"Ismur is my only child! Please help me, Honorable Court Wizards!" Mrs. Wells started crying, leaving Erin Syl at a total loss.
Erin quickly took out a silk handkerchief and handed it to the weeping mother. "Please don't worry, Mrs. Wells. We will definitely help you."
Damian calmly interjected. "Mrs. Wells, what did Ismur's friends say about that day? Have you questioned them?"
Mrs. Wells wiped her tears. "We've asked everyone. According to his friends, they didn't see him at all that day. The municipal guards from the Security Office also questioned them and got the exact same result."
Erin's emerald eyes darted around, and a sudden idea formed. "Mrs. Wells, could you give me something Ismur used frequently? Like a favorite toy. I have a runic spell that can track his scent."
Mrs. Wells was stunned for a moment. The Security Office had previously tried using mundane hounds to track Ismur without success. However, she figured a wizard's magic would be far more miraculous, so she hurried into Ismur's room and retrieved a toy.
Erin took the toy, which was shaped like a miniature wizard's staff designed to glow when swung.
Mentally constructing her spell model, Erin cast her Runic magic. A soft, magical light enveloped the toy staff.
Immediately, a cluster of pale golden magical lines separated from the toy, scattering in all directions and attaching themselves to various parts of the house.
"Wherever Ismur has lingered, this pale golden magic will stick," Erin explained proudly. "However, this house has too much of his scent concentrated in one place, so we can't determine a clear direction. Let's go outside and look."
The three of them followed the magical guidance, carefully tracing the path where Ismur had walked.
Along the way, Damian wanted to understand the Wells family's background, suspecting there might be hidden circumstances. "Mrs. Wells, where is your husband?"
Mrs. Wells sighed heavily. "He was with me looking for Ismur for the past few days. But yesterday, an urgent matter came up at his factory that required his immediate attention. He should be there right now."
Damian remembered sensing several large factories utilizing automated runic arrays when he first entered the Sixth Ring.
"How long have you lived on 116th Street?" Damian asked. "Have you recently offended anyone?"
Mrs. Wells hesitated before answering. "We haven't actually lived in the West District for very long. My husband's factory only started turning a major profit last year. After the business improved, we moved here. We shouldn't have offended any of our new neighbors."
Her words perfectly confirmed Damian's earlier deduction: this family was newly wealthy and had recently relocated.
"Found it!" Erin suddenly shouted.
Damian and Mrs. Wells quickly looked over. The golden-haired hybrid excitedly pointed at the pavement. "I've found the absolute last place Ismur stood!"
The pale golden magic emanating from the toy in Erin's hand was firmly attached to a specific patch of ground ahead. However, past that exact point, the magical trail completely vanished.
Mrs. Wells's face fell in profound disappointment. "Ismur did stay here. The Security Office's hounds also tracked him to this exact spot, but they couldn't find any more clues beyond it."
"Ah?" Erin awkwardly scratched her cheek. Her vaunted runic magic had only achieved the exact same result as a mundane dog.
At this moment, Damian calmly waved his hand. Without using his wand, he projected a layer of blue magic that swept over the ground.
He consciously camouflaged his HP tracking charm to look exactly like a standard Runic Detection wave.
Instantly, the ground illuminated with dense, overlapping footprints, wheel tracks, and various animal hoof prints. All the marks displayed slight color variations; a few emitted a bright, fresh glow, while most only gave off a faint, fading light.
Among them, a pair of distinct, child-sized footprints perfectly overlapped with Erin's golden magic.
"Eh? What kind of magic is this?" Erin asked curiously.
"It's just a modified Detection spell that highlights physical impressions," Damian lied smoothly. "The brighter the light, the more recent the tracks."
Damian closely observed the glowing marks on the pavement. "Ismur's final footprints are very messy."
He slowly circled the tracks, mentally reconstructing the ten-year-old's steps.
After a moment, Damian pointed to a set of heavy wheel tracks that matched the exact brightness of the child's footprints. "It seems Ismur was taken away from here by a carriage. The hoof prints and wheel tracks leading away share the exact same temporal brightness."
"So it really was a kidnapping, wasn't it?!" Erin clenched her right fist and smacked it into her left palm.
Erin turned to the mother. "Mrs. Wells, do you know much about your husband's business? Has he made any vicious rivals?"
Mrs. Wells, however, responded with unusual rationality. "How can business always be harmonious? Having competitors is normal, but our rivalries wouldn't escalate to kidnapping a child. Besides, if a business rival had taken him, they wouldn't have remained completely silent for six days."
Damian nodded in agreement. "She is right. If this were a standard ransom kidnapping, someone would have undoubtedly come forward with demands by now."
Damian carefully studied the smaller footprints again, his brow furrowing. "Ismur's final footprints were facing directly toward the carriage wheel tracks..."
"Judging by the spacing and weight distribution, when Ismur stood in front of that carriage, he made absolutely no backward or defensive movements..." Damian muttered.
"Was it someone he knew?" Damian theorized aloud, before quickly shaking his head. "Not necessarily. A sheltered ten-year-old might not instantly hide from a well-dressed stranger."
Suddenly, Damian's expression shifted. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught Mrs. Wells making a highly unnatural expression.
Did Mrs. Wells recognize a familiar set of footprints on the ground? Damian wondered.
Damian asked casually, "Mrs. Wells, do you have any thoughts on these overlapping tracks? Are there any footprints here that you recognize?"
Mrs. Wells stiffened, averting her eyes. "Aside from Ismur's footprints, I don't recognize any of the others."
Damian frowned inwardly. He was absolutely certain he hadn't seen it wrong. Mrs. Wells's expression had violently shifted just a moment ago, strongly indicating she recognized the kidnapper's tracks. Why would a grieving mother lie to protect her child's abductor?
It seems there's far more to this case than meets the eye, Damian concluded.
He decided he needed to interrogate Mr. Wells to see if the husband was hiding similar secrets. "Mrs. Wells, when exactly will your husband return?"
"Probably in a few more days. The factory is incredibly busy right now," Mrs. Wells answered vaguely.
Damian nodded slowly. "When Mr. Wells finally returns, please tell him to come find me at the Security Office. We will be leaving now."
"Eh? We're going back already?" Erin asked, clearly disheartened. "But the trail is broken!"
"I will be sure to tell him. Thank you, Honorable Court Wizards," Mrs. Wells said politely. However, her previously desperate attitude seemed to have grown noticeably colder.
After Damian and Erin turned and walked away, Mrs. Wells stood alone in the alley. She lowered her head, her expression completely obscured by the shadows.
"My Ismur..." After a long while, a choked, agonizing sob echoed through the empty street.
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