8:00 AM sharp.
The morning sun shone brightly, streaming through the large glass windows to illuminate the hall. But everyone’s mood hadn’t improved.
Klafa’s body lay untouched where it was. York, Ellen, and Anhans stood around it. Chloe, her face no longer quite so pale, focused intently on maintaining the defensive magic. Liliana, Molly, and Nia still huddled in the corner, their faces ashen. Lux guarded the three to stop them from doing anything rash. Nerlis stood at the intersection of the groups, in a delicate position.
York’s gaze swept over the corpse. He murmured, “The heart’s been ripped out. No obvious external injuries elsewhere. Likely a one-hit kill. And—”
Anhans crouched down, gesturing at the horrifying wound.
“This size… just right to extract the heart ‘intact.’ Why?”
“So the culprit wanted Father’s ‘undamaged’ heart?”
“Must be a freak! And this cut’s so neat…”
“Neat enough?” York cut in sharply. “Ellen, you know weapons best. What made this?”
“Uh… unless it’s a master, big weapons like swords can’t make such a clean cut. Judging by the precision… definitely something small and sharp. A dagger or knife.”
“…If I recall, Father’s two Shadow Attendants wield daggers.”
“…”
During the Harvest Festival, all servants and guards were on leave. Only the head of the household had two Shadow Attendants—rarely seen, hiding in shadows to guard him. Now the head was dead, and the Shadow Attendants were gone. Only two possibilities: they were killed, or they were the culprits.
“I’m saying, this basically confirms the Shadow Attendants turned traitor,” Anhans shrugged. “They’ve got strength, weapons, stealth skills, and endless opportunities—”
“—But no motive.”
“Huh?”
A soft, feminine voice cut in. Everyone froze, realizing it was Nerlis. Unnoticed, she’d moved beside the body, observing closely.
“…What did you say, Nerlis?”
“It’s Nerlis.”
“Whatever. I hate being interrupted when I talk—”
“Nerlis is right. If it was the Shadow Attendants, what’s their motive?” York interrupted. “As eldest son, I’ll be clear: Shadow Attendants are vetted thoroughly. Spotless pasts. The Zerah Family treats them extremely well. Bribing them is near impossible—not to mention loyalty magics and bindings. Betraying us holds zero benefit.”
“But… it’s not impossible! And—” Anhans, flustered, scanned the room. His eyes lit up on the corpse. “—Right! The heart. They must’ve wanted it for some evil purpose—”
“Enough!” York snapped, uncharacteristically impatient.
“Why yell? I’m just stating possibilities!”
“No… sorry. Drop it. We need clues—Chloe!”
“Huh!?”
“You know magic to recreate traces someone left, right?”
“Trace-finding magic? Not my specialty…”
“Stop pressuring my sister Chloe. I’ll do it,” Anhans frowned. “But don’t expect much. Too many people trampled this hall since dawn. And if your head died last night, it’s been too long…”
“Less talk. Get on with it.”
Anhans shrugged, placed his hand on the floor, and chanted silently. Pale purple ripples swept across the tiles. When they faded, countless shoe-shaped light spots overlapped chaotically.
“See? Useless. These are all footprints since last night. Finding clues here’s a miracle.”
“Can’t filter them by time?”
“I can’t.”
“Chloe?”
“I said, I don’t know trace-finding magic…”
“Damn… then who else…”
---
“He” watched York scratch his hair in frustration, barely stifling a laugh.
Terrible. Keeping a straight face was so hard. One chuckle would give him away.
Guess away, fools. Pin false blame on someone—
But a girl’s voice cut through.
“I… have a way. Want to hear it?”
---
“Nerlis? You have a way?”
“Mm. To find the culprit’s traces.”
At her words, every gaze locked onto me.
“High-level trace-finding magic?”
“A different method. With these.”
I willed it. Insects flew from my sleeve, landing on my fingertips. They looked like rice weevil larvae with dragonfly wings—incongruous yet harmless.
“…Just these bugs?” Anhans sneered.
“Low-tier magic beasts, but their scent and recognition skills are sharp. Like this—”
The insects crawled onto my boot sole, wriggled, then flew to specific footprints, swirling eagerly. I knew they wanted rewards, but not yet.
“Nerlis… so where they swirl, those are your footprints?”
“Yes. Let them pass over everyone’s shoes. They’ll distinguish all traces by scent and shape. The leftovers are the culprit’s.”
“Then hurry!”
“Wait—I must explain. They’re not forced labor. I treat them as friends, so rewards are needed.” I pulled out a paper packet of diced dried meat. Tossed pieces to them. Their soft bodies split open lengthwise, revealing sharp white teeth. They swallowed the oversized chunks effortlessly, wriggling contentedly.
“—Carnivorous. And they don’t avoid human flesh.”
“…”
“So never provoke them. They bite and spray acid. Not fatal… but disfigurement is possible.”
“…”
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
York sighed. “Fine. Just stay still. I’m uneasy… but let’s try.”
“What’s this! Why listen to this bug girl!”
“Quiet, Liliana!”
“Hmph…”
Scolded by her brother, Liliana shrank back, then snorted loudly and looked down.
---
The work finished quickly. The insects crawled over the men’s shoes fine (though Lux frowned at the mess, and Nia flinched). The women resisted more—especially Liliana—but it succeeded.
Most footprints were eliminated. Only two remained.
One was Klafa’s.
The other… undoubtedly a Shadow Attendant’s.
But it helped little.
First, two Shadow Attendants existed, but only one’s prints were here.
Second, the prints only led here—from upstairs, likely the head’s room—with no exit path.
“What’s the point… all for nothing,” Anhans sighed disdainfully.
“Don’t say that. New questions: where’s the other Shadow Attendant? Why not act together? Why did prints stop at Father?”
“Might be solvable.”
Nerlis let the insects land on the Shadow Attendant’s prints, crawling as if collecting samples.
“Scent samples collected… begin the search, bugs.”
They took off, circled once, then flew straight to a spot. Everyone followed until they landed on—
“…the cupboard?”
An ornate cupboard stood on the hall’s side. Upper shelves held decorations; the lower cabinet was solid wood, its door always shut. The insects wriggled on the door.
“…?”
An ominous premonition rose in every heart.
Why did the Shadow Attendant’s trail end here?
The closest person was—
“…Molly, open the door, please?”
“Uh… okay…”
Her face ashen, she bit her lip, gripped the handle, and yanked.
Her scream tore through the hall.
Two twisted corpses—the Shadow Attendants—slid out and crashed to the floor.
