The utterly exhausted Jones finally managed to gather nine-headed deer together, piling them up into what looked like a small mountain.
Is this territory abundant? Not at all. Strictly speaking, there isn’t a single fertile spot on the Kolin Peninsula.
The area is indeed surrounded by dense woods, but most of the trees are peculiar and useless—inedible, impractical, with the sole characteristic of being extraordinarily resilient. As for the common deer usually found in forests, they’re scarce to the point of misery. Fortunately, the territory is expansive enough that, with careful searching, it’s still possible to find some.
"That damn Hydra! Eating this much and somehow not bursting!" Jones cursed venomously. Dora stood cautiously nearby, watching.
Cursing aside, Jones dutifully loaded up the deer two at a time, transporting them toward the castle. Why two at a time? Because bats only have two feet.
Nine-headed deer, requiring two people to go back and forth twice—and one of them had to make a third trip. This made Jones even more furious.
"Why couldn’t it be eight heads instead?"
Regardless, the deer were finally delivered, dumped right at the castle’s front gates.
"Madam, your dinner has arrived. Would you like to come out and eat?"
One of the Hydra’s heads peered out the window from afar. "Bring it inside. I’m not comfortable eating outdoors."
"Bring it... inside?" Jones’ eye twitched uncontrollably.
Resigned, he and Dora could only drag all the nine-headed deer into the castle.
After working tirelessly to collect the deer, the Hydra gulped them down in one go, each head swallowing a chunk in a single bite—bones and all.
Jones and Dora stared, slack-jawed.
"Alright, now I’m going to sleep. You can start preparing the next meal."
"And make sure to clean the castle. We need a clean and comfortable environment."
"Next meal, I’d like beef."
The heads almost started bickering, but fortunately, one stepped in to take charge: "Let’s have some beef, fish, and rabbit then!"
"Great idea—it’s a relief we have two servants now. Perhaps we won’t need to argue over meals anymore."
"I don’t care; I’m on a diet anyway."
As they spoke, all nine heads simultaneously turned to stare at Jones.
Cold sweat ran down Jones’ back as he faced the Hydra, which dwarfed him manyfold. He coughed awkwardly. "Uh... Madam, may I ask, do you eat this much every meal? Those nine deer earlier weighed over a ton..."
"Yes, every meal," the nine heads replied in unison.
Jones forced a polite yet embarrassed smile. "So you eat at least five tons of food per day then?"
"No, at least not now."
"In fact, we’re currently hibernating. We just woke up for a midnight snack."
"During winter, you only need to prepare one meal for us a week."
"After hibernation ends, we’d like meals once every three days. Or you can stick to weekly meals, but the portions must be large."
"In autumn, we eat more frequently—at least one meal a day."
"Alright, that’s certainly good news. Oh no, I mean, I’m delighted to serve you, Madam," Jones responded with a smile.
It was probably the best news he’d heard in days. One meal every few days—considering how lazy the Hydra appeared, it seemed likely it’d sleep immediately after eating. That meant while it slept, the castle would entirely belong to Jones!
Absolutely wonderful!
Thinking about it, Jones even felt a tinge of excitement.
"Good, you may go now. We’re about to start sleeping."
"Also, don’t even think about attacking us while we’re asleep, or your death will be a truly hideous one."
"At that point, our only quarrel will be over which head gets to eat you."
"Of course not! I’m your servant—why would a servant ever attack you? Right, Madam?" Jones retorted eagerly.
After giving Jones one last glance, the nine heads slowly began to retract. The snake’s body undulated gradually, producing a faint rustling sound as it moved. Ultimately, the Hydra curled itself into a massive "snake pancake." From afar, it looked like a huge pile of excrement sitting in the castle’s main hall.
The castle finally descended into silence.
Jones tiptoed closer, stretching his neck to inspect. After a long pause, he waved his hand, then reached out cautiously to touch the smooth scales of the Hydra.
"What are you trying to do?"
One of the heads opened its eyes abruptly, startling Jones into backing away several steps.
"Madam, I was just... checking to see if you were asleep."
"I can fall asleep anytime by closing my eyes, but one of the nine heads is always awake. Does that answer satisfy you?"
"What does satisfaction have to do with this?"
The awakened head slowly closed its eyes again, muttering, "I’m spelling it out for you just so I don’t eat you too quickly. After all, having two servants is quite convenient. Go work—don’t get any funny ideas."
"Understood, Madam." Jones wiped his sweat off in a hurry and turned to Dora. "Let’s start cleaning."
"Alright." Dora nodded heavily, clearly resigned.
There was so much to do. With a serpent living here, how clean could this place possibly be?
Especially after the Hydra went into hibernation, the entire castle fell silent. With the tension faded, the pungent odor became even more pronounced. Cleaning would have to begin with the "toilet"...