Chapter 776

The interior of the mansion was even more outrageous than the outside. The sculptures I saw earlier seemed somewhat restrained in comparison.

“Is this a human’s mansion or a beast’s den?”

Everything in sight was filled with beastmen. It made me suspect that Freide might actually be a beastman fetishist who loves beastmen to a suspicious degree.

The sofa, of course, and even the curtains were made of beastman hide with the fur still intact. The tables, wardrobes, shelves, and pillars were all adorned with beastman-shaped decorations or carvings without a single exception.

The corridor, with torches hung at regular intervals, was lined with various taxidermied beastmen casting shadows, creating an atmosphere of terror.

They looked so vivid, as if they might leap out and claw at you at any moment.

Every time the torchlight flickered, the shadows swayed, creating an illusion that the taxidermied figures were actually alive.

“…Only a psychopath or a serial killer would live in a place like this.”

[That would be you.]

Hersela blurted out nonsense.

…Wait, was it nonsense?

Thinking about it, I might actually fit the description of a psychopath serial killer…

Having another personality in my head aligns with the dictionary definition of a psychopath, and while they were all deserving of death, the number of people I’ve killed could form a mountain, so I can’t exactly deny being a serial killer…

Well, whatever.

Isn’t someone like me just a normal personality in this world?

This world is overflowing with bizarre lunatics, so a mentally disturbed human butcher isn’t particularly special.

Right?

—

The corridor wasn’t just filled with taxidermied beastmen. Between the taxidermied figures, the empty walls were adorned with vividly colored paintings.

There were some normal landscapes and still lifes, but most of them depicted something resembling me.

A city engulfed in flames, tearing apart beastmen in the middle of it.

Running through a forest, fleeing from a landslide.

Climbing up Pailoon’s city walls like a spider.

Holding a beastman’s head in my hand, using it to bite other beastmen.

Laughing maniacally while tearing apart various beastmen on the battlefield.

Grabbing Ryu-rik by the collar, stripping off his fur with red tentacles and a longsword, smiling like a woman with a torn mouth.

It seemed like Freide had faithfully recorded my exploits. Except for the fact that I was depicted like a demon from a religious painting.

“Did you see me like this…?”

Am I a human or a monster?

The beastmen, who were clearly invaders, were portrayed as pitiful victims swept up in a disaster.

“Well… I can’t say no. If the Beastman Devourer has a human conscience.”

“My conscience is telling me to punch your head.”

“Your Imperial language skills are lacking. That’s not a conscience, it’s malice.”

Looking at Freide’s smug grin, I felt the urge not just to bury her in the snow but to dunk her in the depths of the Frozen Lake.

—

The building, which someone—probably Freide—had named the “Wolf Mansion,” was a three-story structure that narrowed as it went up.

The first floor had a warehouse, bathroom, servants’ quarters, and a kitchen.

The second floor was for guest rooms, I guess?

The topmost third floor was entirely dedicated to me, with a small study that could double as an office and reception room, and a bedroom with a simple bathroom attached.

“This place is at least somewhat normal.”

Damien, looking around the reception room, nodded slightly and muttered.

“Right.”

Compared to the bizarre first floor, this space seemed relatively normal.

Though it was still filled with beastman hide, the number of wall hangings and taxidermied figures had significantly decreased, likely for the sake of livability.

Even the paintings here were different from the ones downstairs, with only one normal portrait.

“Looks just like you, sis!”

Rana pointed at the portrait with a grin.

She had been holding back her words in front of the downstairs paintings, just staring at Freide, but seeing a normal portrait seemed to have lifted her spirits.

“Uh… really?”

To me, even these portraits felt off.

‘Who is this woman?’

I muttered in disbelief at the portrait that seemed to have beautified my face a hundred times over.

The neatly combed hair was as smooth as ebony, and the blue eyes resembled a clear lake.

The gently smiling eyes exuded intelligence, warmth, and something akin to maternal love, while the slightly raised corners of the mouth blended noble elegance with youthful freshness.

