After they left the church, Arnold and Mary spent some more time wandering from place to place.
There wasn’t much to see. Not in the sense of scenery, at least. Winterin Village was undeniably poor and painfully backwater. Mud paths, wood-and-mud houses, and crude tools worn down from constant use.
“And this is the Madam’s estate!” Mary suddenly announced, snapping him out of his inner monologue.
Arnold’s steps paused.
‘This big?’
It wasn’t remotely comparable to Benjamin’s mansion, but compared to the rest of the village, this estate was enormous. Almost as large as the church’s territory.
They walked past overgrown shrubbery and wild grass, following a worn path that curved toward the edge of the village. Tree trunks lined the boundaries like natural walls, and tucked inside the landscape was a manor estate built in gray bricks, rising tall behind a long stretch of manicured land.
Finally, they approached a massive wrought-iron gate. Two guards flanked it.
Calling them guards was generous. They were just peasants dressed in cleaner rags than other villagers, a white cloth patched many times over. They carried crude spears in their hands.
As Arnold and Mary approached, the guards straightened and called out in a forced authoritative tone:
“What do you need here?”
They didn’t have the posture or discipline of trained soldiers. More like villagers pretending at it.
Before the guards could chase the pair away, Arnold took out two shillings and flicked one coin at each guard.
Both men froze midstep, and they widened their eyes. Even Mary gasped at the sight.
The guards blinked, quickly pocketed the coins, and stepped back into position without another word.
Of course, it was nothing new to him, since in Izzy’s past life, she also had to do that so people could allow her to investigate.
“W…wow…” Mary mumbled with admiration.
Arnold walked closer to the gate, studying the manor beyond. Although they couldn’t enter, the iron bars were spaced wide enough to give a clear view.
Inside was a bustling scene. Servants tended to flowerbeds, carrying shears and watering cans. Others hauled crates from carts toward the manor.
A few women were on their hands and knees, scrubbing the stone pathways. Several young men were chopping firewood. A pair of maids hung linens on a rope strung between two oak trees.
Smoke curled from the manor’s chimneys. It was certainly far better than the villagers’ huts.
“Baroness Amanda is the head of the village. She lives here in the manor and rarely goes outside. So hardly anyone can meet her.” Mary explained, puffing her chest proudly as if she owned the place.
‘So she’s basically a NEET.’ Arnold noted to himself.
They circled the estate’s bars when Arnold noticed a commotion near the front. Several rough-looking individuals were arguing loudly with the guards.
Mary’s grip suddenly tightened on his sleeve, and she led him into the nearby bushes to hide themselves.
“What is it?” he lowered his body and whispered.
“Those men, they’re a gang of thieves. They come to collect money from the village every week. But in return… they protect us.” Mary whispered back. “They’ll chase off other thieves, wolves, bears… even the mountain beast if it ever appears again.”
Arnold frowned. ‘Protect the village? Are they really thieves if they protect them in return?’
“Good Sir, you will understand after some time…” she shook her head. “Scratch that, if you meet them, you must run away. Since you’re not from here, they’ll rob you for sure, sir.”
‘Interesting.’
To be honest, Arnold had noticed them earlier. Their hungry gazes followed them each time they took a step. But since they weren't doing anything but following, he hadn't really cared.
With this new information, he now understood. They didn’t act because Mary was beside him.
“Why are they so abiding by the rule?” Arnold asked quietly. If they’re thieves, why listen to the village head?
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Mary pursed her lips in thought.
“I’m not so sure, sir. Some say Madam struck a deal with them. Some say they owe her a favor, or even fear her.” She shook her head. “Just one thing, these thieves would never touch our village!”
Curious, Arnold tugged at his coat a little.
A tiny gray head poked out from his inner pocket. It was a gray mouse.
Mary’s eyes lit up instantly.
The mouse twitched its whiskers, sniffed the air, and rushed out of his coat, darting through the grass toward the commotion.
“H…how cute!” Mary squeaked, hands clasped to her chest.
Arnold ignored her squealing and focused on the task at hand.
Through his mind, Izzy already slipped into the mouse’s consciousness, guiding its movements. At the same time, the bird perched high in the trees tilted its head, watching from above. It was also under Izzy’s control right now.
The vessel, Arnold’s eyes narrowing and slowly losing focus, as Izzy had put her attention into the little one.
Possession marks. Isa had discovered this by accident. Izzy guessed it was when they killed Benjamin and got stronger.
