Chapter 08: The Investigation.
The slaves were gathered inside a cattle pen on one of the farms. The ground was muddy, mostly covered in excrement, and a heavy, foul stench permeated the air. Yet, there were those among them who had grown accustomed to it—a strange blend of grass, earth, and manure; a scent that was pungent, yet familiar, and to some, almost comforting.
Headman Douville stood before them in the center of the pen, the open air gently tugging at his thick mustache. He looked up at the clear sky, realizing that time was slipping away faster than it should. More than three *Uqdahs* (three hours) had passed since Overd's body was discovered. He sighed deeply, then lowered his gaze toward the group. Their expressions were varied—utterly contradictory.
Three guards were verifying the slaves' statements, holding the documents that proved their status as Overd's property. One guard, a tall man, stepped forward.
"Headman, there are no contradictions in their accounts. All slaves entered the quarters around the tenth *Uqdah* last night. However, there is one detail… a slave named Leeward Kashin secured his freedom last night after a meeting with Overd. He didn't re-enter the quarters after that; he remained seated on a chair outside."
Douville whispered to himself, "So that's how it is…"
He then added in a low voice, "This turns the spotlight on him. Leeward Kashin… he gets his freedom, and then Overd is immediately murdered. But that alone isn't enough for a conviction."
Douville removed his hat and scratched his scalp; he felt a slight itch. *I need a barber…* he thought, before asking, "Who was the last person to enter Overd's office last night?"
The guard answered quickly, reviewing his notes: "According to their statements, it was a maid. After she and three others finished preparing dinner, she went in to see him around the eleventh *Uqdah*, before midnight. She said he didn't want to eat then and ordered it to be brought at midnight. She did exactly that, then went to sleep."
At that moment, Leeward and Nayer arrived with the guard sent to fetch them. Nayer was so drunk that the guard had to haul him along until they reached the group of fifteen slaves.
"Headman, I've brought the last two. They were at a nearby tavern," the guard reported.
Leeward showed no concern. He stood about five paces away from the Headman, deliberately refusing to line up with the slaves. This was intentional—to show he was no longer one of them, but merely a suspect in the case.
Douville noticed this and spoke in a firm tone, "That's fine. Why don't you take your place with the rest?"
He sensed a certain danger in Leeward's gaze, a feeling that this individual operated outside the usual patterns of obedience.
Leeward replied coldly, "I am no longer a slave. I secured my freedom last night. Why should I line up with them when I am not one of them? You may consider me a suspect, nothing more."
He didn't hide the truth of his freedom; he spoke it with stark honesty. It was an attempt to defuse suspicion, not increase it. However, the Headman narrowed his eyes.
"Doesn't that just increase the suspicion toward you? You get your freedom, and then Overd is killed immediately after."
Doubt intensified in Douville's eyes. Was this a man speaking the truth with confidence because he was innocent? Or because he was a master at manipulating facts? He couldn't tell.
"You are Leeward Kashin, correct?" Douville said. "I want you to provide me with everything you did last night… but wait a moment."
He looked behind him, past the short wooden fence surrounding the pen. There stood Jishi, Investigator Org, and the Special Overseer, Ogi Noor. They had arrived after Ogi summoned Investigator Org and crossed paths with Jishi on the way.
It wasn't a matter of friendship; Jishi simply wanted to witness the investigation, hoping the culprit would be found quickly—though that seemed a distant hope now. In truth, Jishi had already begun preparing for his brother's burial and securing the official death certificate, but he delayed to watch the inquiry with his own eyes.
Investigator Org was a man with graying hair, though his features remained youthful despite being forty. The reason was clear: his meticulous grooming and appearance made him seem much younger.
"The investigation begins now," Douville said finally. "Guard, take Leeward's statement and record it accurately, then compare it with the other slaves."
With that, he turned and left the pen.
"Understood, Headman," the guard replied. He pulled out a sheet of paper and a quill, approaching Leeward. He began to ask questions in a precise, methodical order…
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The key figures gathered in Overd's office: Headman Douville, Investigator Org, Special Overseer Ogi, and the influential farmer, Jishi Kantum Monoth. Douville stepped forward, his voice heavy with concern. "This crime remains utterly shrouded in mystery; even Overd's death was entirely unforeseen in these times".
As the Headman opened the door, a pungent, acrid stench erupted—far worse than before, as if it had fermented within the sealed room. Investigator Org coughed instantly, pulling a small white handkerchief from his pocket to cover his nose. Despite its faint, pleasant scent, he whispered to himself, *"The stench is still unbearable..."*.
Org surveyed the scene with expert eyes. "The situation is dire. These stabs are chaotic and completely erratic... the killer must have been in a desperate rush". He deduced this from the scattered lacerations across Overd's chest.
"He must have suffered greatly in that moment. Unfortunately, he was all alone," Jishi said, his voice breaking as grief gripped his heart. He recalled a conversation from years ago, when he had tried to convince Overd to train in **Spiritual Energy** and the **Stigma Bloodline** power, if only for self-defense.
But Overd's response had been simple: "I am no warrior, brother. I am merely a man seeking peace and farming, as our ancestors did".
Jishi clenched his fist. *"Damn it... if only he had listened. But it's too late now; regret is useless"*.
The Monoth family was fundamentally an agricultural lineage, unlike other martial clans. Nevertheless, they possessed a hereditary legacy: the **Stigma Blood power**. The heir to this ability becomes the clan leader. Their expertise, however, typically lay in foreign relations with nascent states or empires across the **Unified Continent**, rather than direct combat.
"We must begin preliminary measures," Ogi stated practically. "The investigation may take time. Perhaps we should cordon off the village and prevent anyone from leaving".
Org nodded. "I was about to suggest the same. We must prevent the criminal from escaping, though there is a chance they have already fled".
Jishi stepped forward, his gaze as sharp as a blade. "Even if they fled, I will hunt them to the edge of this world. Just identify them, Master Org, and I will bring them to justice".
Douville broke the heavy silence. "Special Overseer Ogi, take a contingent of guards and surround the village borders immediately. We must be proactive".
Once Ogi left, Org approached the corpse. He coated his hands in a faint spiritual aura that clung to his skin like a gray, heat-radiating glove. "I shall begin now". He probed the wounds; they were shallow, only about five centimeters deep. The weapon wasn't small, but the stabs were long and surface-level, suggesting the blade wasn't driven deep.
Org considered two possibilities: either the killer enjoyed the torture, or they were physically weak. To delve deeper, he reached into his flowing white robe and pulled out a sturdy brown leather belt. Inside were three gemstone-like **Ethereal Pieces**. He selected a crimson one.
Jishi was impressed. "He is wealthy enough to own three Ethereal Pieces... even I barely possess one for long-range combat".
Ethereal Pieces were core stones crafted from **Khamer Stone**, a rare material found in deep caves. It possesses the unique ability to absorb and store **Spiritual Energy** without altering its essence. It could even contain the power of **Stigma Blood** and its derived techniques. Because of its diamond-like spatial structure, Khamer Stone was the premier material for these artifacts.
Each piece held a specific power—such as Lightning or Shock Ethers—classified by their latent impact. Org gripped the crimson piece, surrounding it with his spiritual field. Crimson sparks began to dance around his palm. His aura revealed his true strength:
**Second Rank, Hardened Warrior, Third Tier—The Peak**.
"Ethereal Piece: **The Observer**... Activate!".
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