"What's wrong, Jeanne? Has something happened?"
Talulah was frantic. She was terrified that Jeanne would tell her they were trapped. If they couldn't leave, she would never be able to forgive herself.
Jeanne looked at the panicked little dragon and smiled warmly. "Don't worry. With me here, danger is impossible. We will all leave safely."
"Oh? It seems Miss Jeanne doubts my power," Kashchey said, his eyes a mix of scrutiny and an unidentifiable emotion.
For some reason, he seemed to hold Jeanne in high regard—or perhaps it was a hidden fear. His eyes would occasionally flicker with a tremor he didn't even notice, like a normal person looking at a ticking bomb, instinctively wanting to stay away.
"I don't know if you truly possess such power," Jeanne said, her voice questioning yet polite. "But if you do, why don't you come down and kill us to take the body? Or use that black snake of yours to attack?"
"..." "..."
The air fell into a dead silence. The black snake coiled and hissed, its power so immense that the shockwaves destroyed the mansion's roof, revealing the glowing sword pointed directly at Kashchey's head.
Yet, despite the display of power, the snake never moved more than two meters away from Kashchey's seat. The wind from its thrashing didn't even reach the trio.
Jeanne kept smiling, and suddenly, Kashchey's oppressive aura vanished. The black snake remained hovering above him, looking exhausted as it tried to shield its master from the light of the overhead sword.
"That... actually felt pretty good," Kashchey chuckled, looking genuinely amused. Talulah and Alina were utterly confused.
"!!! You son of a—! You *[Lungmen Profanity]*ing played me?!" Talulah erupted. "You [Ursus Profanity], [Ursus Dialect Profanity], [Lungmen Dialect Profanity]!"
Alina and Jeanne watched in awe. They had no idea Talulah's vocabulary of curses was so diverse and multilingual.
"My daughter, I remember telling you to remain elegant," Kashchey said, his amusement only fueling Talulah's rage.
"Elegant my [Lungmen Profanity]! I don't care what you said, you old [Multilingual Profanity String]!"
"It seems people really do show their potential when pushed. This mix of dialects is rare," Jeanne remarked with genuine respect. Alina, meanwhile, was staring at the ceiling. Doesn't Jeanne realize she's the one who drove Talulah to this?
Twenty minutes later, a breathless Talulah finally finished her four-nation profanity tour (including Victoria and Columbia). If she could have reached Kashchey, she would have minced him into sausage meat.
She turned around to find Jeanne and Alina sitting quietly... eating watermelon.
"Where did the watermelon come from?! This is a mental space!"
"Just imagine it! Use your memories to manifest it," Jeanne said, offering a plate. "Want some?"
Talulah took it. She had cursed so much she was dehydrated and out of oxygen.
"Such incredible learning speed," Kashchey noted, sipping a glass of wine he had manifested. "It took me thirty years to master manifestation. If my daughter had half your talent, my life would have been much easier."
Kashchey looked at Jeanne. "Tell me, when did you realize my secret?"
"I knew something was off when I walked in," Jeanne said, her voice a bit muffled by watermelon. "I was sure of it when Talulah attacked you. You went through all the trouble to recreate this house to play mind games, yet you didn't leave your seat."
She pointed to the sky. "A man with your ego would never imagine a sword hanging over his own head. The only reason you built this mansion in your most familiar memory was for a sense of security."
Kashchey began to clap. "Bravo, Miss Jeanne. You pointed out the core of the problem."
He stood and gave a respectful bow. "Allow me to introduce myself again. I am the evil god Kashchey—a foolish being who drew the ire of the 'Supreme' through foolish actions. As for that sword... it has a name, though I do not fully understand its meaning."
He paused, speaking the name with deep reverence:
"—The Sword of Damocles!"