The laboratory was filled with the smell of failure.
Taylor was trying to stabilize the "Moonlight" compound she had received from the Professor in Ravenswood. It wasn't going well. The liquid kept turning brown instead of silver.
"Dammit," Taylor hissed, slamming her charcoal stick on the table. "The valence shell isn't expanding! Why? Is the temperature too low?"
[Ding!]
[System Message: It's not the temperature. It's your brain.]
[Intelligence Check: Failed.]
[Commentary: You are trying to mix a high-level alchemical agent with a spoon made of dirty wood. Are you stupid? Or just rustic?]
Taylor stared at the blue holographic screen.
"Did... did the System just roast me?"
[System Message: I am an interface designed to assist the 'Greatest Estate Developer'. Currently, I am assisting a toddler playing with chemicals. Please try not to drink the beaker.]
"Shut up!" Taylor shouted at the air. "I'm doing my best!"
"Who are you talking to, My Angel?" **Ria** asked, popping up from under the table with a plate of macaroons. "Are the ghosts bullying you? Shall I kick them?"
"Just the interface," Taylor muttered. "It's got an attitude problem."
***
[The Arrival]
Outside, the tranquility of Oakhaven was shattered by a sound.
It wasn't an explosion. It wasn't a scream.
It was... Opera music?
A massive carriage, painted in garish gold and pink, was rolling up the main drive. It was pulled by four white horses that had been dyed pink.
"What is that abomination?" **Ren** asked, squinting from his post on the roof (he was still stuck near the chimney).
The carriage stopped in the courtyard—right in front of Taylor's pride and joy: The Concrete Septic Tank.
The door opened. A red carpet unrolled itself (literally, it seemed to be animated).
A man stepped out.
He was tall. Impossibly tall. He wore a suit made of peacock feathers and a white porcelain mask that covered the upper half of his face. He held a giant pair of golden calipers in one hand.
[System Analysis]
[Name: Viscount Valerius]
[Class: Biomancer / Flesh Sculptor]
[Obsession: "True Beauty"]
[Threat Level: Fabulously Dangerous]
Valerius looked at the castle. Then, he looked at the concrete toilet.
He fell to his knees.
"OH! THE HUMANITY!" Valerius wept, his voice booming like a tenor. "Who?! Who has scarred the face of Mother Earth with this... GREY WART?!"
He pointed a gloved finger at the septic tank.
"It has no curves! No soul! It is... GEOMETRIC!"
He stood up, trembling with rage.
"I, Valerius, the Royal Aesthete, cannot allow this! I must prune this ugliness!"
He snapped his fingers. The vines on the castle wall suddenly writhed, growing thorns the size of daggers.
***
[The Critique]
Taylor ran out into the courtyard, followed by her chaotic entourage.
"Hey!" Taylor shouted. "Don't insult the toilet! That 'grey wart' stopped the cholera outbreak!"
Valerius turned. He looked down at Taylor.
"Cholera is natural," Valerius sniffed. "Death is part of the cycle. But *concrete*? That is an aesthetic crime."
He walked toward her. He moved strangely—gliding, as if his legs were made of liquid.
He stopped inches from Taylor. He raised his golden calipers and clamped them gently around Taylor's waist.
"Hmph," Valerius muttered, reading the measurement. "24 inches. Acceptable. But the symmetry is off."
He tapped the corset.
"Artificial constriction," he tutted. "You are squeezing the flower before it blooms. Tacky."
"Get your tools off me," Taylor snapped, slapping the calipers away. "Who are you?"
"I am the new villain," Valerius whispered, leaning down. "Or rather... the new *critic*. The King has sent me to inspect the estate. And I find it... lacking."
He looked at **Violet**.
"Too sharp," he critiqued.
He looked at **Ria**.
"Too spicy," he sneered.
He looked at **Luna**.
"Too dusty," he dismissed.
Then he looked back at Taylor.
"I will give you fifty days," Valerius declared, striking a Jojo-esque pose. "Fifty days to make this estate *beautiful*. If you fail... I will turn you all into topiary bushes. Living, breathing, screaming bushes."
"Topiary?" Taylor asked, bewildered. "You're threatening me with gardening?"
"Biomancy, darling," Valerius giggled. He touched a nearby guard.
*POOF.*
The guard turned into a rosebush. His face was still visible in the bark, screaming silently.
"See?" Valerius smiled beneath his mask. "Art."
He climbed back into his carriage.
"Fifty days, Engineer. Impress me. Or become fertilizer."
The carriage rolled away, leaving a trail of rose petals and terrified silence.
***
[The Aftermath]
Taylor stared at the guard-bush.
"He turned Steve into a plant," Taylor whispered. "He literally turned Steve into a plant."
**[System Message: And you're still struggling to make soap. Look at the difference in skill level. It's embarrassing, really.]**
"Shut up, System!"
"My Lady," Luna whimpered, poking the Steve-Bush. "Do I... do I water him?"
"Yes, Luna. Water Steve."
Taylor rubbed her temples.
"New plan," she said to her team. "We're not just building a kingdom. We're fighting a fashion critic with god-powers."
She looked at the trail of pink petals.
"And I have a feeling he's going to be annoying."
[Ding!]
[New Arc Started: The War of Aesthetics]
[Main Villain: Viscount Valerius]
[Time Limit: 50 Days]
[Objective: Don't get turned into a shrub.]