Chapter 197 - 196 : Mind’s eye
Seven days passed in the mansion as if time itself had grown lazy.
Morning came quietly, sunlight spilling over the estate’s tall windows and gilded frames. Outside, the world shifted from pale dawn to bright day—but inside, the giant house remained as still as ever, its silence broken only by the faint sounds of servants that did not exist, and the steady rhythm of one boy’s footsteps.
Inside a luxurious bedroom, Astarte stirred.
She let out a soft, unhurried yawn, the kind that came not from true tiredness but habit. The silk blanket slid down past her shoulder, revealing a sexy nightdress that clung to her curves, highlighting a body that looked both dangerous and impossibly alluring. The fabric traced her waist, her chest, and the smooth line of her hips, shimmering against her pale skin.
Her black horns framed her face like a crown, her deep purple hair spilling over the pillow and then cascading down her back as she pushed herself upright.
She turned her head.
Beside the bed, a black‑haired boy stood.
Arthur wore a perfectly pressed butler uniform—white shirt, black vest, dark trousers, polished shoes, and a tie knotted with precise care. His posture was straight, expression calm.
He bowed his head politely.
"My lady, I hope you had a good sleep," Arthur said.
Astarte glanced at him once.
And completely ignored him.
She rose from the bed without the slightest hint of embarrassment or concern over being watched, moving with casual, unbothered grace. Her nightdress shifted as she stood, the hem brushing her thighs.
"Is the bath ready?" Astarte asked, already walking toward the adjoining door.
"Of course," Arthur said. "As you instructed—a warm bath with rose petals has been prepared."
At that, Astarte didn’t bother to respond.
She opened the bathroom door, stepped inside, and closed it behind her with a dull thud.
Arthur exhaled quietly.
’Seven days as her ’caretaker’ and she still treats me like air,’ Arthur thought. ’Well. At least I’m not dead.’
Half an hour later, the door opened again.
Steam rolled out into the bedroom.
Astarte stepped out with a towel wrapped around her body, drops of water glistening on her skin. Her hair, now damp, clung slightly to her neck and shoulders, making her look even more dangerously attractive.
Arthur didn’t react outwardly.
He simply walked forward, holding neatly folded clothes in his arms.
"Your outfit," Arthur said politely, handing them to her. "I’ll wait outside in case you need anything else."
"There is no need for that," Astarte said.
Before Arthur could respond, she flicked her fingers.
The clothes in his hands vanished.
In the next instant, the same garments materialized around Astarte’s body—wrapping themselves over her seamlessly. A fitted black dress hugged her form, layered with elegant designs, paired with high boots and a cloak that draped from her shoulders. Jewelry appeared at her neck and wrists, catching the light.
Arthur nodded.
"Efficient as always, my lady," Arthur said.
He stepped to the side and gestured toward the door.
"Please come this way," Arthur continued. "I’ve prepared breakfast for you."
Astarte said nothing.
She walked out of the room, heading toward the dining hall, each step confident and silent.
Arthur followed a few paces behind.
As he walked, a familiar mechanical voice whispered inside his mind.
[ Host, should I do it? I’m itching to try out the new function I gained after leveling up. ]
Arthur’s eyes stayed forward, but his thoughts sharpened.
’Are you sure she won’t catch you?’ Arthur thought. ’Because if she does, we both die.’
[ Don’t worry, Host. Just believe in me. ]
Arthur hesitated for half a second.
Then he sighed inside his head.
’Alright,’ Arthur thought. ’Do it. Let’s see what else we can find.’
A notification flashed across his inner vision.
[ Mind’s Eye has been activated. ]
In the next second, a detailed status window materialized in front of his mental sight—transparent, visible only to him.
══════════════════════════════
[ STATUS ]
══════════════════════════════
Name : Astarte ??????
Race : Primordial Demon
Title : Demon Lord of Death
Authority : Death
Rank : ???
──────────────────────────────
[ TITLES ]
──────────────────────────────
• The End of All Things
• Queen of the Silent Grave
• She Who Guides the Final Breath
• Sovereign of Death
• The Black-Horned Requiem
• The Demon God’s Executioner
──────────────────────────────
[ CURRENT MOOD ]
──────────────────────────────
• Pleasant • Excited
──────────────────────────────
[ UNIQUE TRAITS ]
──────────────────────────────
• Death Incarnate
─ Death itself cannot claim her.
• Promise of the Demon Lord
─ Never breaks a contract she willingly makes.
To do so would disgrace her pride as a Demon Lord.
• Demon Lord’s Pride (Hidden)
─ Despises begging, cowardice, and broken convictions.
