Chapter 05: The Murder of Overd
Leeward's eyes widened to their limits. He exhaled a long, heavy breath until a cold numbness spread through his entire body.
The sentence *"My husband has been murdered"* could not have come at a worse time. His mind immediately ignited with complex calculations; every plan he had meticulously crafted was crumbling before his eyes.
*"Just yesterday he was with me in his office... only a few hours ago... Damn it, this is the worst possible timing."*
The situation was stacked against him. He didn't mourn Overd's death so much as he was shocked by its timing. It wasn't an emotional shock, but a calculated, cold, and harsh realization.
He clenched his fist tightly, trying to maintain a natural reaction. He didn't fully believe the news yet and needed to verify it for himself. He stared at Overd's wife, who was running in a frantic, jagged path, nearly stumbling over her own feet. Everyone on the street turned toward her with looks of confusion and questioning.
From the direction she was running, it was clear she was heading for the village's administrative headquarters. Leeward knew that Overd loathed his wife, and her hatred for him was no less intense. Thus, her explosive reaction to his death seemed strangely theatrical.
Yet, he didn't dwell on it; even hatred doesn't prevent shock.
*"I must rush to the farm. I need to free the Stone Cat now."*
Certain that she was going to the authorities, he decided to stay one step ahead. Freeing the Stone Cat was a primary precaution. He hadn't confirmed Overd's death yet, but being proactive was always better than falling into a deeper catastrophe.
He tried to walk lightly, but his feet felt heavy, and the tension was visible in his features.
He hadn't killed Overd.
*"I didn't even touch him... I had the intent, yes, but I never acted on it. All last night I was only thinking... I didn't even sleep well."*
A war broke out within his thoughts. He began to replay the tape of his memory, mercilessly.
He remembered sitting in front of the slave quarters on the farm, drinking some wine with **Nayer**, a slave he knew. Then he remembered the maid who entered Overd's room late at night carrying his dinner, and then leaving afterward. That alone was evidence that Overd was still alive at that moment.
This temporarily diverted suspicion from Leeward, provided that Nayer would testify for him, along with the maid. Afterward, Leeward had fallen asleep first among the group, resting on a wooden rocking chair in front of the slave hut.
He didn't recall waking up during the night, nor leaving his spot for any reason. Until morning, when he woke up early, fed the Stone Cat some meat, and ensured no one saw him doing so. Then, he had headed straight to the Village Headquarters, paid his freedom fees, and received his official citizenship papers.
A few minutes later, Leeward reached the farm gates. They were wide open.
The farm was operating perfectly normally.
This struck him as deeply unsettling.
He had heard the news of Overd's death from his wife, yet no one here seemed to know. Everything proceeded as usual, wrapped in a stifling silence. A terrifying silence that increased his anxiety... yet, at the same time, brought a sliver of calm.
In that moment, Leeward realized: *"This is my chance."*
He stepped toward the sheep pen in the center. Those sheep were no longer his—not anymore. He opened the wooden gate, and the sheep bolted in a panic, colliding and scurrying throughout the circular pen.
He commanded the Stone Cat in his mind to come.
And it came.
Its fur was a brownish hue leaning toward light gray; it looked like a cat but was the size of a small dog. The creature showed a mix of surprise and joy at its master's arrival. Leeward didn't linger; he picked it up immediately.
*"I must leave... I'll need you later."
The farm was surrounded by wooden fences, and at its far edge lay empty agricultural lands. That was where Leeward intended to release the Stone Cat.
The creature fidgeted in his arms, as if sensing the gravity of the moment. As he walked, he spotted several slaves working in different sectors:
Some were driving cattle to the stables,
Another was cleaning dung from the ground,
Others were feeding the horses.
The daily rhythm of slave labor created a familiar, almost beautiful tempo. But behind that rhythm lay a heavy, hidden tension within the silence.
No one spoke.
