"Mages? But don’t mages kill with spells? Then how do you explain the master’s corpse?"

The master’s body bore no other injuries—not even a hint of released Arcane Power. He’d been cleanly slain by a single blade. Mages usually fought from range; their frail physiques made them terrible at close combat.

A moment’s thought confirmed this wasn’t a mage’s work. Standard mage spells couldn’t create knife-like wounds. Only spatial magic could inflict sharper cuts—but that wouldn’t leave a blade mark at all. It’d split a person cleanly in two.

Spatial magic, however, was forbidden. Beyond first-tier spells for personal storage, it ranked alongside time magic as taboo. If someone truly used it, Rein—a fellow mage—would never cover for them. Touching such taboos was unforgivable.

"This needs verification," Rein said. "But these markings on the ground—if I recall—are ancient runes for magic. I don’t know this Magic Circle’s purpose… Clean it up later, Mayor. Understood?"

"Understood!" The mayor wiped sweat from his brow, bowing deeply.

"Hold on," Sophia suddenly cut in, her voice sharp enough for Rein outside to hear clearly. "Isn’t it rash to blame mages so quickly?"

"Then who?"

"Sorceresses!"

"What?" The militiamen nearby grew visibly uneasy.

To understand sorceresses, one must recall the Dark Overlord. Five centuries ago, he nearly crushed humanity’s armies. Only a sacrifice by several mages sealed him away—but the location remained unknown.

Lately, leaks from that seal had spilled the Dark Overlord’s power. Men exposed turned into unspeakable black beasts. Women became sorceresses.

Sorceresses lived to exterminate humans. They’d commit any atrocity. Yet, reliant on Arcane Power, they sometimes ran low. Caught powerless, they’d be burned at the stake in the Holy See’s "heretic trials."

This blurred lines for common folk. Many female mages were wrongly executed, deepening the rift between the Magic Council and the Holy See.

"You claim sorceresses—but where’s your proof?"

"I have none yet. But your ‘evidence’ doesn’t prove mages did it either!"

Ancient runes weren’t exclusive to mages. The Holy See used them in rituals too. Even wandering Vindictive Knights might be implicated.

"Fine. If it’s a sorceress, why not poison the well? Far more efficient."

Sorceresses aimed to wipe out humans. Sneaking a knife murder made no sense when Nord’s single well supplied all water. Any sane sorceress would poison it first.

"I’m not a sorceress—I can’t guess her methods! And a mage wouldn’t be this stupid, leaving such an obvious Magic Circle! This feels like a sorceress framing mages!"

"...Honestly, neither group is trustworthy," Hill snapped, her voice thick with disdain for mages.

"You—"

"Mayor," Hill interrupted Sophia impatiently. "Show me those footprints."

"They’re in the field by the village entrance. Follow me—I’ll lead the way!"

***

Rein trailed the group to the field. Overnight snow had stopped, leaving crisp prints from last night.

He studied a nearby footprint. Human-like, yet with only three widely splayed toes—reminiscent of white wolves, but far larger than his own boot.

The rags wrapped around Rein’s feet offered little warmth against the snow’s bite. Spotting dry rice stalks on the bank, he tore some off to re-wrap his soles. As he did, he noticed something odd.

Arcane Power. Pure, untainted traces lingered in the stalks—unlike the sulfurous residue in the murder room. This was leftover evidence of a mage’s spell. But the power was faint, diluted by time. Too weak to trace its owner.

Still, it tied to those footprints. And Nord village definitely housed one—or more—mages.