After leaving Fafnir under Irene's care, Jeanne stepped inside the heavy, fortress-like structure alongside the old master. As they walked, she stole discreet glances at the old man's face.
His expression was surprisingly stern—almost as though even he had to maintain a high level of vigilance after entering this facility. Jeanne observed him closely, her mind racing as she tried to deduce what secrets were being kept within these walls.
Looking at the interior, Jeanne had to admit that this place was indeed an exceptionally sturdy stronghold. If an outside force wanted to breach this fortress, breaking through would undoubtedly require immense effort and firepower.
"I didn't expect to find such a solid fortress out here in the wilderness," Jeanne remarked, running her eyes along the reinforced stone walls as she initiated conversation with the quiet old man.
"Haha, this region is fraught with danger, after all," the old man replied, looking back at her with a gentle smile. "If sea monsters were to swarm us, ordinary folk like us wouldn't stand a chance. With a fortress like this, even if we can't be sure how long it will hold, it offers a bit of comfort, doesn't it? Besides, these thick walls have helped us escape disaster several times already."
Under the dim light, the smile on his face looked eerily unnatural, sending a slight chill down her spine. The old man's warmth felt deeply fake.
"Can a building like this truly keep those sea monsters at bay?" Jeanne asked, her tone laced with skepticism. "I've encountered those creatures firsthand. Their terrifying destructive power doesn't seem like something a simple building can hold off."
While this fortress could certainly be called sturdy, that didn't mean it was truly safe. On the contrary, to the mutated coastal beasts, structures like these were nothing more than iron cans. They could easily tear them open, leaving the defenseless prey inside with nowhere to run.
"Ah, but when there is so much easy prey roaming outside, creatures like us—hidden away inside a thick shell—aren't their primary targets, are we?" the old man replied in an unhurried, composed manner. "So long as we are harder to swallow than the folk in the open fields, we remain safe in the short term."
His words sounded cold, yet logically, his reasoning was sound. In a crisis, looking out for oneself was basic human nature, and he wasn't openly harming anyone.
However, his words also revealed the dark reason why he took in fleeing villagers. So long as the beasts knew a feast was gathered in this area, the wandering refugees effectively acted as a buffer—a meat shield paid as protection money to keep the fortress safe.
Yet, when Jeanne mentioned the word "sea monsters," something subtle occurred. In the dim shadows where Jeanne wasn't looking, the old man's pupils contracted sharply for a fraction of a second. But he hid his reaction with practiced ease, and with his back turned to Jeanne, she didn't catch the fleeting slip.
"Still, why haven't you moved to a mobile city?" Jeanne asked, continuing to probe as they walked down the endless corridor. "With your wealth, securing a comfortable residence inside a city should be simple. Furthermore, mobile cities offer far better defensive capabilities and protection than an isolated estate out here, don't they?"
"It comes down to a deep reluctance to leave this land," the old man sighed with a weary, rambling tone. "Besides, most of my household consists of Aegir. Moving into a city would only expose us to constant hostility and endless harassment from the judges... Ah, my apologies! I didn't mean to speak ill of the Inquisition, it's just..."
He continued rambling on, and Jeanne gave a slow nod, feigning understanding.
At long last, the pair reached the end of the long corridor. Standing before them was a pair of massive, heavy doors—the kind that looked as though it would take several full-grown men pushing together to force open.
"We've arrived. It's right through here!" The old man turned to Jeanne with a polite smile.
Just as Jeanne was waiting for him to call for servants to push the heavy doors open, the old man reached out and pressed an electric button on the wall. With a low, mechanical hum, the massive doors slowly slid open on heavy iron tracks.
It was an automated, motorized gate! Jeanne stared in brief astonishment. Who would have guessed that an ancient-looking castle would be fitted with modern electronic mechanisms?
"Surprising, isn't it?" The old man chuckled, noticing Jeanne's momentary shock. "Most people who come here are stunned. They never expect an ancient fortress to house modern electrical systems. But I suppose it adds a bit of clever surprise, doesn't it? I had these classic-style doors custom-fitted specifically for that subtle misdirection..."
Leading Jeanne into the hall beyond, they found a large group of villagers huddled around several small campfires. Hearing footsteps, the refugees turned their heads, their eyes landing squarely on Jeanne.
"All the villagers I've taken in are gathered right here," the old man said with a warm, accommodating smile. "Please, feel free to ask them whatever you wish. If any of them dare to cause trouble, I'll have my men put them in line immediately."
Jeanne nodded and walked toward the crowd. As she drew closer and her eyes swept across their faces, her brow furrowed—these were the very same villagers she had rescued earlier! It turned out they had chosen not to return to the mobile city after all.
The villagers recognized Jeanne instantly, but the expressions on their faces were deeply complex. Some harbored malicious delight, while others sneered with thinly veiled contempt. To them, this woman was nothing more than a lapdog of the Inquisition who had ended up stranded out in the wilds just like them, surviving only because a wealthy benefactor took her in.
Not a single person in the crowd showed a shred of warmth or gratitude. They held zero appreciation for the fact that she had saved their lives, viewing her past actions as nothing more than the dutiful work of an Inquisition hound.
Yet, remembering the terrifying martial force Jeanne had displayed against the monsters, none of them dared to shout insults aloud. They simply stared at her in bitter silence, hoping their glaring eyes would drive this unwelcome woman away.
Jeanne let out a quiet, tired sigh. Sitting down on a low wooden stump, she picked up a thick piece of firewood, idly turning it in her hands. Since they were already acquainted, there was no need for empty pleasantries.
"Since we've already met, I won't waste time with small talk," Jeanne said, her voice dropping into a firm tone that brooked no argument. "Tell me: how did you end up in this place?"
Her sharp, penetrating gaze swept across the crowd, striking a chord of fear in the villagers. Many instinctively lowered their heads, ducking away from her eyes.
"W-Why should we tell you anything?!" a brave villager blurted out, trying to puff his chest up against her. "We aren't your servants! You're just someone who got kicked out, what right do you have to demand answers from..."
Crack!
"Keep your mouth shut!" Jeanne's voice cut through the air like a crack of thunder.
With a slight squeeze of her fingers, the thick block of firewood in her hand exploded into splinters, sending wood shavings flying across the floor. The villagers recoiled like terrified quail, instantly choking back their words.
Trembling under her cold glare, the refugees stared at her in utter terror, horrified that they might end up smashed to pieces like that block of wood. Dropping their defiance, they began frantically recounting their experience.
"So, after I left, you wandered aimlessly through the wilderness, met a complete stranger, and blindly followed him straight to this estate without asking a single question?"
Jeanne looked at them, feeling a mixture of sharp irritation and disbelief. These people refused to trust the judges who risked their lives to protect them, yet they blindly put their faith in a total stranger?
Her expression turned dark as a deep sense of wrongness settled in her chest. These villagers were naturally suspicious of everyone, so why had they surrendered themselves to this place without the slightest hesitation or doubt?
Click!
Before she could dwell on the thought, the bright overhead lights suddenly cut out, plunging the massive hall into darkness save for the dim flickers of the campfires.
"What's going on?" Jeanne snapped to her feet, scanning the darkness.
Just then, a heavy thud echoed across the hall as a group of people rushed through the main entrance, slamming the thick automated doors shut behind them.
"A swarm of coastal beasts is attacking the estate exterior!" Irene called out, leading Fafnir through the dark to Jeanne's side. "We pulled back inside to fall back on this secondary position!"
The moment the villagers caught sight of Irene's Inquisition coat in the firelight, terror washed over their faces once more.