The blizzard arrived right on schedule.

By noon the next day, gale-force winds whipped thick snowflakes across Ludwig Barony. The sky darkened rapidly. Howling gusts shook the roof’s support beams. Ancient wooden frames groaned uneasily. Tiles trembled in the wind. The entire roof seemed ready to tear loose at any moment.

Wrapped in a blanket, I sat on my bed quietly drafting an Arcane Formula.

From my past-life memories, the Lud family roof had never collapsed under a blizzard. Still, I’d reinforced the damaged, rotting beams with steel nails—just in case.

Thanks to the windbreak wall I’d built and old curtains and sheets layered as insulation, my attic stayed completely draft-free. Warm air channeled from the chimney through brass pipes made the space not just cozy, but warmer than the floors below.

“Haaah~” The black cat arched its back on the rug, stretching lazily. “So warm… makes me want to nap.”

“Need a cushion?”

“Hmph. Since it’s your kindness, I’ll reluctantly accept.”

Smiling, I brought out the old cushion I’d dug up days ago. Cleaning and drying it had taken effort—but watching Chris curl up on it made it all worthwhile.

The old mechanical clock clanked metallically. One p.m. Time to show my face downstairs. I usually stayed hidden in the attic, avoiding everyone—but skipping meals would expose my kitchen raids.

Descending the steep stairs to the third floor, I crossed the soft carpet toward the center. The attic stairs were on the west end, so I had to pass Elizabeth’s room. Today, she was still throwing a tantrum. I heard her whiny complaint: “It’s too cold! I want a mink coat!” What did a five-year-old brat need with a mink coat? Was she out of her mind?

Meanwhile, I wore only dusty hand-me-downs scavenged from the attic. The robe I had on was some lady’s old padded jacket—too big for my thin frame. Worst of all, moth-eaten holes riddled the sleeves.

Most servants ignored me. I kept close to the walls. Then I saw my father, Count Lud, humming as he carried a brand-new coat upstairs. His eyes met mine—and flashed pure disgust: *Why are you still alive?* I looked away and walked on.

“Here. Your meal.”

A sticky, dog-food-like slop landed at my feet. The cook glared as if I were oversized non-flammable trash. Ever since Freud splashed them with leftovers, this was all I got. Still, there was bread. I gulped down the dry, hard crusts and hurried back upstairs.

Outside, snow piled thick against the castle’s windward side. First-floor north windows vanished under white drifts. Servants braved the storm to shut the outer wooden shutters—normally useless, now vital. They acted like solid walls, shielding the fragile glass panes.

(Those expensive glass windows? Installed solely for Elizabeth. Fifteen workers spent half a month fitting them. That little brat really knew how to spend coin. If it’s dark inside, just light a lamp—why glass?)

Back on the third floor, Elizabeth shrieked for a mink coat, not a padded jacket. Helpless under her Beguiling Eye’s influence, Father dashed to the treasury. He’d become her top lapdog. Pathetic.

*My lord father… that child shares not a drop of your blood.*

Just as I turned toward the attic, Mary stepped out. She shot me a venomous glare.

“Disgusting thing.”

She stomped off toward the central stairs, scowling. Mary was now the household’s third-most powerful figure—after Count Lud—and hated me most. To her, I was a stumbling block on Elizabeth’s path to power. As if I wanted it.

Back in my attic, I decided to sleep early. Darkness pressed outside; the blizzard raged. Nothing to do. Renovations were done. Stay quiet, and no one would “discipline” me. Those foolish servants never guessed this attic was now cozier than their precious Miss Elizabeth’s room.

Consciousness blurred. I sank into dreams.

I opened my eyes. Stars glittered beyond the glass dome. The Eternal Night Library welcomed me. Only here could I wear the jet-black mage robes and become a clever, cheerful apprentice magician.

Towering bookshelves stood in darkness, magical tomes glowing faintly. Any single volume here would be a national treasure elsewhere—their knowledge priceless.

Aleister appeared only at night. A ghost bound by “restrictions.” By day, I roamed freely—but I’d long sensed anomalies.

Faint footsteps skittered atop shelves. Distorted shapes flickered at the edge of vision. My lantern lit only a small circle. Beyond that bottomless dark, *things* lurked.

I was now Chief Librarian—just one step from Head. But I knew: I wasn’t the only guest here. Others hid within. This library was essentially a Demon Realm—an artificial pocket dimension forged for purpose. Outside the starlit central dome, invisible dangers waited.

Yet the shadows feared light. My lantern protected me. As long as I held it… I was safe.

*In theory.*

Books followed strict order: farther from the dome, greater the value. I couldn’t yet decipher the deepest texts, so I stayed in the outer layers.

I returned a borrowed book. It slid neatly into place. Reaching for another, I froze. Behind the gap glowed eyes—pupils narrow slits, like a serpent’s.

“Hello, young apprentice librarian,” a seductive voice purred. “Ages since a living human walked here. And the awaited caretaker… such a cute girl. Ohohoho~ That troublesome Aleister… dumping this on you? Does his conscience not ache?”

Scales scraped stone. First, spotless white skin emerged from shadow, then hair of writhing serpents. Beneath them, a face so stunning it could make men scream. A gorgon materialized—woman above, serpent below. Darkness swallowed her tail’s end. She was the first “resident” to greet me. I must not be rude.

“Honored lady,” I bowed, curtsying with a lifted hem. “I am Victoria, Doria Flamell Lud. I offer my deepest respects.”

Her face fell into disappointment.

“Hmph! Not scared at all? So cold! Are kids these days fearless?”

She scratched scales near her tail, boredom washing over her. Her noble aura vanished—suddenly an eighty-year-old grandmother on the verge of senility.

“Milady?”

“Hmph. Since you’re sharp,” she grumbled, “I’ll introduce myself. I’m Sharafi. Call me your… colleague. But as senior, heed this: dear Victoria, never step beyond the lantern’s glow. Others here aren’t as gentle as Sister. They’d swallow you whole.”

Her warning was no bluff. Other librarians stirred in the dark. As Chief Librarian, I was their intended offering. Knowledge demanded payment. Carelessness meant death.

But to uncover ancient forbidden truths—I had to risk it.

“Lady Sharafi,” I gathered courage. “Where might I find books on… ‘Alchemical Lifeforms’?”

“Eh? Little girl, mad?” She eyed me. “So young, chasing ultimate taboo? Creating Alchemical Lifeforms invites divine wrath.”

“No matter. I’ve already broken taboos. I’ve pact-bound with a demon.”

“Fine.” She nodded. “Follow me. I’ll take you to a strange one. Brace yourself—he’s the most cunning, treacherous librarian here. Slimy tentacles everywhere. They call him the bane of women.”

She slithered forward, leading the way.

To gain forbidden knowledge, a price must be paid.

Could I trust her?

I didn’t know.

But I had no choice.