Respects those who stand by their words.
• Absolute Fear Immunity
─ Cannot be intimidated or mentally broken.
• Eternal Curiosity
─ Fascinated by beings capable of defying common sense.
• Severe Brother Complex (Hidden)
─ Displays unconscious favoritism whenever Aiden Nexaris is involved.
Loves her brother dearly.
• Endless Solitude (Hidden)
─ After countless millennia of existence, she has grown accustomed to solitude
and rarely drives away those she finds genuinely pleasant to keep around...
but breaks them once she’s done with them.
• Entertainment Seeker
─ Rarely kills those capable of genuinely amusing or intriguing her.
──────────────────────────────
[ KNOWN ABILITIES ]
──────────────────────────────
• Authority of Death
• Soul Erasure
• Death Domain
• Death Manifestation
• Instant Regeneration
• Spatial Manipulation
──────────────────────────────
[ REMARK ]
──────────────────────────────
"I dare you to cross her.
She won’t just kill you...
She’ll personally bury you six feet under."
══════════════════════════════
Astarte’s footsteps suddenly stopped.
Arthur stopped too, expression carefully neutral.
He swallowed down the spike of panic.
"Is there something wrong, my lady?" Arthur asked calmly.
Astarte looked over her shoulder.
Her pure black eyes scanned him.
She didn’t say anything.
After a brief pause, she turned away again and resumed walking.
Arthur’s heart resumed beating at a normal pace.
’Fucking system,’ Arthur thought. ’You almost gave me a heart attack.’
[ Relax, Host. You’re safe. She didn’t see anything. Besides, it looks like this new function can be very useful for us. ]
Arthur exhaled mentally.
’Well, you’re right,’ Arthur thought.
He glanced at the invisible window again and analyzed it carefully.
A smirk formed in his mind.
’That’s going to be a very useful ability,’ Arthur thought.
[ The only downside is that it costs 20 attribute points per use. ]
Arthur froze for a fraction.
’Why didn’t you tell me that before?’ Arthur thought.
[ Well, now you know. ^_^ ]
Arthur resisted the urge to curse out loud.
───────────────
Inside the dining hall, Astarte sat at the head of a long table.
The room was richly decorated—tapestries on the walls, chandeliers above, portraits in dark frames. But the only person at the table was her. The rest of the chairs remained empty, as they always had.
Arthur moved with smooth efficiency, placing plates and bowls before her.
Toast with butter and jam, roasted meat sliced thin, omelette seasoned with herbs, fruit cut into neat pieces, and a cup of fragrant tea releasing gentle steam.
"Your breakfast," Arthur said, stepping back.
Without wasting time, Astarte began to eat.
Her movements were precise, every cut of the knife and lift of the fork executed with flawless manners. Yet there was no hesitation—she ate steadily, like someone genuinely enjoying the food but refusing to show it openly.
Arthur had lived with her for several days now.
He could tell.
She liked his cooking.
She waited for it every morning.
Preferred his meals to conjured food or old, hellish rations she used to eat in other domains. She never said it. Not once. But the way she finished her plate, the way her mood seemed noticeably more "pleasant" afterward—it was enough.
After eating to her heart’s content, Astarte dabbed her lips with a napkin and set it down.
She looked at him.
"Alright," Astarte said. "You’ve impressed me, boy."
Arthur straightened instinctively.
"I have one task for you," Astarte continued. "If you can complete it... I’ll fulfill your wish."
Arthur’s ears practically perked up.
"My lady," Arthur said. "What are your orders?"
The world shifted.
───────────────
Arthur found himself standing at the mouth of a cavern.
Heat rolled out of it like breath.
He stood on jagged rock, the sky above tinted red from distant volcanic light. Inside the cavern, the faint glow of fire pulsed—like a heartbeat from something immense.
Dragon’s lair.
Astarte stood beside him, arms crossed, horns glinting faintly.
"You just have to go inside," Astarte said casually, "and steal an egg from the dragon within."
She smiled.
"Easy, right?" Astarte asked.
Arthur’s eye twitched.
He stared at the cavern, feeling the oppressive aura washing out from within—a monstrous presence, ancient and annoyed at anything that dared approach its home.
Astarte’s smile widened.
She was clearly enjoying this.
’Of course,’ Arthur thought dryly. ’Of course it’s a dragon.’
He inhaled slowly.
’Well... I did say I’d do anything,’ Arthur thought.
Behind him, the demon lord of death watched.
Curious.
Entertained.
Waiting to see whether her new "caretaker" was all talk—
Or whether he would walk into a dragon’s den with a smile, for a chance to move her heart.