Arknights: The Deathless Black Snake Just Wants to Live a Simple Life.

"This kid's Originium skills are quite fascinating."

While Kashchey comforted Ino and Sasha, he quietly slipped a trace of his consciousness into their minds.

Children who could survive the freezing tundra were certainly no ordinary beings.

Moreover, he had seen both of them before—in [memory].

Sensing Ino's abilities—to heal others and manipulate their Originium skills as a host—along with a hint of madness buried deep in the boy's heart, Kashchey couldn't help but develop a fondness for such talent.

"This child may very well become the next Duke of Kashchey."

The shortened lifespan caused by Oripathy didn't concern Kashchey.

With advanced medical technology, even if Oripathy couldn't be fully cured, its symptoms could be eased.

What was an astronomical treatment cost for the average person meant little to an immortal who had accumulated wealth and influence over thousands of years.

Having lived with Kashchey for over a decade, Talulah had learned to recognize the subtle signs beneath his facade. Relying on instinct, she sharply sensed the malice hidden behind his gentle demeanor.

She stepped forward, forcibly taking the two children away from Kashchey and instructing Alina to leave with them.

"Mr. Patriot, Yelena—could you please step out for a moment? I have something important to discuss with Duke Kashchey."

Sensing the tension in the air, Patriot and Frostnova quietly exited the house.

Kashchey remained seated, still wearing his gentle expression.

"Why, my dear daughter, are you jealous?" he teased. "You've grown up, yet still act like a child upset that someone's stolen your old father's affection?"

He smiled, keeping up his kind and composed act.

---

There was a time, when Talulah was still very young, that a little girl named Natalya Rostova stayed for a while at the Duke's mansion in Kashchey.

Back then, to properly care for the young Talulah, the grand Duke's estate had been deliberately made to appear modest.

Ordinary crystal chandeliers, plain golden candlesticks, a garden with uninspired scenery—and even the adorable little snakes were restricted from roaming freely.

It was dreadful. Completely at odds with Kashchey's refined aesthetic preferences.

But he had no other choice. For the healthy growth of the young Draco, he had no choice but to reduce his magnificent estate to something indistinguishable from a typical noble's manor.

"Raising a child is such a hassle," he often mused. "Is this the kind of hardship short-lived species must constantly endure?"

He had never had children of his own.

After all, even the death of a beloved pet snake had left him depressed for quite some time.

So he never took the initiative to adopt a child.

Initially, he hadn't planned to raise Talulah either—he had considered giving her to Snake Scale to care for instead.

But the bloodline of the Draco was simply too tempting.

This body held not only a powerful claim to Victoria's legacy but also possessed extraordinary potential.

When Kashchey had finally molded Talulah into a refined and dignified young lady, a rising noble named Andrey Rostov came to him with a surprising request—he wished to temporarily entrust his daughter to Kashchey's care.

Kashchey was genuinely taken aback at the time.

"A noble… willingly entrusting his own child to me for protection?"

It was common knowledge among most reputable nobles that the Duke of Kashchey was capable of transferring his consciousness into other bodies. Kashchey himself had never restricted the spread of such rumors.

Although many nobles had once prayed for the Duke's protection to preserve their family legacies in times of crisis, none had truly dared to leave their offspring in the household of an immortal who could, in theory, take over anyone's body.

Who could say for certain whether their own child might one day become the next vessel for the Duke of Kashchey?

Kashchey's reputation was, for the most part, considered "good"—at least among the nobility. He rarely took over the bodies of his enemies, let alone those who sought his aid. But still, the fear lingered.

No one dared to gamble their family's future on that "probably."

So when Kashchey's offer of sanctuary was met with polite silence and tacit rejection, it became something of an unspoken rule—his offer existed, but none would take it.

Until one day, a newly-promoted nobleman broke that unspoken rule.

He was young and bold—some would say reckless—with none of the ingrained caution or inherited fear that weighed down the old noble houses.

"A man like Duke Kashchey, who stands high above all of us—would he really bother going to such lengths just to seize my meager fortune?" he had reasoned. "If he wanted it, he could simply take it outright."

This young noble was caught in the middle of a vicious power struggle. The old nobles, still clinging desperately to the last shreds of their dignity, had already taken everything from him. His wife had been poisoned by them.

"I can't allow my daughter to be dragged into this anymore."

"And besides… maybe Duke Kashchey really is as great as the old legends say."

When Kashchey accepted his request without hesitation, the nobleman brought his daughter—much younger than Talulah—on the very same day.

She was a delicate girl with white hair and heterochromia, dressed like a porcelain doll in an elaborate frilled gown. Timid and small, she hid nervously behind her father's legs.

Kashchey offered her a gentle smile, easily soothing her unease.

"Thanks to Talulah," he thought with satisfaction, "I've now completely mastered the art of childcare."

In the estate's private sword training hall, Talulah swung her blade over and over again—punishment for failing a lesson. Each strike sent beads of sweat flying through the air as she followed Kashchey's command to swing a thousand times.

And as she moved, her heart grew cold.

It was as if… something precious had been quietly taken away from her.

---

Back in the room, Talulah ignored Kashchey's mocking tone. She stepped forward, silently closing the distance between herself and the man seated in the wooden chair.

"Kashchey…"

She looked down at the man who was still, at least in name, her father.

Kashchey looked up at her, smiling kindly as always.

"Just now," she asked, her voice low and steady, "were you trying to take that little boy's body?"

Kashchey's expression didn't change in the slightest.

"Oh, my dear daughter," he chuckled, "why would you think such terrible things about your old father? Do you really see me as the kind of villain who wouldn't even spare a child?"

His denial came easily, smoothly.

But Talulah forced a smile—one that didn't reach her eyes.

Kashchey's disguise was so perfect that even Talulah—who had lived with him for so many years—couldn't discern the truth behind his words.

She couldn't tell if what he said reflected his real thoughts, but she hoped, deep down, that it did.

"…Yeah…"

She mumbled, unsure why she suddenly felt so nervous.

"Well, I'm sorry. I just thought… maybe you had bad intentions toward those two kids. I mean, I've never seen you act so kind toward children you've never even met…"

"It's alright, Talulah. There are still many things you don't understand~"

Kashchey remained composed, smoothly shifting the topic.

"You know, I even knitted a sweater for you myself. Just don't let your subordinates find out! If they knew you were wearing something handmade by the Duke himself, they'd be sick with jealousy."

He handed over a neatly wrapped package.

"Stop being so narcissistic, you egomaniac who writes your own legends! Who would care about a sweater you made?"

Talulah scoffed, but still accepted the package in her hands.

"You'll be staying for a few more days, right?"

"I'm leaving tomorrow."

"…"

"What's wrong? Can't bear to part with me? It seems I didn't love you in vain."

"…Tch. It's Not like that..."

"Oh? Is that so?"

"Who would be reluctant to leave you? Just hurry up and go!"