Gathering Wives with a System

Chapter 256: Eliminated, Celia’s Shock

“Go on,” Isaac said.

Althea drew in a quiet breath before continuing.

“This third objective gives preferential treatment to the first person attempting it. The puppets inside the mansion aren’t aware of us yet.

“That means the first person who tries to steal the dolls will face relatively relaxed security.

“But if that first attempt fails, the trial will continue, and the puppets will become alert.

“After that, they’ll patrol the mansion properly, making it much harder for anyone else to succeed.”

Her words carried a seriousness that made Celia frown.

She could already sense where Althea was going with this.

“What are you trying to say?” Celia asked.

Althea’s lips pressed together for a moment before she spoke. “I want to be the first one to attempt the third objective. If you let me go first, I swear upon my name and my faith that the Florathi race will support you unconditionally. We will—”

“Okay,” Isaac interrupted.

“I know you want to go first but… huh?”

Her brow furrowed in surprise, as if she hadn’t processed his quick answer.

“Did you just agree with me?”

“Yes.”

Althea blinked, then narrowed her eyes slightly.

“…So you want me to act as a test drive. To check the puppets’ strength first.”

The realization made her clench her fist.

Isaac’s tone had been calm, but the implication was clear enough. He didn’t believe she could actually complete the trial.

She would serve as his bait to test the strength of puppets and their abilities, and when she failed, they would move in.

Still, she couldn’t really blame him.

The problem didn’t lie with Isaac’s words, but with her own weakness compared to them.

“If you don’t like my words, I can go first,” Isaac added simply.

His tone carried no malice, just a statement of fact.

Althea looked at him for a few moments.

Then, without answering, she turned and started making her way toward the mansion.

Isaac didn’t stop her.

He didn’t even ask her for a Contract to bind her earlier promise of support.

For him, it wasn’t worth wasting stat points on something like that.

After all, even if Althea didn’t intend to keep her word, he could simply meet the Seventh Queen of the Florathi race in the future.

Her words made it clear that the Seventh Queen had wanted to support him before, but couldn’t until now because his potential, while impressive, hadn’t been enough to gamble on.

Things were different now.

Once Isaac became a Lord, he would show everything.

Celia’s eyes followed Althea, then shifted back to Isaac. “Isaac, why did you let her go first? You know as well as I do that once she fails, the dolls will become more alert.”

Isaac didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he lifted a finger to the mask covering his face, tapping lightly where his lips would be.

The gesture was clear.

They couldn’t let Althea overhear them.

Only after a pause did he speak quietly. “The thing she said about the puppets being more alert later is wrong. They’re aware of us already.”

Celia’s eyes widened. “What? But she said—”

“I can feel it,” Isaac interrupted softly. “Mana is moving unnaturally around us. It’s subtle, but it’s there. The source is the puppets. They’re acting like they don’t know we’re here, but in truth, they already do.”

Celia drew in a sharp breath.

She had underestimated puppets.

For the first time, she felt a chill at the thought of facing those so-called nannies.

…

Althea POV

Althea moved closer to the mansion, unaware of their hushed exchange.

She kept her breathing calm, and placed each steps carefully.

This was her Talent—Sound Manipulation (A rank).

She knew how to mask her presence, how to move without a single misplaced noise.

To her, the creak of a floorboard or the rustle of leaves was an enemy to be outwitted.

Her fingers brushed lightly against her weapon, though she didn’t draw it.

Her goal wasn’t to fight, but to steal one of the dolls and get out before the puppets noticed.

She reached the outer wall and pressed her back against it.

Her ears strained for the slightest shift in sound, the smallest hint of movement inside.

The mansion was quiet, unnaturally so.

Even with her training, she couldn’t hear footsteps. That silence only heightened her unease.

“Focus,” she muttered under her breath.

Her skill flared softly, bending the sound around her.

Her steps dampened until even the crunch of gravel under her boots was muted.

Slowly, she climbed up to one of the side windows and slipped inside.

The room she entered was dim.

There was not a speck of dust the room, as though it was cleaned daily despite being abandoned for centuries.

The furniture looked old, but untouched.

A faint scent of varnish lingered, as if someone had preserved the room deliberately.

She moved forward, every sense on edge.

Down the hall, she caught sight of her target.

A small figure sat on a chair, dressed in old but well-kept clothes.

Its head tilted slightly, porcelain skin catching the faint light.

’A doll.’

Althea’s heart beat faster. That was it. That was the trial’s objective.

She stepped closer, careful to keep her sound barrier steady.

The doll didn’t move.