With Possession marks, they could suppress their possession mind, so these animals' original minds could still function. They would seize control over their bodies only when needed.
Of course, it still counted toward their maximum possession limit. Arnold, Jack, and Isa’s vessels were living bodies. She couldn't cut her connection to them, since their minds were already dead. If she did, their bodies would slump into a death state again.
The bird and the mouse were alive. Their minds were intact. Izzy could suppress her influence, or cut her connection and her mark cleanly without affecting them.
He watched the mouse scurry toward the band of thieves, its tiny body weaving through grass and shadow.
“What are you doing, sir? Why…”
Beside him. Mary knelt with her eyes sparkling.
Arnold ignored her starry-eyed and the buzzing noise beside him. He focused on the mouse’s perspective.
The little mouse poked its head out from the bush. Its tiny body froze as the scene before it came into view.
Through its beady eyes, five muscular men came into focus. They were broad-shouldered brutes wearing filthy rags, belts weighed down by knives and crude tools. They stood in front of the manor gate, shouting.
“Let us talk to Madam! It's almost the end of the week! Our portions are running low; we need them now!”
They yelled with an irritated voice, steeped in impatience and desperation.
Facing them, flanked by several nervous guards, stood a maid.
She wore a clean black dress with a crisp white apron, her brown hair tied neatly into a bun. Despite the aggressive men in front of her, she gave a neat curtsey and spoke with a composed tone.
“Forgive us, but your depleted stores are not within our purview. We implore you to return on the morrow of the weekend, as per our customary arrangement.” She bowed her head with calm deference.
“Hark! Provide us with our portion in advance! We shall not return to make a demand this very week! Deliver unto us the ‘medicine’!” the leader snarled at her.
“The agreement stands, sir,” she said evenly. “Madam does not favour broken engagements. Pray attend at the appointed hour.”
The leader of the band of thieves’ eyes contorted. With an animalistic growl, he drew his knife and lunged at her.
The guards jolted in fright; they were too slow to intervene.
Yet the maid did not flinch. She only calmly looked at him.
Simultaneously, something on the ground rippled. Around her feet, a dark red mucus subtly moved on the ground.
Before the leader of those thugs could fully reach her, the mucus shot out, latching to his heel. His body halted mid-motion, held firmly in place.
“No—!” His eyes bulged with disbelief and horror. “You… you are…!”
Without waiting for him to finish, the maid’s eyes glowed a cold violet.
In an instant, the entire group stiffened, their movements abruptly ceased.
They tilted their heads simultaneously, their shoulders slumped, and their gazes fixed upon her in a daze.
“We entreat you to return at a later hour, good sirs,” the maid said gently, bowing once more.
“Grrr… Yes,” the leader growled in a low voice. One by one, the five thugs turned their heels, stiff as wooden dolls, and walked away in perfect sync. Not a single glance back.
‘WHAT is that?!’
At the same time, a cold air breezed through Isidora's shared mind! It was different from Benjamin’s warmth; this cold air was cruder, more chilling, icy enough to freeze her spine.
Izzy’s mind raced in alarm. Just as she was about to react, an illusory eye opened high in the empty air before the mouse’s beady gaze.
It was an ethereal eye formed in the empty space. Its pupil began to turn furiously as soon as it materialized.
Before its pupil could locate the little mouse, Izzy severed her connection instantly!
In the same instant, Arnold seized Mary’s hand and bolted out of the bushes, sprinting away from the estate as fast as possible!
—
Inside the manor, deep within a lavish chamber, a thin figure lay upon an enormous canopy bed.
She was frail, skin as pale as a corpse’s. Her lips were cracked and dry, and her limbs were as thin as delicate twigs.
A long, white one-piece gown flowed loosely over her skeletal frame. Her long hair shimmered like pale starlight, and it spread across the pillow in tangled waves.
The woman stared at the ceiling with vacant, lifeless eyes. She did not blink even slightly and looked almost dead.
Only when the faintest wrinkle formed between her brows did something spark.
Her unfocused violet eyes fluttered weakly as a small light illuminated them. She slowly turned her head toward the window overlooking the estate grounds.
“...”
Her gaze remained fixed there for a long, long moment. Her fingers twitched weakly against the bed, as if she were drawing something on it.
“D…Deaf.”
On her forehead, a half crescent moon shimmered weakly.
Dead Fish Eyes" to describe it, but...I don't think anyone would understand them.
So many mysteries...My brain just keeps adding more things...I can't keep up with my own plots...xD.

