Returning to Earl Harris Manor, Tia had just reached the corridor when she saw maids gathered in groups of two or three, discussing something excitedly.
Approaching cautiously to listen, she realized it was related to what she had done.
“Hey, have you heard? There are quite a few witches in this city!”
“For real? Witches are rare these days.”
“It’s definitely true. The Inquisition just caught a witch yesterday, and it wasn’t even the one on the wanted poster!”
“Oh, I know about that too. The witch on the wanted poster is said to be the Inquisition’s greatest headache. They’ve tried to catch her several times, but she always escapes!”
“What? Is that witch really that terrifying?!”
Catching a witch was a massive victory for the Inquisition, so they quickly spread the news of what had happened throughout Hela City to showcase their prestige.
However, as the news spread, the public’s focus was entirely different from what they had intended.
The witch who hadn’t been caught became a dark cloud looming over Hela City.
The word “Nightingale” suddenly became a synonym for terror.
Helplessly covering her forehead, Tia was momentarily speechless.
‘As Nightingale herself, I don’t want to be that famous!’
But soon, the maids changed the subject and began discussing her.
“So what if she’s terrifying? Haven’t you heard? The reason the Inquisition could catch that witch this time was because of our Young Lady’s strategy!”
“I heard that too! They say our Young Lady deserves the top credit for this operation!”
“With the Young Lady around, catching the remaining witches is only a matter of time!”
When speaking of their Young Lady, their eyes held nothing but admiration and longing.
After all, who wouldn’t like a girl who was stunningly beautiful, gentle, and intelligent?
In response, Tia coughed softly, smoothing her skirt and hair.
‘Sigh, the way they talk, I’m starting to feel the pressure of being an idol.’
After quietly slipping away from the corridor, she unexpectedly ran into Margaret, her Etiquette Tutor.
The moment Margaret saw her, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Tia in a tight hug.
Her expression was excited, yet tinged with lingering fear.
“My Lady! How could you not tell me about something so big? Do you know how worried I was?!”
“Am I not perfectly fine?”
Tia replied somewhat stifled while nestled in her embrace, feeling the soft warmth and the scent of lilacs.
Margaret released her, grabbing her shoulders with a serious expression.
“Hmph, if you weren’t fine, I’m afraid the Earl would have torn Hela City apart!”
“My father… what happened to him?”
After a moment of hesitation, Margaret replied helplessly, “The Earl is actually very proud that you helped the Inquisition catch a witch. But on the other hand, he doesn’t like you having contact with the Inquisition…”
As the Etiquette Tutor who had lived in the Harris Manor for many years, she understood the conflict between Lady Tia and Earl Harris better than anyone.
Earl Harris had always raised his daughter like a canary.
He was highly controlling and disliked her defying him, though he had relaxed slightly in recent years.
Meanwhile, Lady Tia had entered her rebellious phase.
Not only was she unwilling to listen to the Count, but she also enjoyed taking the initiative to do dangerous things…
Though their relationship looked peaceful on the surface, it was like unlit gunpowder that would explode at the slightest spark.
And Lady Tia’s actions this time had completely infuriated him.
Thinking it over, Margaret sighed and said, “He is currently in a fit of rage. I suggest you go see him tomorrow instead. He should have calmed down by then.”
By saying this, she was actually more afraid that Lady Tia would see the Count now and say something rebellious in the heat of the moment, making their relationship even more strained.
Tia didn’t think too much of it; after all, Earl Harris wasn’t her real father.
After bidding Margaret farewell, she headed to the bathroom.
Taking off her dress and pinning up her long hair, she soaked herself in the pool.
Feeling the warmth brought by the hot water, she unconsciously recalled her experience in the illusion.
She seemed to have experienced such warmth in the illusion as well, though it was much more stimulating than this.
Not only that, but there had been a comfort that seeped into her very marrow…
As she thought about it, one of her hands slid beneath the water.
‘I haven’t even explored this body much since my reincarnation, yet Mephia got to touch it first in the illusion. How… hateful!’
But if she touched it herself… would she feel that way too?
***
Hela City, Underground Dungeon.
The cell was filled with a perennial, cold dampness.
The torches on the walls flickered with the draft, their dim yellow light barely outlining the prison’s interior.
Grey Cat was locked in the deepest part of the dungeon.
In addition to five or six trap magics hidden nearby, heavy Magic Shackles were fitted around her wrists, ankles, and neck, sealing her Magic Power from every angle.
After a long time, a figure wearing the standard black uniform of an Inquisitor arrived in front of the cell.
Most of his face was hidden in the shadows of the corridor, with only the Inquisitor Badge on his chest reflecting a silver-white light.
He didn’t speak immediately, nor did he open the cell door.
He simply pulled another badge from his coat—one engraved with a bizarre Snake Eye.
Under the faint light, the snake eye seemed to be slowly turning.
Grey Cat lifted her eyelids to glance at him before closing them again in annoyance.
Her voice was hoarse from thirst and exhaustion.
“What are you doing here? Aren’t you afraid of being discovered as a member of Snake Eye?”
“No one knows what I’m saying to you.”
“In that case,” Grey Cat took a deep breath, her tone carrying undisguised irritation, “why don’t you find a way to get me out of here? Also, since when did this dungeon start being so ‘hospitable’ to prisoners?”
She strained to lift her arms, which were bound by multiple magical restraints.
“Sticking all these things on me… are you that afraid I’ll run?”
“That would expose me. As for the restraints on you, blame Nightingale. This place was reformed only after she escaped from the dungeon first.”
The Inquisitor’s voice was devoid of emotion.
He withdrew his hand, and the Snake Eye Badge disappeared into his sleeve.
“Then what are you here for?”
Grey Cat spat, then settled back into a lazy posture.
“To mock me?”
“I want to know the specifics about Nightingale.”
“Nightingale? Her again?”
Grey Cat sneered.
“Unfortunately, aside from knowing her name is Nightingale, I really know nothing at all. The Witch Council doesn’t share information about its witches with your kind, even if we are collaborators.”
She paused, opened her eyes, and her tone turned playful.
“But let me warn you. If you’re looking to cooperate with her, that’s fine; she’s a very capable partner. But if you’re looking for trouble…”
At this point, Grey Cat’s tone suddenly turned cold, carrying a warning that bordered on schadenfreude.
“That’s likely just seeking death. Nightingale is not simple at all.”
The Inquisitor remained silent for a moment.
After a long time, he finally spoke, his voice unreadable.
“To receive such an evaluation from you… she really is a major thorn in my side.”
“You really intend to deal with her? It seems not everyone in Snake Eye is smart,” Grey Cat said, tilting her head with a mocking smile.
“Is that so?” the Inquisitor replied noncommittally.
He took one last look at Grey Cat before stepping back, merging himself back into the deeper shadows of the corridor.
Then, his voice drifted from the darkness, as chilling as a snake’s hiss:
“Then just you wait and see. I will kill the person you couldn’t. That Daughter of a Count won’t live much longer. And Nightingale… will be the same.”