Ashes Of Deep Sea

Chapter 330: Chapter 334 Alice’s Mansion

Chapter 330: Chapter 334 Alice’s Mansion

The new servant had arrived.

It was as if those words had activated some mechanism, and with a deep and muffled sound that reached his ears, countless vague silhouettes suddenly appeared out of the darkness before the worshiper of Corrosion—a faint light shimmered in the air, illuminating an exceptionally spacious and ancient yet elegant hall!

His eyes widened as he saw the hall, majestic as a palace, yet seemingly abandoned for decades. He saw a curved staircase spiraling upward at the end, connecting to upper corridors and platforms. Huge columns vaguely stood in the dim light, with exquisite drapes hanging from their tops, gently swaying in a breeze whose origin was unknown. Around the hall, the walls featured dark, hollow window openings—like the gaping maws of beasts, with no light outside and the windows themselves sealed securely with intersecting bars of iron. Indistinguishable large paintings hung between the windows, featuring only disturbingly vibrant patches of color without any discernible figures or landscapes.

The worshiper of Corrosion stared at the scene in astonishment, then suddenly realized that the bindings on his hands and feet had inexplicably vanished. He took a couple of steps forward, feeling his body return to his control, and instinctively called out to the demon that shared his soul.

However, only a hollow howl came from within his soul, the Profound Demon that had been with him for years as if it never existed, nothing responded to his call.

“Servant, forward, come to the end of the carpet.”

That deep, muffled voice resounded once again, this time directly in his mind.

“Who is it?!” The worshiper of Corrosion exclaimed, his eyes wide as he looked around the luxurious yet eerily empty mansion’s hall, yet saw no one.

He lifted his head and looked towards the end of the hall—a dark red carpet extended from beneath his feet towards the distance, ending at the staircase that arced upwards like a wing along its curve.

For some reason, as his gaze fixed on that spot, his legs began to move uncontrollably—as though obeying the voice he had just heard, he walked toward the end of the carpet, stopping a few meters before the staircase.

A figure abruptly appeared there.

It was a body dressed in a black suit—a body without a head.

The body stood erect in front of the staircase, the suit impeccable, with the corner of a folded handkerchief visible in its breast pocket and the golden chain of a pocket watch peeking out from another. One of its hands held a bronze bell, and the other extended forward—the posture like a butler welcoming newcomers, a trusted managing steward of the mansion.

But it had no head, on that neck in a black suit, just a bare and smooth neck, as if… the joint of a doll.

“This… What is this place?!”

“The new servant,” with a trembling voice, he couldn’t recall why he had come to this isolated mansion, nor his own name and origin. He only felt an innate fear, a strange eeriness slowly corroding his inner self as he looked at the headless butler, gathering the courage to ask. As he spoke, whispers and the sensation of being watched also emanated from all directions.

Shocked, he turned back and looked at the scene in the hall—

Figures dressed as servants and maids bustled about, clearly those who tended to the mansion. As they passed near the staircase, they momentarily stopped, as though curiously sizing up the newcomer.

A low murmur of discussion came from their chests—for these servants, all were headless.

Above their necks, only smooth spherical protrusions, like the connectors of a doll, exhibiting a texture somewhere between wood and ceramic.

“The new servant” watched in confusion as the bustling servants moved through the hall, momentarily bewildered.

Had there been so many people here before? Was the hall bustling when he had first arrived?

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“This is Alice’s Mansion, and you are its new servant,” the “butler” said in a dull voice, suddenly breaking the new servant’s trance, “Follow me, your next duty is upstairs.”

The new servant instinctively nodded and stepped behind the headless butler. Unconsciously, he lowered his head and noticed that he was wearing a servant’s uniform—just like the male servants in the hall.

His mind grew increasingly murky, more and more memories being extracted from his body as if they were “no longer needed,” impurities that hindered his duties as a servant in the mansion.