Only the sound of the light wind, the footsteps of animals, and the breath of a farm moving unconsciously toward a fate it didn't yet know.
He showed no interest in them. At that moment, his focus was entirely on freeing the Stone Cat first. He accelerated his pace, avoiding their gazes, ensuring no one actually saw him.
He reached a narrow alley between two wooden huts. He walked through it quickly, the heavy stench of garbage filling every corner. Some farm dogs were sleeping there. As soon as they sensed him, they rose and began barking from a distance, some lunging toward him.
"Go away!" he shouted at them.
But they were cursed dogs; they didn't stop, only retreating slightly while continuing their relentless barking. He pressed on until he reached a wooden fence, roughly as tall as he was.
He lifted the Stone Cat over the fence and whispered into its mind:
"Find a pack of Stone Cats and stay with them until I call for you."
Then, he dropped it over the wall.
The cat landed lightly on its feet and bolted across the fields, heading toward a place unknown.
*"If Overd's death is real, this is a massive problem... I just got my freedom, and I will be the prime suspect in this case. On top of that, the authorities will come looking for a missing fortune... The troubles are starting to pour in, one after another."*
Leeward returned directly through the narrow, rotting alley. He reached the central clearing and headed straight for the slave quarters. He entered and called out to **Nayer**, who was still sprawled out on sacks of burlap.
"Oi, get up. I've secured my freedom; I'm an official citizen now. Let's go celebrate at a nearby tavern."
He acted with absolute normalcy. He hadn't confirmed Overd's death yet. If the man wasn't dead, Leeward would simply carry on as if nothing had happened.
What he heard might have just been a fleeting incident.
But if he were dead… the catastrophe would be all too real.
Nayer half-rose, looking at him with weary eyes, staring at the crooked, jagged grin on Leeward's face.
*"Gods… what did I do in my life to wake up to an ugly face like yours?"* Nayer muttered to himself with a sigh before fully sitting up. His hair was short and black, and his teeth were stained.
"Congratulations, then. But what about Overd? You know he won't be pleased with me drinking this early. He'll be furious if he finds out."
"Don't worry about that. I'll speak with him. I'll tell him I'm the one who dragged you along."
Leeward felt a slight sting in his heart at the mention of Overd's name, but his expression remained perfectly mask-like. Nayer wiped his face and stood up.
"Fine, let's go have a drink to celebrate. Oh, and I just remembered—where do you plan on going after this? Overd might kick you off the farm."
"I don't know yet; I haven't thought that far. For now, all I want is to celebrate being a free man... Hahaha!"
Nayer smirked—a repulsive look. "Damn it, you got your freedom and I'm left here like I'm cursed. But at least I'll get drunk before that old man Overd gives me more annoying orders."
"Exactly. Don't overthink it. Let's have a double toast when we get there... Hahaha!"
Nayer laughed, raising a hand as they both exited the slave quarters.
*"You cheap hypocrite..."* Leeward thought. *"I'll buy you with a cup of wine so you can testify that I didn't kill Overd. That's enough for now. I'll let things take their course... Perhaps Overd isn't even dead, or maybe his wife has finally lost her mind from her sheer hatred of him."*
It was clear that their relationship was built solely on mutual interest and deep-seated hypocrisy. The two left the farm quickly, heading toward a nearby tavern. A wooden sign hung over the entrance:
**Noss's Tavern**
Named after its owner.
Only fifteen minutes later, a group of guards accompanied by the Village Head entered the farm. All of Overd's slaves were gathered in the clearing, while his wife wailed and wept without pause until her throat was dry.
As soon as the Village Head opened the door to Overd's room, a sharp, metallic stench of blood hit him. He raised his hand to his nose, his thick mustache only partially filtering the smell.
When the door swung fully open, he whispered a single phrase:
"My Gods..."
Overd was slumped in his wooden chair at a grotesque angle. His chest and neck were riddled with multiple puncture wounds. There was no order. No pattern.
Just... **pure randomness.**
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