Jason's breath caught as he found himself not on the stone floor, but seated on a velvet couch in the library, his wrists and ankles bound by fine, silken cords. The transition had been instantaneous—he hadn't even felt the movement. He blinked, adjusting to this new, disorienting reality, his mind racing as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened.
Before him, the maid stood with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, her pink hair framing a face that now seemed more composed, more distant. Her expression held a strange pride, an air of superiority mixed with an unsettling calm. In the soft glow of the library's flickering lanterns, she seemed almost angelic—an image of purity and grace, and yet… utterly indifferent. Her piercing blue eyes looked down at him, as if he were a curious specimen under her examination.
"Do you feel like harming anyone?" she asked, her voice smooth but edged with a cold, clinical tone. She didn't sound genuinely curious. Rather, it was as if she already knew the answer, but wanted to hear him acknowledge it, to see if he'd lie.
Jason frowned, his confusion rising to meet his indignation. He was shackled and scrutinized by this girl who seemed hardly older than he was—if not younger—and she had the audacity to ask him about *his* intentions? But something about her gaze made him hesitant to challenge her. Swallowing his pride, he replied cautiously, "No?"
The maid's lips curved ever so slightly, a barely perceptible smirk of amusement. She tilted her head, allowing a soft strand of pink hair to fall over her shoulder as she surveyed him with what could only be called… satisfaction.
"Hmm," she murmured thoughtfully. "And how are you feeling right now, little guy?"
Jason's eyes widened, his brow furrowing in bewilderment and irritation. *Little guy?* He was Jason Blood—the youngest mafia boss anyone had ever known, a man respected, feared, and never condescended to. And yet here he was, being talked down to by a childlike maid in a medieval library. "What do you mean, *little guy*?" he shot back, his tone laced with confusion and barely contained frustration.
Her smirk deepened, a glimmer of satisfaction dancing in her eyes. She leaned forward slightly, her gaze narrowing as she dropped her next words like ice-cold steel. "Answer the damn question, dumbass."
The contempt in her voice took him by surprise, slicing through his shock. For a moment, he could only stare at her, completely taken aback by her audacity. But the weight of her gaze pressed down on him, and he felt his defiance waver. He forced himself to reply, though his voice came out tight. "I'm… I'm doing alright, I guess."
She stood up straighter, her expression growing even more aloof, as if his answer had been exactly what she'd expected. For a brief moment, Jason thought he detected a faint glimmer of approval in her gaze, as though he'd passed some unspoken test.
"Do you have any questions?" she asked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth, as if she were indulging him.
Jason's frustration surged, but he tried to maintain his composure. His mind whirled with questions, each one more urgent than the last, but he forced himself to narrow it down. "Three questions," he said, his voice steady but laced with an edge. "First—where the hell am I? Second, who are you? And third…" He met her gaze, his jaw tightening as he leaned forward, as much as his bindings allowed. "How did you paralyze me?"
The girl's gaze softened, but there was something calculating in her eyes. She lifted her chin with a kind of regal pride, as if his questions were but trifling matters beneath her station. A faint, knowing smile curled on her lips, one that spoke of secrets and power far beyond his comprehension.
"You'll get your answers," she murmured, her voice as smooth as silk and as cold as stone. "In time."
A voice broke through the heavy silence, rich and authoritative, filling the vast, dimly lit library with a presence as commanding as it was calming. "Knowledge, I think that's enough of scaring our guest, don't you?"
Jason's eyes snapped up to see the speaker—a tall, elegantly dressed man who appeared to be in his thirties, his form draped in noble medieval attire of deep purple, embroidered with intricate gold patterns along the cuffs and collar. His gaze was intense, his expression neither harsh nor soft, but simply *knowing*. What caught Jason's attention most, though, were the man's eyes—one a piercing red, the other an icy blue. They seemed to hold the weight of countless secrets, as if he could see into the depths of a person's soul with a single glance.
The maid—Knowledge, he realized—looked up at the man, her rigid posture instantly softening. Her earlier defiance melted away, and her gaze dropped as though in reverence or apology. She clasped her hands together, her shoulders shrinking slightly, a far cry from the haughty girl who had spoken to Jason only moments before. "But… Redeem," she murmured, a hint of pleading in her voice, her eyes flickering between Jason and the man, "he broke the door to the guest room."
She looked almost like a child seeking validation, her voice losing its earlier edge as if she wanted the man, Redeem, to understand why she had been so harsh. Her head bowed slightly, her cheeks flushed a pale pink that matched her hair, and she glanced at him as if silently asking for his approval.
Redeem's mouth softened, a faint, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but his gaze remained steady and composed. He folded his arms across his chest, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her, a slight amusement sparking in his heterochromatic eyes.
"I know, Knowledge," he replied, his tone patient but firm, carrying an undeniable authority. "But our guest has been through… quite a bit already." His gaze flicked toward Jason, holding it there for a heartbeat longer than seemed comfortable, as though assessing him. "We wouldn't want to add any further strain."
Knowledge's gaze fell, her lips pressed together, her earlier pride fully diminished. She nodded obediently, though the barest trace of reluctance remained in her eyes.
