Märchen shook his head in disbelief when he heard that this castle that seemed to come out of a fairytale was labeled as a mansion. He cleared his throat and asked in curiosity. "Why is it called a 'mansion'? Why not a palace? Or a castle?"
Almost as if she had expected the question, the doll before him immediately replied, "It is indeed a mansion. It has the essential features: rooms for leisure and entertainment, spacious oversized rooms, a large field for gardening, additional supplementary rooms, and high-quality materials."
"However, it is important to note that this is not a residence for the royal, distinguishing it from a palace. Also, unlike a castle, there are many glass windows situated throughout the structure." Märchen, who didn't expect the doll to be responsive, was slightly taken aback by her quick and efficient response."
As an illiterate knight, he had a notion that a palace and a castle were giant structures that were built for the rich's preferences, with the former showing off their wealth and status while the latter was purely for protection.
This aligns with the doll's response but it was only on the intuitive level, not on the technical sense. Truth be told, he was quite oblivious to what makes a palace a palace and what makes a castle a castle.
As he mused himself, he noticed a wide, floor-to-ceiling window at the far end of the massive hallway with the pale blue mist penetrating its colors through it.
The distance stretched tremendously, as though walking toward a point at the horizon.
What a distance... Is this doll trying to exacerbate my leg even more? Märchen wondered if the doll had deliberately forced him to walk, denying his injured leg the rest it necessarily needed.
The reason? Maybe for entertainment. There are many people out there who take pleasure in seeing others in pain—a sadist.
As if sensing his thoughts, the doll enlightened him further with her soft, cold voice. "The journey may be tedious and irritating but do remember that you are in a very dangerous place—a place that is far from your current abilities and levels."
"Regarding your injured leg, it is not as fatal as you might think."
"Pardon?" Märchen raised his eyebrows in shock, momentarily pausing his movements for a bit. For a mutilated leg to be deemed as "not fatal" was the most absurd thing that he heard of.
The doll promptly elaborated. "You possess a remarkable vitality that surpasses that of an ordinary human, but it does require you to eat more often than usual. With this newfound resilience, even a harsh injury like a mutilated leg can be managed as a significant, yet not critical, injury, provided that you don't exert it too much. Likely, you are already aware of it as you have steered clear of the 'Balancing' process, gaining some knowledge from it."
Märchen arched an eyebrow, his confusion evident. "Balancing process? What's that?"
"It is not for you to know." The doll responded with an elusive answer.
Dogsh*t! Then don't directly state it like I already know the damn term! Märchen cursed inwardly, his eyelid twitching in irritation.
Seemingly oblivious or indifferent, the doll continued. "There is a place that you can go before the 'Bell' chimes. It will keep you safe from the dangers lurking in the mansions should you be inside it."
Märchen narrowed his eyelids as he stared at the doll's back, suspicion creeping in. He asked in a low tone, measured, "Why are you helping me? 'Pity' isn't the only reason there is to it, right?"
Looking ahead, the doll replied calmly, "If you are doubtful of my actions and intentions, you may halt in your pursuit."
Her statement left Märchen slightly frustrated. Despite the doll directly answering his questions, she also kept omitting the important details or even eluding from providing answers.
He decided to stay quiet and remained compliant, putting some of his trust in her half-heartedly.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Despite how grand the hallway was, it was filled with suspense and silence. Only the sound of their footsteps echoed through the expansive space.
After a while, they reached the end of the hall, which connected perpendicularly to a bifurcated hallway identical in size and width to the one they had traversed.
Another one… How many hallways do I need to travel? Sighing woefully, Märchen seemed to understand why the doll referred to time as gold.
The 20-meter floor-to-ceiling windows lining the side cast a faint blue glow from the pale mist outside, though it was dim compared to the warm radiance of the candelabras and the chandeliers.
Without pausing, the doll veered to the right hallway, and Märchen followed in silence, his pace slightly clumsy yet consistent.
At that moment, Märchen unconsciously stared at the misty grassy highlands through the windows, faintly casting his reflection on the surface of it.
It was as though the world had long been gone by an apocalypse, with only the two of them remaining in this world.
…
After a few minutes of shifting through multiple hallways adorned with rooms, doors, and paintings, the doll stopped midway and turned her gaze to the right, raising her arm towards it as she lifted her index finger.
"At the far end of this hallway, turn left and keep moving forward. When you reach a large double door, take the hallway facing it. There, you will find a large doorway through which you will go inside it." The doll enjoined Märchen in a straightforward manner, finally turning her head toward him, though her back remained facing his direction.
Unperturbed by the doll's frame, Märchen, using the sheath of his sword, approached the doll, turning his head to follow her line of sight.
It was another oversized hallway.
As he went before her, the doll added,
"Should any door catch your attention on the way, you must not respond to it completely."
She emphasizes the word "completely", as though forewarning him something unseen.
Märchen was initially puzzled by the doll's sparse yet brief instructions. But after a brief pause, he finally grasped the implication hidden in the doll's words.
It meant she was leaving him all on his own!
Wh– Raising his eyebrows, he turned his body halfway, only to find her vanished behind him.
First, the human-like entity. Now next, the doll? Is this some kind of trend? To disappear behind a stranger? Märchen held a long face as he sensed an inappreciable pattern in the behavior of the entities here.
Knitting his brows together, Märchen had no choice but to follow her instructions. He tried to guess what kind of purpose she had in her mind when she tried to escort him to survive, but he ultimately abandoned the thought.
It wasn't the fact that he lacked enough information to reinforce it but he just found it exhausting to think every single detail out. Even if he managed to piece together a logical conclusion about her purpose, he couldn't fully exploit it to cause loopholes for his adversaries—as he was far too weak and lacked powerful connections.
He cannot ignore the possibility that the doll's purpose might not be as exploitable as he could think of.
In short, it wasn't worth it.
As Märchen sauntered down the hall,
a slightly ajar door caught his eyes at the edge of his vision, with a painting portraying a cat rolling on a table above it.
Though curiosity tugged at him, he made no move to approach the door or peer through the narrow gap. Instead, he continued to press forward, the doll's words etched in his head.
Noticing that nothing abnormal occurred as he went to the left hallway, he sighed in relief. It seemed that simply reacting or acknowledging it didn't count as "responding to it completely."
Along the way, Märchen noticed that most of the doors, intervaled with various meters, seemed to vying for his attention and response. Some echoed with human voices in them, others tempted him with riches, women, and the familiar warmth of friends, while a few others stood open, revealing exquisite garments for his tattered attire.
Märchen was utterly bewildered that the doors, mostly rooms belonging to an occupant, suddenly stirred with unsettling activities. He wondered if the rooms before weren't for the occupants when he traveled with the doll. Doll…
Then, it struck him.
When he was with the doll, the doors were silent; no strange occurrences, no voices, nothing tried to get his attention. Maybe due to the doll's presence, the doors didn't bother to interrupt them.
As to why it didn't want to, perhaps the doll was a powerhouse that deterred them from doing so, or she might be one of the occupants of the mansion, convincing them that Märchen was a "visitor."
According to her, if he receives an invitation from a genuine occupant of the mansion, he can roam freely without a care of the dangers hidden here.
As he ruminated on the door's abnormality, and the significance of the doll, a faint bang reverberated in the distance.
Märchen, without shifting his sight, pinpointed the source. On the left side, against the cyan walls, there stood a door identical to others, slightly trembling from a mysterious force inside.
Bang! Bang! The door shuddered violently, as ominous screams roared out before it eerily stopped.