Agnes

'Tell me, in places yet untouched by cartographers, could greater fascinations await?'

From sketching castles and chapels to exploring culture and geography, cartographers wield charcoal and parchment to map every realm, measuring the land one step at a time. The girl had traveled countless paths alongside her cartographer grandfather, learning that staying grounded was the true calling of their craft.

Yet why, when faced with magnificent castles, did her mind wander not to blueprints and stonework, but to the graceful figures who once danced through the grand halls? And when confronted with desolate ruins, why did her mind linger not on timelines or treaties, but on the nameless souls buried beneath, erased from memory? Was a cartographer meant to be tethered only to what could be seen and measured? Did the stories she uncovered—the whispered legends, the forbidden secrets, the hidden tales—truly count for nothing?

The girl steeled herself for distant shores. Perhaps history need not follow a set course, and perhaps within time's relentless currents the unexpected truly awaits discovery. This time, she would complete her pilgrimage on her own terms.

The young cartographer's scheduled survey is set for tomorrow.

Yet I can already picture it—knowing her stubborn spirit, even if the castle gates were firmly locked, she would find a way to climb in through the windows.

After careful consideration, there is only one way to prevent her entry—I must complete the survey myself, before she gets the chance.

Determined to walk the cartographer's path before she could, I made my first stop at the back garden of the castle.

This place had long since been transformed into an alchemical garden by that enigmatic steward.

As I stepped inside, the subtle smile gracing Cain's lips whispered of something out of the ordinary.

Agnes, that young girl, had already arrived and completed her initial survey.

The survey was set for tomorrow, but she'd already made her move.

Fortunately, the first survey location was Cain's territory. Well-versed in the art of concealment, he should be able to leave no trace.

But if the survey goes any deeper, Bathory's well-hidden secrets may be laid bare. I must stop her before that happens.

Soon three packages arrived from Agnes, delivered with the same breathless urgency that defines her nature.

Package One: Several sketches with chaotic handwriting yet remarkable spatial intuition. Undoubtedly Agnes's handiwork, sent as cartographic reference material.Package Two: A survey manual marking locations such as the Underground Sepulcher, where blood servants gather; the Ancestral Vault, where primordial Bloodborn lie in slumber; and the Alchemical Tower, where copies are forged. Why is it that all these places are so eerie and ominous?

Package Three: A parcel marked 'cartographic instruments.' Upon opening, it contained nothing but a stack of well-worn storybooks. Surely the wrong package?

Despite the ominous survey locations and the lack of proper tools, I relied on Agnes's drawings to complete the mapping task. With that, the survey should reach its conclusion.

Elfriede is a village concealed deep within the forest's embrace.

It had been so long since I last roamed these lands that I failed to realize the territory was under nightly assault by bat swarms, leaving the villagers stricken with fear.

Clearly, these creatures were blood servants kept by the Vassals out in the wild. Since the arrival of winter forced most beasts into hibernation, the ravenous servants redirected their hunger toward this defenseless village.

Though time was pressing on the survey, saving lives took precedence. I used what remained of my medical knowledge to tend to the wounded. Once their conditions stabilized, I made my way back. Along the way, I recalled each wandering blood servant, escorting them back to the castle to return to the Vassal, accompanied by a cartload of Pure Blood Essence to soothe their terrible thirst.

Once the crisis passed, I let out a deep sigh of relief. However, an entire day had elapsed, causing the time-sensitive survey task to be marked as failed.

Just as I lifted my pen to write Agnes a letter explaining the circumstances, a sudden wave of bewilderment stirred within my heart. As those blood servants fluttered toward me, I distinctly heard a girl's piercing scream—a voice that carried something deeply unsettling.

The drafting ruler Agnes gifted me is said to be a meticulously crafted replica of hers.

It is said that every cartographer possesses a custom-made drafting tool designed exclusively for them. This ruler is no exception—serving as both precision instrument in the girl's capable hands and dependable weapon upon the battlefield.

In its extended form, it serves for measurement and drafting work. When adjusted to a specific angle, it can be thrown like a boomerang for ranged attacks. In close combat, it can be swiftly disassembled and reassembled into a spear. A single tool with many uses—ingeniously and elegantly designed.