Knowledge moved forward, her expression subdued, and with a graceful wave of her hand, Jason felt an invisible weight lift from his limbs. The sensation was strange, like water draining from his veins, leaving him light and mobile once more. Tentatively, he stretched his fingers, then his arms, the stiffness melting away as he regained control. But before he could fully savor his freedom, Knowledge leaned close to him, her breath cool against his ear.
"You are only free this time," she whispered, her voice laced with a soft warning. There was a faint edge of amusement in her tone, as if she enjoyed watching him wrestle with uncertainty, but also a quiet obedience to her master's command. Jason's eyes flicked to her, catching a glimpse of something cryptic in her expression before she straightened, resuming her demure posture.
Redeem's gaze remained on them, his mismatched eyes glinting with restrained mirth. "I heard what you said, Knowledge," he spoke, a hint of amusement in his voice as he addressed his maid. "Now, let's treat our guest with some proper hospitality. Get him a nice, warm bath, please."
Knowledge nodded, dipping her head in a submissive gesture. "Yes, Master," she replied softly, her voice full of deference. She turned toward Jason, all traces of her previous boldness replaced by an almost dutiful demeanor.
"Come with me," she murmured, her eyes lowered as she gestured toward a side door leading out of the library. She walked with a quiet grace, her footsteps barely audible on the stone floor, guiding him through the darkened corridors without so much as a glance back.
Jason followed Knowledge through the dim, twisting corridors, his footsteps echoing softly off the cold stone walls. The air was thick and damp, carrying the faint scent of old books and something metallic that he couldn't quite place. He kept a wary eye on Knowledge as she walked just ahead, her steps graceful, her head slightly bowed in that obedient posture she had adopted in Redeem's presence. Yet there was something simmering just beneath the surface—a dark intent lurking in her otherwise placid demeanor.
They turned a corner, and suddenly Jason felt a flicker of movement. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glint—a sharp blade that flashed briefly in the dull torchlight. Before he could react, the blade had vanished, and he felt a strange warmth ripple across his skin, as if something invisible had just absorbed the attack. He blinked, confused, but Knowledge didn't even glance back, continuing down the corridor with a serene expression.
A few steps later, she struck again. Her hand lifted in a subtle movement, her slender fingers curling as if shaping a claw, and Jason felt a force sweep toward his throat, cold and biting. But the moment it reached him, it dissipated into nothing, as though an unseen barrier had swallowed it whole. His skin tingled with residual energy, but he remained unharmed. Knowledge's face betrayed nothing—no frustration, no acknowledgment of her failed attempt. She simply kept walking, her pace even, her eyes focused forward.
Jason's heart began to beat faster as he realized that this wasn't a one-time attack. She was trying to kill him, repeatedly and methodically, yet each attempt was thwarted, the attacks vanishing as quickly as they appeared. *Protection,* he thought, recalling Redeem's words. *Redeem must have placed some sort of ward on me.*
But Knowledge was undeterred.
As they passed under a low archway, she made a subtle movement with her left hand, and Jason felt a pressure building around his chest, as though invisible chains were trying to crush his ribs. He staggered, gritting his teeth, but just as quickly as it had begun, the pressure released, dissolving like mist. Knowledge didn't look back, her face as calm as ever, her eyes fixed ahead.
She attacked again and again. Each time, the assault was swift, silent, almost invisible. One moment, Jason would feel the cold prick of a blade near his spine; the next, it was gone. A sudden weight would drop on his shoulders, pressing down as if to break him, but it, too, would vanish before he could even gasp. A strange pulse, like the shockwave of an explosion, would roll toward him from her outstretched fingers, only to fade to nothingness inches from his skin.
After what felt like the hundredth attempt, Jason's chest was heaving, both with tension and frustration. He knew she was bound by Redeem's command to bring him to the bathing room, yet she was testing every possible way to bypass it. She was relentless, her attacks relentless, as though some dark part of her needed to rid herself of him even if it meant going against her master's orders.
They reached a stairway descending to a darker level of the castle, the stone steps slick with moss. As they descended, Jason felt a rush of energy behind him, something sharp and deadly aimed at the back of his skull. He stumbled, half-expecting the blow to land this time, but it was absorbed again, the air around him rippling as Redeem's protective spell held firm.
But Knowledge's face remained serene, unbothered, as if she were merely escorting him through a formal tour of the estate. The way she moved, with such poise and detachment, only heightened the unease in his chest. Her attacks became subtler yet more sinister—poisonous whispers that slithered toward his ears, claws of dark energy that sought to pierce his heart, phantom hands that tried to choke the life from his throat.
Finally, they reached the end of a long, torch-lit corridor that culminated in a heavy wooden door. Jason could see steam curling up from beneath it, the faint scent of herbs and warm water wafting into the hallway. Knowledge paused at the door, and for a brief, tense moment, she glanced back at him, her eyes gleaming with a barely concealed hatred. Her lips twitched as though holding back a curse.
With a forced, placid smile, she opened the door, gesturing for him to enter the bathing room. "After you, sir," she said, her tone polite but dripping with resentment.
As Jason stepped forward, he caught a flicker of movement in her hand, the barest twitch of her fingers. He braced himself, expecting another silent attack, but Redeem's protection held steady. Knowledge's eyes narrowed in subtle defeat as she lowered her hand, watching him with a mixture of frustration and grudging respect. The relentless attempts had failed, and she knew it.