My Mansion of Gorgeous Maids in Another World-Chapter 49: For Lady Eleonora

Dark‑Ink Steeds howled like hell‑beasts and lunged forward, yet Jett and the others lounging inside the carriage felt no jolt. Ewelina cracked open the window to see if they were finally leaving the forest’s heart. A sudden wash of golden light engulfed the carriage, startling the Hero, and in the next breath they were back in ordinary woodland, the stallions trotting smoothly along a dirt road.

"Splendid," Ewelina murmured.

Jett reclined in his seat, studying the fairy‑made map. The parchment showed the continent cleaved in two, one half claimed by the Blue Empire’s dukedoms and its lone kingdom, the Six Weather Dukedoms circling the Dawn Kingdom like changing seasons. Their carriage presently traversed Mist‑Cloud Dukedom at the southern tip, bound for Rain‑Bead and, beyond that, Stormcloud—Jett’s destination.

Even with the fairies’ blessing and my steeds running nonstop, it will still take a few days. I may not arrive in time.

While Jett contemplated his objective, Mia led Noctlisa to the maids’ quarters at the rear of the carriage. Together they scrubbed the bunks and prepared fresh bedding for any newly awakened servants. Countless travelers had occupied the space before, so they also had to air out the mingled scents.

Lulu fluttered over and shot up a hand. "I can air it out! With my super‑duper wind magic this place will brim with fresh air!"

"Should you not devote your focus to maintaining the wind enchantment, Lulu?" Mia inquired, her tone soft yet formal.

"No worries—I just have to stay close," Lulu chirped.

"How admirably convenient, if a touch mundane," Mia observed.

Outside, Jett spotted a village on the horizon, yet not a single soul stirred—a grim omen.

Closing the distance, he saw wooden cottages half‑tilted and sunken into the earth, victims of the lizardmen’s magic. The spell had faded, but the homes had not miraculously resurfaced.

Farther in, severed limbs jutted from the debris of toppled shops and wells. The air reeked of rot, and a lone timber creaked like a dying heartbeat. Those who hadn’t been transformed had been butchered and abandoned without burial. Jett stared, wordless.

If a mere village is this ruined, what horrors wait in the capital?

Hours slipped past in uneasy silence. Mia and Noctlisa scarcely noticed, absorbed in their chores, while Lulu fluttered about, an energetic nuisance. Jett and the Hero, however, grew increasingly impatient; each ruined hamlet only sharpened their resolve to halt the massacres.

At last the border between Mist‑Cloud and Rain‑Bead Dukedoms came into view.

A sparse patrol manned the checkpoint, and they blanched as the dark stallions thundered toward them. Even by moonlight the Steeds cleaved the gloom, black silhouettes limned in eldritch sheen. Few but the steeliest veterans could watch them without flinching.

"Mr. Talon! Should I speak with them? Maybe they know if other heroes and soldiers went to Stormcloud’s capital?" Ewelina asked.

"A brief stop won’t kill us—and my boys need a breather," Jett replied, drawing a relieved smile from the Hero. He faced the maids. "While Ewelina chats up the guards, we’ll feed the lads. Noctlisa, fetch their favorite mash."

"Aye, Master—on it." Noctlisa bowed.

Jett hopped down before her answer, leaving the Hero to sprint toward the patrol while he strode to the Steeds. Their alert stillness impressed him afresh.

"Well done, boys," he said, patting each glossy neck.

Ay, Master. Thanks! the horses wheezed.

Moments later Noctlisa arrived with buckets of water and hay, Lulu wobbling behind her. The twin pails were almost too much for the lithe fairy, yet she clenched her teeth and soldiered on.

"Mega‑duper twinkle energy," she grunted, wings beating faster than a hive of bees.

They set the buckets down for the Steeds and began to feed them; Jett joined in, drawing pleased snorts from the stallions. For an instant the tableau—master, maids, and mounts—looked almost domestic. Yet Jett’s gaze kept drifting east, measuring how many precious minutes slipped by. Lulu, the perpetual spark, buzzed around scattering her "super‑duper" cheer.

When the Hero returned, she paused, startled to find the dragon‑slayer in noble garb tending horses like any farmhand.

Jett beckoned her closer. "How did it go?"

"Well. I soothed their nerves and asked about troop movements. Three days ago Stormcloud requested aid, and Mist‑Cloud dispatched two squadrons. More may have followed since."

Though the Dukedoms competed fiercely, standing treaties bound them—and the Dawn Kingdom—to mutual aid against external threats.

"There’s something else, Mr. Talon," she added. freeweɓnovel~cѳm

"Hmmm?" Jett cocked a brow.

"Stormcloud has only one dragon‑slayer."

...

In Skia—the Stormcloud capital—the slaughter between humans and dragons had raged for days.

Wave after wave of "lizards" spilled from dragon‑torn portals, drowning the streets in fresh claws and blood.

Only Stormcloud Mansion remained a pocket of safety, sheltering countless civilians.

They gasped as a man in a white suit and gray tie staggered in from the front lines—his left arm gone.

A cadre of knights in gleaming white armor followed, wing motifs adorning their greaves and sword hilts. Their once‑pristine armor bore scars, tears, and bloodstains—some plates even missing—yet the soldiers had won the skirmish and marched on with pride.

"My lord, you should not have ventured out!" a butler cried, rushing to press healing magic to the bleeding stump.

"I cannot sit idle while my people fall. If I can help slay even one dragon or lizard, I will keep staking my life," the Stormcloud Lord declared, jaw clenched against the throb of his wound. "They target us because fate denied us dragon‑slayers—yet that same fate will not let Stormcloud vanish. Even if we all die today, our name will rise again, for we alone earned the honor of aiding the next Warden. For our honor, for our children, and for Lady Eleonora, we fight. Let the Warden see Stormcloud’s blood is worthy of his cause!"

His words drew solemn nods from butler, knights, and refugees alike, and a ragged cheer rose for every soul still battling the catastrophe.

...

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