C93: Do you know Erin?

As morning came, Izzy controlled Arnold to greet Erin, their new tenant. Pale sunlight filtered through the tall windows of the mansion’s hall, illuminating floating dust motes and the faint scratches on the wooden floorboards.

Erin stood awkwardly near the entrance, hands clasped in front of her apron. The girl was uneducated, her speech simple and her manners rough around the edges, yet there was diligence in her posture. Since she had offered to clean and maintain the place in exchange for staying, Izzy did not reject her choice.

Afterward, however, they discovered something inconvenient. Their opposite-gender vessels were showing subtle signs of craving toward each other.

“Izzy…”

“No.”

“Oke…”

Izzy concluded it was safest to keep their opposite-gender vessels apart. There was no need to add hormonal chaos into the equation.

As Arnold, he wrapped a fresh bandage around his head and stood in front of the mansion’s imposing gate.

A bird perched on his shoulder, while a mouse nestled quietly inside his coat pocket. Together, they stepped beyond the mansion’s boundary and into the forest.

The air outside was damp and clinging. The ground sucked at his boots with each step. The humid weather pressed against his skin, trapping sweat beneath his clothes.

Mosquitoes buzzed near his ears; unseen insects crawled through the undergrowth. The forest floor was a layered mess of dirt, roots, and decomposing leaves that gave off an earthy scent.

As Arnold walked further, he felt the surroundings subtly shift.

In his eyes, the familiar pine and oak trunks began to contort. They rose like rotting pillars, their bark darkened and cracked. Their surfaces contorted into grotesque shapes of faces. Some seemed to cry silent tears, others looked like they were caught in an eternal laughter.

The air carried the scent of stale, stagnant water and decay. His boot broke the wet snap of a twig beneath his foot, and dry leaves skittered across the ground, their brittle sound unnaturally loud in the oppressive silence.

The path narrowed. Trees leaned inward, trunks aligned like rows of unblinking eyes. Gray fog crept low along the undergrowth, swallowing the distance. Far ahead, where sunlight failed to reach, the forest dissolved into a distorted haze.

“...”

Arnold raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

The unsettling vision in his eyes returned to normal.

Color flooded back. Green stretched endlessly. Sunlight pierced through cracks in the canopy, scattering in soft golden beams that shimmered against moss and bark.

“This forest has become more and more unsettling.” He commented and continued walking.

Once Arnold passed a certain distance from the mansion, dizziness struck him without warning. A wave of vertigo crashed over his senses. His vision swam. His knees buckled and he dropped to one knee, his palm pressing into damp soil.

After a few seconds, the sensation receded. Arnold stood back up, brushed dirt from his trousers, and steadied himself.

‘Some kind of power hides the mansion. the black monument’s intelligence was true,’ Arnold concluded.

*Crack.*

A sound broke through the forest.

It was a boot noise, distinct from the rustle of leaves, crunching into the dry twigs from behind him.

His hand slipped beneath his coat, his fingers tightening around the hidden knife’s handle. He gazed toward the source of the sound cautiously.

“Who’s there?”

The figure sauntered from the shadows of a tree with a composed demeanor. There was no sign of hurry or hostility in his gait, only a leisurely confidence. His features slowly emerged into Arnold’s view.

He looked utterly ordinary at first glance; there was nothing that stood out. He wore a well-tailored black suit, buttoned neatly from chest to waist, with silver thread trimming along the cuffs and lapels. A tailcoat was draped over his suit, matched with a pristine white bowtie.

He looked like any refined gentleman of this era. He must be a wealthy person simply exploring the world.

The man unbuttoned his cuff, removed his top hat with a courteous gesture, revealing clean blond hair neatly parted down the middle.

He bowed with flawless posture, politely smiling at Arnold.

“Good day, sir. I’m a traveler who just arrived here. Do you happen—” Before the self-proclaimed traveler could finish his question, Arnold cut him off.

“I’m sorry, sir, I also don’t know the direction.”

The traveler looked at him, a hint of puzzlement flickering in his eyes.

His gaze lingered on Arnold, before his polite smile returned. “That is most unfortunate.”

He dusted off his coat with his gloved hand and soon bowed again.

“Allow me to introduce myself. The name is Mister Gentle. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Arnold gradually released his grip on the hidden knife beneath his coat, though his fingers did not stray far from it.

‘Mister Gentle? What an unusual name.’ It sounded more like a title than a given name.

“Do you make your residence alone here? In this deep forest? Does it not prove rather… uncomfortable?” Gentle’s voice laced with an unexpected familiarity.

Arnold frowned. They had only just met, and already questions were being thrown at him one after another?

“It was comfortable enough, unlike those folk in the village,” Arnold answered with mild irritation. “Besides, I’m not alone.”

“Oh?” Gentle’s eyes brightened slightly.

“I live with another.”

“And who might that be, pray tell?”

‘?’ Arnold paused. He considered the question. Why was this suddenly so personal? An uneasy feeling tugged at his chest.