The fur scarf and coat covering the neck and shoulders gave off a wild yet refined vibe, and the protruding chest looked like it could feed ten children and still have leftovers.

Even a divine aura was glowing behind the head.

This didn’t look like me at all. It felt like the artist had painted the most idealized image of a saint or holy mother and just colored the hair black.

[Don’t you recognize it? It’s me.]

As I stood dumbfounded by the overly beautified portrait, Hersela started barking nonsense.

[Hoho. That Freide, her tastes might be questionable, but she’s got a sharp eye. She perfectly captured the essence of my form trapped within you.]

‘Where did you sell your conscience?’

You’re talking crazy. Where did you get that nonsense?

If this is your face, then Isabella isn’t a witch but a holy mother.

“Hmm… wouldn’t the downstairs paintings be closer to Hasal’s actual appearance?”

“Damien, you think so too?”

As usual, Damien’s comment earned him a nod and a laugh from Freide, who seemed to agree.

“It was a gift from Archbishop Elmain, so I had to hang it, but isn’t the beautification a bit excessive? That woman must have some issues with her eyes.”

…So it was a painting sent by Lacey.

The name instantly explained why this portrait, unlike the others, was so heavily beautified.

—

Leaving Damien in the reception room with a warning not to intrude into a woman’s bedroom, the three of us opened the door to the bedroom and went inside to look around.

True to Freide’s style, the bedroom was equally extraordinary.

The taxidermied Ryu-rik in one corner wasn’t surprising. I had already guessed it would be here since his figure was missing from the taxidermy garden on the first floor.

“Using such precious hide for something like this…”

I sighed as I stroked Ryu-rik’s fur. His expression was as ferocious as in life. Even the armor he wore was faithfully recreated.

Using the hide of a beastman king, which is now impossible to obtain, for a prank like this… Should I admire her boldness or call her insane?

“This isn’t just a decoration. Unlike the ordinary taxidermy downstairs, this has a practical use.”

Freide confidently smiled as she approached the taxidermied figure and opened the chest plate.

The inside of the chest was hollow, like a bowl, with wax and a wick filling it like a candle.

“Light this up…”

Freide took out a match, lit the wick, and closed the chest plate.

Immediately, a fragrant scent of incense and wax filled the air, and a crimson glow seeped out from Ryu-rik’s gaping mouth.

The ruby-like eyes also flickered with light, and the glow from the fur dyed the white hide crimson, illuminating the entire bedroom like a mood lamp in a luxury hotel.

Though, given the shape of the light source, it felt more horrifying than romantic.

The taxidermied Ryu-rik, glowing crimson and casting flickering shadows, looked like a monster with a wolf’s head spewing fire.

“How is it? Cool, right?”

“Uh……”

I’d rather she showed off a glow-in-the-dark dinosaur; at least that would be cute. But boasting about a 3-meter-tall monster lamp left me at a loss for words.

You sleep in a room with this?

I’d have nightmares every single day of the year.

“……”

Rana also looked back and forth between my face and the flaming Ryu-rik, her expression asking if this was for real.

…I’ll move this to a corner of the reception room later.

—

Aside from the utterly absurd Ryu-rik taxidermy, the bedroom itself wasn’t much different from my room back at the academy.

A large fur-covered bed in the middle of the wall, with a small bed for Rana beside it.

However, there was one key difference from the academy…

“Wait, what’s that?”

I looked at Freide with a “are you insane?” expression, pointing at the objects neatly placed on the bed.

Thick black iron chains, wrist cuffs, and ankle shackles. They looked like something that belonged in a dungeon, not a bedroom.

If they were thinner, I might have thought they were for someone with a kinky taste, but these looked like military-grade restraints for beastmen.

“You said you wanted to sleep with Rana like sisters, but you were worried you might hurt her in your sleep, right? So I prepared these.”

Freide chuckled as she answered.

…So, you’re saying I should sleep with cuffs and shackles on?

Are you crazy?

I could only laugh bitterly.