or fragile alliances, emotions are a more stable and lasting bond.”
The skeletal silhouette exuded a chilling, eerie beauty in the night. Looking at the Great God of the Underworld before him, Harvey unconsciously held his breath.
“Only eternal faith is worthy of the eternal Underworld. You must grow stronger, and you must leave behind enough exceptional descendants. Only then can the Faith of the Underworld God be passed down from generation to generation.”
The night wind in the garden grew several degrees colder. Harvey stood frozen, unable to respond for a long time. He had originally thought Hera was just making some mischievous joke. But after all that circling, she was actually serious about the continuation of faith.
However, this line of thinking… no matter how he heard it, it sounded like she was treating him as some kind of tool that needed to keep breeding.
“…Don’t you think saying that is a bit too much?”
“Too much?” Hera asked back calmly. “I bestowed power upon you. You ensure my name remains in the Human World. Isn’t that fair?”
Even with her appearance, Harvey could sense her matter-of-fact attitude. Hera looked at him, shook her head with a smile, and let out a sigh.
“Do you think any of those written into human history didn’t pay a price? Power, fame, bloodline, and responsibility — these have never been separate things. In this regard, you are not even as insightful as your Young Master.”
Harvey’s expression became even more awkward. “But I’m having trouble even protecting myself right now, and you’re already considering things like descendants?”
“That is why I am anxious for you.” Hera tapped his forehead and said slowly, “In your current state, let alone talk of continuity, you probably can’t even get an exceptional woman to truly keep her eyes on you.”
Harvey was completely speechless.
For some reason, he suddenly felt that the Great God of the Underworld before him was, in a sense, somewhat similar to the Head Maid. Both only looked at results. Both placed efficiency above all else. And both left no room for self-deception.
Thinking of this, scenes from tonight’s training flashed through Harvey’s mind. The near-harsh precision Evelyn used when correcting his movements, the way her gaze fell on him, and that judgment that was far clearer and calmer than an average person’s.
If there was truly someone in this Mansion who could help him learn something in the shortest time…
“My Lady,” Harvey fell silent for a moment before suddenly looking up. “My relationship with the Head Maid today should count as having made a bit of progress, right? So… if I actively ask, is it possible she would be willing to teach me some things about magic?”
Hera looked down at him, her tone so calm it was almost flat. “Then how do you plan to bring it up? Run in front of her like a child who knows nothing and ask if she can teach you magic? Do you think she would agree to that?”
“…”
Harvey reached up to scratch his hair, his expression growing more troubled. “But even if you want me to get close to her…” His voice trailed off unconsciously. “Would someone as exceptional as the Head Maid really be interested in me?”
The smile on Hera’s face widened. More than the difference in race, the distance in status, or even the danger of the Fairy herself — this little fellow was first concerned about whether the other party would accept him.
She watched Harvey silently. There wasn’t much emotion on the face covered by pale bone. But for the first time, she felt that this fool had finally touched upon a real problem.
And so.
“Why are you so insecure…?” Hera cupped Harvey’s face, her fingertips resting right at the corner of his lips. The smile wasn’t obvious, but it held an indescribable charm and sense of inducement. “You are, after all, a Servant of the Underworld God.”
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