Half an hour later, Jerome looked as though he had just witnessed the end of the world—pale, disheveled, his gaze hollow and distant.
"You said you were afraid of creatures with many legs..." he muttered, his voice cracking.
"Me?"
Juliet raised an eyebrow, adjusting her riding coat.
"I don't recall saying that.
Someone dropped their sword rather loudly, and it was interfering with my concentration."
"Pfft..."
The other knights couldn't suppress their laughter.
They had just finished rounding up the horses—which had bolted in terror—when that same centipede monster had attacked.
Blue butterflies still drifted lazily through the air, as though sated after a long feast.
Jerome cast anxious, sidelong glances at them.
Even though Juliet had made a fool of him, it wasn't as though Jerome had been entirely useless.
After the mysterious blue butterflies had appeared, the monsters in the forest had descended into a strange frenzy—turning on one another, tearing each other apart until none remained standing.
The sight had clearly broken something in Jerome.
From that moment on, he abandoned his provocative swagger and began orbiting Juliet with an expression of anxious reverence.
"If you can handle creatures like *that*... why do you even need an escort?" he muttered, sounding like a wounded child.
"Did you want to say something?" she asked dryly, weary of his antics.
"Yes," Jerome nodded with unexpected gravity.
"Then ask."
"How many years have you been taming this demon?"
Juliet lifted her chin.
"If you're referring to the butterflies, they're not demons.
They're spirits."
"Ha!
That's rich!"
Jerome chuckled—but seeing that she didn't so much as smile, he quickly fell silent, color rising in his cheeks.
"Hmm... so you're a spirit summoner?
I see.
But in our world—the mercenary world—no one calls *that* a spirit.
It's a demon.
You should be careful."
Juliet shrugged.
But she didn't attach much weight to his words.
However, Jerome showed no intention of falling silent.
"You know, I'll tell you a story.
An old one.
Want to hear it?"
Juliet sighed audibly.
"We had a man in our squad about ten years ago.
His name was Julio."
"He was all flash and theatrics.
A bit eccentric.
Every time he got paid, he'd buy all sorts of trinkets.
Called them 'treasures.'
Nonsense, really."
"And then?"
Juliet asked coldly.
She still didn't understand why he had started this story.
"Well, here's the thing.
He was a gold-ranked mercenary.
Do you understand what that means?"
But she remained silent.
"He was terrible with a sword, though.
The only reason he had that gold stripe was because he was a spirit summoner."
"A summoner?"
"Yes.
Just like you.
Except he didn't summon butterflies.
He summoned something... terrifying.
A massive yellow snake.
So enormous it was sometimes mistaken for a dragon.
And it killed people like nothing."
"A snake..."
Juliet whispered, frowning.
"Then he started saying strange things.
He'd wake up in the middle of the night, and the snake would be there—sitting by his bed, watching him sleep."
"And?"
"And he, can you imagine, was *proud* of it.
Said the demon was guarding him even in his sleep."
"What happened to him?
Is he still alive?"
"Alas."
Jerome shrugged.
"He died.
Or... disappeared."
"How?"
"Vanished in the middle of the night.
But everyone in the squad knew: he was eaten by the snake."
"Why are you so certain?"
"Miss, you've never seen a truly large snake, have you?"
Jerome asked with a crooked smile, studying her face.
"When a snake holds its mouth open for a long time without moving, it's simply assessing whether its prey will fit inside whole."
He stated this with absolute confidence.
"It didn't look like protection at all.
That idiot Julio just *thought* the snake was guarding him.
In reality... he was devoured by the very creature he had tamed."
Juliet was shaken by this unexpected conclusion.
But Jerome remained entirely serious throughout.
"As soon as we're out of this forest, I'm gone.
I don't need entanglement in other people's affairs—knightly or otherwise," he added, making no effort to soften his bluntness.
His words were harsh, but Juliet did not fault him for them.
"Don't take it too seriously," Cain said, approaching a short while later.
"Jerome is a good man, but he's prone to drama.
I served in the same company as Julio.
And this notion that he was eaten by a snake?
Pure fairy tale."
"Why do you think so?"
"Because he was spotted in the desert more than once afterward.
Alive.
But Jerome remains convinced he vanished forever."
"Don't take everything Jerome says literally," Cain advised, his tone serious.
"Among mercenaries, exaggeration is second nature.
Catch a snake, and you'll claim you slew a dragon.
Just filter what you hear."
He escorted Juliet to her carriage before returning to the camp.
But Juliet could not sleep.
## — The Question She Shouldn't Have Asked —
Left alone, she lay staring at the carriage ceiling, her thoughts churning.
She had never encountered another spirit summoner before.
All she knew were her own blue butterflies—the ones that had appeared unbidden, without being called, and behaved like... living things.
Not tools.
*Beings* with wills of their own.
And yet, the snake Jerome had described... in some ways, it resembled her butterflies.
Juliet raised her head and watched the butterflies, which had begun circling around her once more as though nothing had happened.
"And you?
Are you going to eat me?"
They answered in a voice that crackled with irritation.
Suddenly—a flash.
Juliet winced.
The butterflies beat their wings sharply, as though struck by sudden pain.
"All right, all right—I understand!"
Juliet raised her hand quickly, alarmed.
Several butterflies descended feebly onto her palm, their glow fading.
Others flared with blue fire and vanished, dissolving into thin air.
And then Juliet remembered.
"He collected ancient artifacts..."
Juliet murmured, recalling Jerome's words.
She knew of only one: the artifact called *Snowdrop*.
The thought struck her like a blow.
"What exactly are you... yellow snake?"
Juliet whispered into the darkness, expecting no answer.