"Mayor! Mayor!"

Sophia knocked on the door but got no reply. The mayor seemed absent.

Rein glanced up at the second-floor window, left slightly ajar. *Should I just use magic to jump in?* he wondered. But in broad daylight, a twelve-year-old leaping five meters high? People would think they’d seen a ghost.

Just then, Sophia stepped back, sprinted forward, and slammed her shoulder against the heavy wooden door. It burst open—leaving her completely unharmed.

"Done! Now we can get in!" She drew the short sword from her back and charged inside, leading the way.

Rein sighed, rubbing his face, and followed.

For a mayor in this poor town, his house held surprisingly lavish items. Rein picked up a quill from the desk. Upon closer inspection, it wasn’t ordinary goose feather—it was a Fallen Angel’s plume. Worth as much as a fifth-tier Mage’s staff, this rare treasure was being used for mere writing.

*If you don’t know its true value, I’ll put it to proper use.* Rein slipped the feather into his clothes. The clueless mayor wouldn’t miss one quill.

"No one’s here… and nothing suspicious either," Sophia reported, emerging from an inner room and shaking her head.

Rein activated his Detection Spell. Fingerprints littered the desk—messy, chaotic. He tilted his head slightly, scanning the room. His gaze locked onto a plain vase. Unlike the antiques around it, this one stood out. Its surface was smudged with countless fingerprints, as if the mayor caressed it daily.

"Sophia. The vase on the left."

She lifted it as instructed. "What’s wrong with this?"

*Click.* The bookshelf behind the desk slid down, revealing a crude wooden door hidden behind it.

"Exactly as I thought…"

***

After searching Camille’s house with no leads, Hill stepped outside—only to bump into the mayor, sweating profusely despite the heat. The man’s face lit up like he’d found a savior. "Sir Hill! Disaster! Rachel escaped! That Sorceress got away!"

Hill frowned. Though he’d been puzzled about yesterday’s fight, he’d noticed Rachel. Reviewing this morning’s clues, he saw no real evidence against her. But fleeing? If she truly was a Sorceress, the blame would fall on him.

Oddly, the townsfolk showed no urgency to capture Rachel. This morning’s crowd had been indifferent to her trial. Only the mayor raged. Punishing a suspected Sorceress brought him no promotion or reward. And his expression… it betrayed something personal. *Like Rachel’s a thorn in his side.*

"No need to shout. I’ll issue the warrant when I return."

"But what if she comes back for revenge?"

"With me here, what’s there to fear? And you—a grown man, this cowardly? How did you even become mayor?"

The mayor sputtered.

Hill eyed him like he’d swallowed a fly, then turned back to Camille’s house. "Where’s Camille now? I need to find her."

"I… don’t know!"

"In this dump, you don’t know?" Hill’s simmering frustration finally boiled over. In Gloria, he could locate anyone within minutes. Here, in a town under a thousand souls? Even militiamen claimed ignorance—but the *mayor* too?

"Where could she possibly go? Sprout wings?"

"W-well, I’ll have them search again—"

"Then get moving!"

The mayor bolted like a pardoned prisoner, barking orders at idle militiamen before waddling after them, stopping every few steps to catch his breath.