Welcome to the Demon’s Cabin - Chapter 25

Irene, feeling no sense of crisis whatsoever other than the fact that Idris’s mood had soured again, encouraged him with a bright, carefree voice.

“It will be fine. Let us look around a bit more first. There are many books here, so if we look carefully, I am sure there will be a farming manual. I even found a medicinal herb encyclopedia the other day.”

“Could you perhaps tell me those things a bit sooner?” Idris asked.

My heart nearly stopped.

He swept his hand over his chest with an exaggerated motion. At that sight, Irene burst into a light laugh. He knew how to joke like this; he really felt like the peers from her village. At another piece of a memory resurfacing, her mood improved even further.

“Ahaha, I just do not often remember where the things I do not use are located.”

“I suppose so. Since the house is large, it makes sense. Regardless, I think it would be best to find a farming manual first.”

“I agree.”

Irene grabbed the latch of the stone door, which looked quite out of place against the wooden walls, and struck it twice. The door, carved with the image of a grotesque lion, vibrated with a loud noise before slowly opening. No matter how many times she saw it, this hodgepodge interior was not to her taste.

The pinnacle of it all was this room, filled with ancient books. It was a dim room without a single light on, but as light spilled through the doorway, hideous decorations became visible.

Irene held her lamp forward with a look of distaste. Two rows of candles deep inside the room ignited and flickered to life. The candle-lined stairs and the black altar before them, looking suspicious at a glance, became clearly visible.

‘Even after clearing away all the skulls and changing the inverse pentagram carpet to a normal one, it is still so gloomy.’

It was truly a room that sapped any motivation to decorate. Everything was wrong with this place, starting from the stone door carved with an ugly chimera face. To begin with, its original purpose was unpleasant. Honestly, she hated even looking at it.

Irene forced herself to ignore the altar that exuded a suspicious aura and tapped on a large bookshelf that reached all the way to the ceiling, more than filling both walls.

“This is where I put away the ancient texts and books I do not read. There are many that cover unusual topics, so if we look, there will certainly be at least one farming manual.”

“Then, if you will excuse me.”

Idris strode across the threshold and entered the dim room. He surveyed the surroundings briefly and then stood directly in front of a mahogany bookshelf. Supplementing the vague candlelight with his lamp, he seemed to read the titles one by one.

Irene watched Idris for a moment as he moved his lamp bit by bit, reading cautiously, and then stood at the opposite bookshelf. Though her eyes could see clearly even in the dark, she began searching for a manual just like Idris, holding up her lamp to illuminate the covers.

* * *

“Mr. Idris, I found it! There is a very thick farming manual here,” Irene called out.

“Thank you for your hard work. It really was here…!” Idris replied.

Irene pulled a hardcover book from the shelf that was so thick it looked ready to burst. When she handed over the book, which was too heavy for her to hold comfortably with one hand, he took it lightly with one hand, his expression brightening.

Just as he was about to move his other hand to flip the cover, he flinched, looking at the lamp in his hand. Idris set the book down on the black and white carpet. With one hand he held the lamp, and with the other, he began to pore through the pages. The two eyes set in his serious face moved rapidly as they read the text.

The pages turned quickly. Irene, who was crouching beside him reading along, tilted her head. Her long, honey-colored hair, which had been draped over her shoulder, slid down and fell toward her chest.

“Are you not uncomfortable? Would it not be easier to set the lamp down?” Irene asked.

Finally taking his eyes off the yellowish paper, Idris turned his gaze toward her. Seen in the dark, his blue eyes, already low in saturation, looked almost black. One of his eyebrows went up slightly in puzzlement.

“I recall you saying that the lamp must not be set down…”

“Well, the rules are a bit complicated. It would take too long to explain. Anyway, you may set it down for now. If I tell you to pick it up again, please do so then.”

“Yes, well. I understand.”

Idris nodded readily without raising any particular questions. As he set the lamp down on the carpet, the small statues placed in the corner of the rug cast even larger shadows.

Irene did not want to bother explaining the long, long rules starting with, ‘1. This place is never dark. If by any chance…’ right now. She could explain it slowly later.

‘Actually, he will probably almost never have a reason to come in here, so maybe he does not even need to know?’

Irene glanced at the black wall clock, which had as many as five clock hands, waiting for the timing to give the instruction, but that moment never came. This was because Idris, who had skimmed about a third of the book with lightning-fast speed, clutched his head and pressed it against the carpet as if in despair.