Rohika Sedro has ten hunting dogs.

Those dogs, capable of doing anything for their master, operate so covertly that even the nobles of Tienda are unaware of their existence.

Instead, the few who know them dare to guarantee:

With three of the Tower Lord’s hunting dogs, even a fortress can be conquered. If you become the target of these dogs that walk in darkness without barking, ten layers of castle gates and a hundred guards are of no use.

They were nightmares without form, silently approaching reapers, and the darkest shadows of the Tower.

And Dies, a former hunting dog, was trying not to cry in front of the teacup fragment Ibi had presented.

“Don’t be too heartbroken. I’ll buy you a new one.”

Even Ibi’s careful consolation was of no use.

“This teacup must have been happy too. Let’s say goodbye without regret since it was loved fully.”

Even throwing in a slight joke didn’t help.

Dies seemed unable to believe this tragic situation.

A week ago, Ibi left her butler in Bis as she went up to Tienda to participate in the Wisteria Festival. It was to investigate the arena in the southeast of Bis where a snake was said to be hiding.

Thus, the two who shared a common fate parted briefly and met again exactly a week later in a small village in Bis.

Now sitting face to face in the cozy reception room of the two-story house that now belonged to Ibi, the two had much to talk about.

So the impatient Ibi briefly recounted what had happened above first.

That the saint was not the one who cursed Ibi, that an unexpected conflict arose due to Marquis Montra’s whim, that she met Duke Bayen separately, and that Ibi’s mansion had burned down.

Until then, Dies listened attentively with his usual calm face.

But the moment Ibi apologized for not being able to protect it and presented the fragments, his expression changed drastically. He turned pale and swallowed hard, then became the most depressed person in the world, endlessly staring at the broken teacup pieces.

When neither comfort nor jokes worked on the butler, Ibi pondered for a moment and then added casually.

“Why don’t you find another interest while you’re at it? The elder sisters will play with you well.”

At the mention of elder sisters, Dies flinched and raised his head. Then he stared at Ibi with eyes that seemed to ask how she could say such a cruel thing.

“It’s about time you got closer to them, isn’t it?”

“No, it’s not. Don’t jump to conclusions.”

Dies’ denial was firm, and so Ibi couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

In fact, Dies was afraid of Ibi’s elder sisters, that is, the maids of the mansion. It would be laughable for others to hear that a butler was afraid of maids, but Ibi could understand Dies’ feelings to some extent.

Two years ago, the atmosphere in Ibi’s mansion was very awkward. This was because people who didn’t know each other well suddenly came to live together overnight.

Rohika gave Ibi, who wanted to become a saint, a mansion owned by the Sedro family and sent dozens of voice slaves along with it. It was meant for both care and surveillance.

At this time, Ibi was secretly worried. She herself was in the same situation as those maids and was close to Dies, so there was no problem, but it wasn’t the same for both sides excluding Ibi.

There was a big gap between Dies, who had been the Tower Lord’s hunting dog, and the slaves who had been locked underground. So Ibi was concerned about whether they could get along well in their new roles as butler and maids.

But once they started living together, their relationship was established in an instant.

– Dog.

– Former hunting dog.

– Abandoned dog!

In the form of the maids bullying the butler, that is.

– Butler, I heard you helped Lana with shopping yesterday. Are you showing favoritism now?

– Butler, I made this thinking of you. It’s a bit much, but you have to eat it all without leaving any, okay?

– Butler, please wear these clothes. For unity, you should wear the same clothes as us… He’s running away, catch him!

To conclude, when the shackles were removed and they were put together, the slaves were stronger than expected and the hunting dog was unexpectedly weak.

So the maids, who had been cautiously approaching the butler out of curiosity and fear, realized he was easy prey and started swarming around him every day, endlessly playing with him.

They fed him, dressed him up, got jealous over every little thing, and wickedly enjoyed watching the butler break out in cold sweat.

Meanwhile, Dies became very troubled by the excessive attention and focus he was receiving for the first time in his life. He was used to acting covertly, and moreover, it was a time when he wasn’t good with words.

In the end, he started to quietly run away, feeling burdened by the maids, and the more he did so, the more actively the maids chased after him to catch the butler.

And Ibi, watching them from afar, thought: Ah, numbers really are the best after all.

Ibi nostalgically recalled Dies from those days when he was teased and flustered every day.

Back then, he was really a taciturn and gloomy puppy, but now he had grown into a capable butler who could handle both household and outside affairs smoothly. Although he still gets nervous when the elder sisters swarm around, that is.

Ibi nodded to herself, feeling the passage of time. Then, returning to reality, she concluded what she was saying.

“Anyway, the culprit behind this mess is the Marquis. So you can take your revenge on him.”

At Ibi’s mischievous encouragement, Dies fiddled with the teacup fragments and let out a deep sigh.

“The situation has become more difficult.”

“Aren’t you angry?”

“No particular reason to be.”

“Ah, you’re right after a breakup so you don’t have the energy to be angry. I understand. You’ll need time.”

“…As I’ve said repeatedly, I do not love the teacup. If you keep joking, it might start to seem real, so please refrain.”

Dies sighed again at Ibi’s continued teasing.