Its glassy eyes stared blankly ahead, which was excepted since it was a doll.

Unlike the puppet monsters that acted as nannies, these dolls were normal dolls.

Althea reached out her hand. Her fingers brushed the porcelain arm.

The doll’s head snapped toward her.

Althea froze.

Her barrier wavered for a split second due to the surprise, and that moment of negligence cost her.

The puppets had detected her.

Their awareness pressed down on her like a weight, and the sound of footsteps echoed through the mansion from all directions.

She tried to grab the doll and escape, only for the doll to disappear like a mirage.

’It was an illusion.’

“Shit…” she hissed.

She spun around, her skill flaring as she tried to cover her retreat.

Her sound barrier bent sharply, muffling the noise of her hurried steps as she darted back toward the window.

But the puppets were faster.

One appeared at the end of the hallway.

It had a tall figure and stiff. Its movements were jerky yet unnaturally fast. Its face was blank, but its presence radiated power.

Althea clenched her teeth and unleashed a burst of sound.

A sharp crack rattled the glass in the windows.

The puppet staggered, but didn’t fall.

Althea bolted past, using the opening that appeared the moment it had staggered.

Her plan was to move exit through the window and enter another room where a doll was kept.

’Only one puppet is following me, and it hasn’t alerted others yet.’

’I shouldn’t make too much noise, or all puppets will come.’

She almost made it to the window when another puppet dropped down from above, blocking her exit.

Althea skidded to a halt, her breath sharp. She spun and ran for another hallway, but more shadows loomed ahead.

Her sound waves lashed out again, a pulsing rhythm meant to disorient them.

For a moment, she thought she had an opening.

Then something cold and unyielding wrapped around her ankle.

She looked down. A shadowy hand, created by a puppet gripped her.

The fingers of the shadow were cold and hard like steel.

“Let go!” she shouted, blasting the air with a desperate burst of sound.

The pressure cracked the walls, but the puppet didn’t release her. Another stepped forward, its movements eerily synchronized.

Her strength wavered for some unknown reason.

The sound barrier flickered.

She fought, her voice rising into a scream that shattered the silence, but it wasn’t enough.

The puppets closed in.

Her vision blurred as the trial’s system light enveloped her, pulling her out.

[Eliminated.]

…

Isaac POV

Isaac let out a slow breath and opened his eyes.

His Sovereign of Land skill dimmed as he deactivated it, the detailed awareness of everything inside the mansion fading with it.

“She has been eliminated,” he said flatly.

Celia’s head snapped toward him. “Why aren’t the puppets coming after us? If they know we’re here, and you were monitoring them with your skill, shouldn’t they be charging at us already?”

Isaac shook his head. “It seems they’ll only attack once we enter the mansion itself. As long as we’re outside the boundary, we’re not considered valid targets.”

Celia frowned and looked back at the looming structure.

The building was still, almost deceptively peaceful, but she now knew the calm was nothing but a façade.

“That makes sense… but it doesn’t make me feel any better about going in.”

Isaac folded his arms. “It doesn’t matter how we feel about it. What matters is the plan. Do you remember it?”

“Yes,” she said quickly, but her hand clenched into a fist. Her nervousness showed through, though there was a glint of excitement in her eyes as well. “But I have to ask again. Are you absolutely sure you can destroy the monolith blocking my teleportation?”

“Of course,” Isaac replied, rolling his shoulders as if warming up before a fight. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I wasn’t sure.”

Celia gave him an expectant look, as if she couldn’t wait to see how he was planning to fight.

He tilted his head slightly, then asked, “Celia, can I trust you with your part of this?”

Her answer came without hesitation. “Of course!”

She nodded vigorously, the determination in her voice cutting through her earlier doubt.

Isaac chuckled.

The sight of her enthusiasm, so quick and unguarded, made the tension a little easier to bear.

“Good. Then we’ll make this work.”

He stepped forward and activated his Draconic Form skill.

At the same time, his Nethorn Phantom Emperor bloodline stirred inside him.

Wings erupted from his back, stretching outward with a force that carried weight and majesty, yet his clothes didn’t tear or shift.

They simply adapted, flowing around the transformation as if nothing unnatural had occurred.

His body lengthened subtly, muscles tightened, and veins hummed with raw energy. His aura darkened.

Celia gasped.

Her mouth fell open, and her eyes became wide.

She stumbled back half a step, staring at the wings that extended behind him.

“Y-You…” Her voice shook, caught between shock and disbelief. “You can really copy their abilities!”

Isaac, who had been expecting praise or an exclamation about how amazing and powerful the form looked, froze at her words.