"Never mind. We have more important matters to attend to!"
The mayor had been stammering, refusing to speak clearly. Hill knew this stalemate wouldn’t solve anything, so she offered him an out. He seized it immediately and began introducing the two outsiders he’d summoned.
First was a burly young man who looked no older than twenty. Though his face seemed slightly weathered, a boyish innocence lingered in his features. He wore an ordinary leather jacket, but a crude apron made of beast fur hung prominently at his waist.
According to the mayor, this was Charlie—a Kolcha hunter. Caught in a blizzard during a hunt two days prior, he’d taken temporary shelter here. He’d planned to leave this morning, but last night’s incident forced him to stay.
"Why didn’t you leave yesterday?" Hill asked.
"Well…" Charlie’s expression turned uneasy. "You see, the day I arrived was Kolcha’s Festival of Revelry. By our custom, returning home the next day is forbidden—it’d carry back all the bad luck we swept away for the year. I had no choice but to remain…"
"Then tell me what you were doing last night."
"After eating the dinner Mayor Rein provided, I went straight to sleep."
"Who can confirm that? And where did you sleep?"
"Uh… I stayed in the stable. If you need proof, ask the horses." He spread his hands helplessly. "But I swear, Reverend Hill, I’m just a simple hunter! I had no grudge against them!"
"We’ll revisit that later. Now, the other person…"
"Ah… this one…"
The second figure appeared to be a woman. Her most striking feature was her extremely long, unkempt hair—thick bangs obscured most of her face. She wore flimsy sleepwear that offered little warmth, huddled on a stool with her knees drawn to her chest, shivering as if frozen.
Her name was Rachel. Though her gender was assumed (no one had dared verify), she’d recently moved to the town. Notoriously reclusive, she rarely left her rented room or spoke to anyone.
"Rachel," Hill pressed gently, "what were you doing last night?"
"I… was in my room…" Rachel’s voice started loud but abruptly dropped, as if scolding herself for the volume. The last words were barely audible.
"Doing what in your room?"
"I… slept…"
"Can anyone confirm that?"
"No…" She shook her head, then stole a fleeting glance at Hill before lowering her gaze again.
Though evidence was scarce, Hill’s instincts leaned toward Rachel. But proof mattered.
"Let’s inspect your lodgings."
"Sure!" Charlie nodded readily. Rachel, however, shrank back with clear reluctance.
"Rachel," Hill’s tone sharpened, "are you refusing to let us search your room for evidence?"
"You… you don’t have a search warrant…"
The crowd froze for a split second—then burst into roaring laughter. To these villagers, the concept of legal procedure was absurd. Since when did officials need permission to search?
"Rachel! Are you the legendary Sorceress?!" someone eager for drama yelled. The crowd’s jeers swelled in agreement.
Rachel kept her head bowed, silent—a quiet rebellion.
"My apologies for the presumption," Hill said smoothly. "Let’s examine Charlie’s quarters first. Charlie—you won’t demand a warrant too, will you?"
"Of course not!" He puffed out his chest. "Search all you like. I’ve nothing to hide." His words carried a barb aimed squarely at Rachel.
Rein had noticed Rachel’s demeanor too. But she didn’t believe the girl was a Sorceress. Beneath Rachel’s fear, Rein sensed something else—a faint, almost imperceptible trace of refined Arcane Power.
Casually, Rein pulled a straw from her sleeve and tucked it between her teeth.
*Yep. Same scent.*
***
"This way—"
"Mayor," Hill cut in sharply, "did you truly think I’d waste time searching a stable?"
"Then your intention is…?"
"Lead us straight to Rachel’s room. Before she has time to prepare."
"An excellent point, Reverend Hill!"
"Spare me the flattery. It won’t work on me."
"Y-yes, of course!"