It was true that he cherished the teacups he had collected one by one with his own hands, but he had never thought of those inanimate objects as lovers, as Ibi and the maids falsely accused.

Moreover, despite his gloomy past as a hunting dog, he was quite a sensible person. So instead of secretly deciding to kill the Marquis who had destroyed his prized possessions, he quietly regretted that the things he had wanted to keep had been engulfed by flames.

This perfectly normal Dies carefully stored away the teacup fragment Ibi had brought. Then, recalling the story Ibi had told, he calmly commented.

“The Marquis’ matter is problematic, but not finding the culprit who cast the curse is also a big issue.”

“Hmm, that’s right. I thought the saint was the culprit.”

Ibi responded nonchalantly. But inwardly, she was feeling guilty.

Ibi hadn’t told Dies yet. That the culprit who cast the curse might be someone from a different time. Because to say this, she would have to start with the complicated story that Count Laurel and the astrologer might be the same person.

Although Ibi usually chatters about every little thing to Dies, for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to mention this.

So while Ibi was feigning ignorance, Dies continued speaking.

“Moreover, I wonder if we can trust the Count’s claims without doubt. Although he doesn’t seem like he would lie given his pride, he’s still opposed to you becoming a saint.”

“That’s true.”

Ibi nodded obediently, trying to hide that she was lost in thought. But her sharp butler noticed something was off from this behavior.

Dies stared at the unusually compliant Ibi for a moment.

If it were the Ibi from a few days ago, she would have been more upset and exclaimed, ‘Right, it’s suspicious, we can’t just trust that person’s words!’

But Ibi, who had returned from the festival with the Count, somehow didn’t growl at the Count as much. Normally, she would have ranted about the Count’s arrogance and stubbornness as soon as she got back.

“Was the Count cooperative in Tienda?”

“It wasn’t too bad. Why?”

“You seem to trust the Count quite a bit.”

At Dies’ doubt, Ibi waved her hands as if it was absurd.

She intended to brush it off like that, but Dies, who had watched Ibi closely for the past two years, wasn’t fooled. Far from being fooled, he asked again with a strange intuition.

“Is there something you’re hiding from me?”

“Yes, there’s a story I don’t want to tell so I’m keeping it tightly hidden. …I really can’t get used to this curse.”

After helplessly confessing her true feelings to the butler’s question, Ibi complained with cloudy eyes as if she wasn’t even angry anymore. Then she hurriedly made excuses to Dies who was staring at her intently.

“Don’t misunderstand. It’s just a complicated story that I haven’t sorted out yet. I’ll tell you when I’ve organized it a bit.”

“Organize?”

But this excuse didn’t work on the butler either.

Organize? Since when have you ever organized things before telling me?

Dies recalled the usual Ibi who would follow him around chattering about anything and everything.

Now suddenly talking about organizing.

Dies observed Ibi’s unusual attitude and silently crossed his arms. Then he asked in a lowered voice.

“Did something happen with the Count?”

“A lot happened. We drank together, he hugged me, I pretended to sleep and borrowed the bed for a few hours.”

Ibi cheerfully listed her shameful behavior in response to the butler’s question. Then she clicked her tongue.

At this point, Ibi was only a little embarrassed but still confident. The expression was quite strange, but it wasn’t wrong and she hadn’t done anything bad. So she thought it was fine.

However, unlike the carefree Ibi, Dies’ expression changed as he heard Ibi’s words.

The obedient butler was now narrowing his eyes and staring silently at Ibi.

“What, why?”

As Dies’ demeanor changed, Ibi flinched reflexively and then snapped back.

Even in his taciturn and gloomy puppy days, and now as a capable butler, Dies was always calm.

But sometimes, very rarely, he would become scary like this. It was when Ibi deserved to be scolded without any room for excuse.

But Ibi thought she had no reason to be scolded, so she pretended not to be scared and looked at Dies defiantly.

Dies, with his arms crossed, observed Ibi for a while. Then he asked in a voice even heavier than usual.

“Is that what you’re hiding from me?”

“No, there’s something else I’m hiding. Wait, I said I’ll tell you when it’s organized, didn’t I?”

“What needs organizing? Is it related to the Count too?”

“That’s right. It’s about him. Ah, stop asking!”

“What on earth did you…”

“Ugh!”

Despite Ibi’s resistance and refusal, Dies continued to press her.

So Ibi, cornered, suddenly overturned the single-seater sofa Dies was sitting on, butler and all.

With a crash! It was such an unexpected attack that even the great hunting dog was helplessly toppled over.

“Ugh, you…”

Dies was dumbfounded as he tried to get up, then shouted at Ibi who was already fleeing the scene.

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere! I’m just running away!”

Ibi answered like that and then cringed at her own blatant statement. Then she left, abandoning the butler she had knocked over.

Left behind, Dies sat on the floor, blankly staring at Ibi’s retreating figure.

It was a first. For Ibi, who desperately pretends to be strong in any situation, to flounder so obviously.

Dies mulled over Ibi’s words in this ominous atmosphere.

Something must have happened with the Count up there.

At this unpleasant certainty, his eyes sank coldly.