With each step up the staircase, he reduced his hesitation and doubt—in the beginning, he still faintly remembered that he did not belong here. Then, he only remembered being trapped in a strange mansion, and by the time he was a few steps from the second floor, he only remembered the butler’s instructions to him—

Stepping onto the last stair, he raised his head to look at the platform before him and the corridor inside it.

Several servants passed through the corridor, and though they had no eyesight, “the new servant” still felt their scrutinizing gaze.

“Why is everyone looking at me?”

“Because you are the first servant to arrive with a head,” the butler stopped, turned around, his voice seemingly carrying a laugh, “and besides, it has been many years since we had a newcomer here.”

“What am I to do?” the new servant asked cautiously.

“Serve our mistress, become part of this place, and you will naturally know what to do, but before that, you should go and greet the mistress…”

The butler slowly raised his arm, pointing towards a black door at the end of the hallway.

“Go, just push open that door, and pay your respects to the mistress.”

The new servant nodded, turning to walk towards that grand door.

His pace was steady, and his expression gradually calmed down; his limbs swayed until, little by little, they became as stiff and rigid as the other servants in the hall. He reached the door, extended his hands, his gaze tranquilly sweeping over his wrists that had turned into ball joints—he gently pushed the door open with a slight effort.

The doll took a step forward.

In the enormously elegant bedroom, a luxurious bed was placed at the center, surrounded by intricately patterned drapes and tasseled curtains. A silver-haired doll lay quietly on the bed, deeply asleep.

And beyond that bed, at the end of the bedroom where a wall should have been, there was only a vast open darkness—that seemed to lead to some distant, profound space. The floor, walls, and ceiling there appeared shattered and disjointed, the chaotic dark shadows and numerous distant twinkling lights undulated slowly, transforming into bizarre silhouettes of light and shadow that silently pulsated at the bedroom’s far end, whispering and hovering in the darkness.

That surging darkness and light points, resembling the bizarre dreamscape of the doll, seemed like an invisible force trying to invade Alice’s Mansion, blocked from reality by the doll’s deep slumber.

Now transformed into a doll, the new servant stood at the bedroom’s doorway, his gaze fixed dully on the beautiful doll sleeping soundly on the bed, as well as the undulating darkness behind it—then he bent down, bowing respectfully to the mistress.

Bright threads extended from his limbs, drifting in the air, then disappearing in an instant.

The new servant remained bowed, slowly retreating until he left the room, the door to sleeping Alice’s room slamming shut before him with a deep, authoritative boom.

But his face would never show any expression again.

The doll, still bent over, took a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wiped the ornaments near the door.

…

“Thump—”

“Crash—”

A sound of something heavy falling echoed at the mouth of the alley, as a cultist who had just attempted to flee suddenly fell from midair. He landed with a loud crash, his body shattering into pieces like porcelain, his clothes included.

The shattered porcelain pieces bore no trace of blood, as if he had been a fired doll from the start—flesh and blood, just an illusion of his life.

Alice was instantly startled, “Wow!”

A roaring gust of wind erupted behind her, Fenna had already charged to the alleyway mouth, staring dumbfounded at the scene before her for a long while before turning to look at the nearby doll, “Did you do this?”

“…I don’t know,” Alice blinked, slowly turning back, “Um… maybe?”

“What does maybe mean?!”

“It means I caught his thread and then pulled a little— he started it, I got a bit scared,” Alice continued disjointedly, gesturing as she spoke, her explanation only confusing Fenna more, “Understand?”

“…No,” Fenna shook her head, then looked back at a pile of charred debris deep in the alley, still emitting a faint black smoke, “Damn, the priest I dealt with didn’t speak until the end, your side just shattered, and we got no information at last.”

“Does that mean the Captain will be displeased?”

“No time to consider that now, we need to leave this area,” Fenna spoke quickly, “Too much noise, even if it’s not in the central city, the night watch must have noticed.”

As she spoke, she looked up towards a mansion not far away.