Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 155
After a brief rest, Richelle and Alan rose to their feet.
There was no time to waste. Though Rose’s foundation had been destabilized, rendering him powerless for now, no one knew how long it would last.
They needed to act swiftly, before he regained his full strength. This chance would not come again.
Upon leaving the room, they found the servants who had been watching Alan had long since vanished. The third floor was devoid of any signs of life, and Rogéros’ bedroom lay in silent darkness.
Richelle felt as if she were inside the hollow body of a lifeless creature. An eerie, suffocating silence gripped the mansion.
“We’re heading through the kitchen, right?”
“Yes.”
They descended the stairs. The second floor, where Madam Otis’s room was located, was similarly devoid of life. Only when they reached the first floor did they finally encounter a few scattered servants.
But something was strange about them. Instead of going about their usual duties, they stood in place, staring vacantly as if they were wind-up dolls left without a turn of the key.
Richelle and Alan exchanged glances, noting the servants’ dazed expressions. Clearly, Rose was not in good shape. If his roses, which drew their strength from him, were this withered, it was a hopeful sign for the two of them.
With a shared nod, they made their way toward the kitchen.
Though they encountered a few more servants along the way, none attempted to stop them. Thanks to this, they smoothly made their way outside to the garden.
By daylight, the garden was peaceful and beautiful, contrasting sharply with the scene from the night before. Passing through several garden sections, Richelle and Alan walked through the vine-covered maze until they finally reached their destination.
A low, mournful wail echoed from beyond the red brick wall—like the cry of Neil Otis, trapped in eternal despair.
Alan turned to Richelle, looking at her intently.
“I’ll open the door.”
“No, let me—”
“I’ll do it. It feels right that way.”
After all, the Fifth Garden was the Otis family’s burial grounds.
At Alan’s quiet words, Richelle stepped back without protest. Alan bowed his head and moved along the wall, searching.
The method to open the Fifth Garden was simpler than they had expected, as detailed in Charlotte’s postscript.
First, they had to find the single damaged brick lying flush with the ground.
“Here it is.”
Alan pointed to a brick with a long, jagged crack running through it, along with a triangle-shaped mark.
“And next…”
Once they found the damaged brick, they had to press the brick thirteen rows above it.
Alan carefully followed the instructions, then moved to the fifth brick to the right, then thirteen down again…
Finally, pressing the original damaged brick once more.
A low rumble vibrated through the wall. Alan stepped back, calling out.
“Is another drawer going to pop out?”
“Hopefully, it’ll just be a door this time!”
The rumbling ceased, and, as if in response to Richelle’s wish, a dark passageway appeared within the wall. It was only wide enough for one person at a time.
“Well then.”
“Shall we go?”
They exchanged glances. Richelle extended her hand, and Alan, a little awkwardly, took it.
With Alan leading, they entered the passage.
The path was straight and not very long. Before long, they were stepping back into the light.
Only to stop, bewildered.
“The roses…”
“…They’re gone?”
She sniffed the air. Her senses weren’t dulled—there was truly no rose scent that permeated the entire mansion here.
All that greeted them was the dry air and long stone walls stretching along each side, with not a single plant in sight.
It hardly seemed fitting to call it the ‘Fifth Garden’. Richelle glanced around, puzzled.
‘There are drawings on the wall.’
Etched into the stone with something sharp, the drawings were disturbing. A massive head devouring a person’s leg, a man chopping off a horse’s head with an axe, a woman dancing atop a mountain of jewels…
They looked like scenes from a child’s nightmare, grotesque and twisted, covering every inch of the stone walls.
“This is unsettling…”
Alan murmured, and Richelle felt the same.
Regardless, they had only one way forward. They hurried their steps through the nightmarish gallery, finally reaching the end of the path.
Alan cautiously peered around the corner, his shoulders tensing.
“This place…”
