Boiling Beast Bloodline
Chapter 192 - 3_1

Chapter 192: Chapter 3_1

For some reason, every time Desmond spoke in a similar tone, stating the same facts, it would always greatly annoy Bauman. Therefore, she retaliated almost instantly with an insulting response —

"They’re all just like you, complete rubbish. Violins made of crystals, trumpets made of crystals, timpani made of crystals... the entire orchestra was made from these fake crystals! Even if they perfectly mimic magic-encased instruments in appearance and sound, at the end of the day, they’re still nothing more than a pile of counterfeit crystals!" she raged.

The golem butler quietly stood motionless, showing no signs of surprise. It continued to silently listen to the torrential barrage of words, as it always did.

Sure enough, the blind Miss Lich carried on her impassioned speech, "Do you know why I refuse to cure my blindness with those crystal prosthetics, even with the widespread use of magic technology? It’s because I disdain them!"

"With these crystals that ripple with illusions through and through, even if I could regain sight, all I would see would be the false images refracted by the crystals!"

"I don’t need these fake things!" Bauman’s slender hand gently lifted to indicate her temple. "The sights of my hometown that I saw before I went blind, they are still imprinted firmly in my mind!"

As if touched by these words, the previously silent Desmond muttered, "The... scenery... of your hometown?"

"Yes, not the seismic landscapes, bizarre vegetation, nor cities built in forests or subterranean depths here. It was truly... beautiful scenery..." As if recalling something, Bauman’s voice gradually trailed off.

"So, are you referring to the views you and others saw when you ventured illegally through the Space-Time Rift to the Aegean Continent about forty years ago?"

"Hmph, you even have information on this? The Magic Guild has really invested a lot. But this data is useless to me now! I’m blind, what more could those adults be worried that I might do?"

The golem butler wisely refrained from further comment.

After grumbling a few sentences, the mistress returned to recalling the picturesque scenery in her memory. "The Aegean Continent was originally our Demon Clan’s homeland. Even after we were driven away by those despicable beings, not a single member of our clan has forgotten our only home."

"That vibrant green land... the gentle breezes that brushed past... and that golden... unforgettable, heart-stirring glow..."

"My greatest dream has always been to turn that everlasting, indelible landscape into music, so that every wanderer far from home can hear it..."

Unknowingly, she had returned to her piano. The golem butler, who was standing behind her, remained silent and just continued to listen, not saying a word.

"I’m getting back to work now, you can leave." The harshness in her voice had significantly softened since the beginning of their conversation. In a sense, this could be considered a small concession on her part.

The golem butler, as always, respectfully bowed his head and made his way out of the studio.

The rhythm again gradually filled the studio and the whole villa. Compared to the previous compositions, there was a distinctive touch of nimbleness in this one, though it was still far from forming a complete melody...

Alas, it was far from enough to be considered a true piano piece.

********

Days went by in the blink of an eye. Miss Bauman’s creative block seemed to show no signs of resolution. The Automated butler carried on with its gardening, cleaning, and home repairs consistently every day, while the townsfolk had become accustomed to the occasional cacophony that echoed from the mansion.

The only change was that Miss Bauman had finally ceased her late-night creative sessions. She, who once lived without any routine, gradually adopted a normal timetable. Such peculiar behavior naturally attracted the chatter of the bored gossipmongers in town.

Desmond had never been seen without his cloak, nor did he engage in leisure activities in town, aside from necessary shopping trips required by his role as the mechanical Butler. As a result, he became the lead candidate in all those salacious rumors about the lady of the mansion.

But as rumors come and go swiftly – once the automated butler made an outing that clearly wasn’t for shopping, the spicy gossip circulating in the town evaporated instantaneously, like a light drizzle in the desert. Some gossipy individuals who had relentlessly spread the rumors seemed to have had a nervous breakdown, twitching and contorting in fear.

Their families spent a lot of money to summon the most experienced silver-eyed doctors from neighboring towns. The doctors concluded that it was due to fright, but could not pinpoint any specifics. No one believed this diagnosis; the doctor didn’t even prescribe a calming remedy but merely pocketed his fee and left. The message was clear: better not meddle with the people living in that mansion, be they Lich or automated Butler.

Miss Bauman remained unaware of these happenings. Ever since Desmond, the automated Butler, took charge of the mansion’s daily chores, she had been able to devote more time to her work. Although she hadn’t seen any substantial breakthrough in her work, being free from trivial matters was still a huge relief.

The beautiful witch didn’t realize that she categorized everyday necessities such as food and sleep as trivial matters, not to mention room cleaning. One reason for the limited output of her previous creations was the chain reaction caused by her poor eyesight.

Against this backdrop, it was even less likely for the mistress of the mansion to realize the improvements in her life were entirely thanks to her new automated butler. But all of that did not matter much to her. All she wanted to do now was to recreate the enchanting sceneries from her memory through her music.

Then, on a seemingly ordinary night after the automated butler had tidied up the mistress’s studio, it began its leisurely patrol along the mansion’s hallways. The fact that it could walk without making a sound in such a silent environment spoke volumes about the meticulous care of its programmer.

Conducting a routine patrol of the entire mansion before returning to its room for the night was therefore a logical consequence. When it reached Miss Bauman’s bedroom, the automated butler found an unprecedented situation where the lady had left her bedroom door ajar. As Butler was about to close the door, he heard a humming sound coming from the room.

Such a thing had never happened before during patrols. Of course, the door was probably well closed previously, enabling the good sound-insulating environment to prevent Desmond from noticing. Anyway, in a situation where it could not immediately discern what had occurred, the automated butler decided to barge into the lady’s bedroom without any hesitation.

As always, Desmond’s actions were quiet and unnoticed. If there was an intruder, it was a seasoned warrior’s habit to avoid startling them.

Luckily, there was no one else in the room.

Miss Bauman was lying on her bed, asleep, fully clothed. A continuous faint hum emanated from her; from her lying and sleeping position, only a few graceful notes were discernible by the Butler. The lady’s faint voice rose and fell, echoing in the empty room, and Butler recorded it carefully in its memory core.

Meanwhile, it noticed Miss Bauman’s facial expressions. Despite being deep in sleep, her face exhibited a multitude of emotions as she hummed. Excitement, tension, joy, pain...

Perhaps she was reliving the unforgettable memories from her excursion to the Aegean Continent in her dreams. Desmond made the most logical assumption, as his input data also contained information about the individual who had once shared in this romantic adventure with Miss Bauman.

For some reason, the automated butler found the lady’s current posture much warmer than usual. Of course, that might merely have been due to an instability in its core. Desmond laughed internally.

Then, he quietly closed the bedroom door of the lady and continued his unfinished patrol duties.

Outside the mansion window, two lonely Xiang Pa lights continued to hang in the sky.