“It was Erin. She just moved in recently,” Arnold replied cautiously.

Gentle widened his eyes, a flash of surprise momentarily breaking his composed feature.

“Ah! Lady Erin Miller. I believe I know the young lady. She was traveling with that… transporter group, was she not? How fares she now?”

‘Is he Erin’s acquaintance?’ Arnold questioned himself. That also explained the familiarity that Gentle showed toward him.

“She’s fine. Why are you asking all this?” Arnold’s patience snapped. He did not have time for such circuitous nonsense.

“Ah, my apologies,” Gentle said after a brief pause, dipping his head with impeccable courtesy. “I merely expressed concern for her well-being. She appeared to be rather ill-treated in the company of those transporters.”

“...”

Arnold nodded. He understood that impression. Holding a blindfolded girl captive on a cart certainly looked suspicious. Even Izzy had initially mistaken it for kidnapping.

“That’s alright. It happens.”

Gentle smiled again, adjusting the button on his cuff. “Might I ascertain her current abode? I must admit, I am rather worried.” He glanced toward the deeper forest, then back to Arnold. “In exchange, I shall be most pleased to guide you to the village.”

‘...?’ Arnold’s thoughts stopped for a second. Hadn’t this self-proclaimed traveler just said he did not know the direction?

Arnold shook his head lightly. ‘Maybe I misheard it.’

“Mm, sure,” He agreed after a moment. After all, it was only leading him back to the mansion. Nothing serious about it.

“Then, shall we?”

Gentle’s smile deepened slightly as Arnold turned and walked along the narrow path.

Arnold discreetly expanded his Field Vision, monitoring the man behind him. The forest canopy swayed gently above them, scattering mottled light across the trail.

Gentle followed at an even pace.The gentleman did nothing suspicious, save for continually fiddling with his cuff’s buttons.

After a short while, Arnold crossed the invisible boundary surrounding the mansion.

The moment he stepped through it, a wave of disorientation washed over him. His body swayed slightly, his vision blurring for a fraction of a second before stabilizing.

“Mister Arnold, are you quite well?”

Gentle’s calm voice rang from behind him.

“I’m alright,” Arnold replied, steadying himself.

‘Hmm?’ Now that he thought about it, Gentle did not appear dizzy or swayed like him, did he?

Was it because each person’s constitution differed?

Before long, Arnold stood before the mansion gates.

“This is where we stay… Why are you standing so far away?”

Arnold tilted his head. This man had become stranger with each passing moment.

Gentle now stood at quite a distance, perhaps fifteen paces away from Arnold, remaining beneath the shadow of the tree canopy.

He only stood there, perfectly straight posture, his feet neatly aligned like a disciplined butler awaiting instruction.

“My apologies, Mister Arnold. I merely wished to know where she resides. But,” He cast a glance toward the mansion. “Observing this grand abode, I am now certain there is nothing to worry about.”

He placed a hand over his chest and smiled with serene satisfaction.

“That is most relieving.”

He bowed once more, then gestured toward the opposite direction of the forest path.

“Now, shall we?”

Arnold frowned. Something about this man felt… off.

Yet no concrete suspicion could be formed. After a brief glance at the mansion, Arnold nodded.

“Let’s go.”

—

After what felt like half an hour of walking in silence through the narrow gaps between the overgrown branches, Arnold could finally discern vague plumes of chimney smoke rising against the pale afternoon sky. The scent of burning wood drifted faintly on the wind, carrying with it the familiar mixture of soot and cooked grain.

The self-proclaimed traveler slowed his pace. He turned slightly, one gloved hand lifting with elegance as he pointed toward the open clearing ahead.

“The village is over there.”

Arnold followed the direction of his finger. Beyond the last cluster of trees, the rooftops of Winterin Village emerged. The distant sounds of chatter and a hammer striking wood drifted toward them.

“Thank you, sir.” Arnold exhaled, easing the tension that had coiled around his shoulders. He offered a respectful bow.

Gentle inclined his head in return. “Please have a good day, Mister Arnold.”

Arnold nodded, acknowledging the pleasantry, and continued walking in the direction the man had indicated.

He had taken only several strides when Gentle’s voice rang out again from behind him.

“Oh, one more thing.”

His pleasant tone caused Arnold to pause mid-step. He turned his head, brows knitting together as he looked back.

Gentle raised his hand once more, but this time, he pointed toward the opposite direction: Toward the mansion’s direction.

“Please do not wander around the forest again,” he said calmly. “There is nothing there.”

Arnold tilted his head in puzzlement.

Still, he bowed politely. “Thank you for the reminder, sir. Have a good day.”

Arnold turned and resumed walking down the dirt road without looking back.

‘What a weirdo,’ he thought, shaking his head lightly.

Once Arnold’s figure was out of his sight, the blond-haired traveler’s smile deepened. He buttoned his cuff again and walked toward the tree’s shadow.

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