Chapter 22 – Gates of Fiery Hell and Whispers of the Soul

The pitch-black gates of Blackwood City loomed before them, radiating a cold aura that contrasted with the heat of the fires they were supposed to represent. The gate guards, who had been sharp earlier, now seemed changed. Their stiff faces softened slightly, and cold sweat began to appear on their temples, even though the air around the gate was still bone-chilling. Their suspicious gazes turned into more respectful looks, mixed with faint fear.

"Young Master Alex Argwager," said the guard who had previously questioned them, his voice now much friendlier, yet still slightly trembling. "Please accept our apologies for the inconvenience. We... we did not receive prior notification from His Excellency the Baron. Please, enter, Young Master." He immediately gestured to his comrade to open the large gate.

The heavy screech of rusty metal scraped the silence, as if the gates of hell were slowly opening. Alex observed the change in their attitude. Apparently, the Duke Argwager's crest indeed carried far more weight than he had expected. Or, perhaps, it was due to the Duke Argwager's own aura, which always managed to instill fear.

The carriage began to move in, passing through the majestic gate threshold. Immediately after passing through the door, the sight that greeted them was something Alex had never seen before. If before Blackwood had only faint smells of charcoal and metal, now the aroma was so thick, filling the air, mixed with a suffocating warmth. The air was filled with billowing steam from every building, creating a thin, mysterious fog.

Every house seemed to be made of sturdy black stone, with chimneys spewing thick smoke, towering into the perpetually overcast sky above this city. Blackwood City was a living image of a gigantic furnace. The heat was felt directly on the skin, as if they had just stepped into the womb of an active volcano. The roar of hammers clashing with iron echoed from all directions, becoming an eternal symphony that filled every corner of the city. Reddish-orange light emanated from cracks in the buildings, as if every house contained a fiery core.

"Good heavens..." Mira gasped, her eyes wide with amazement. "This... this is like a burning city!" Lena nodded, also with an amazed expression. "I've never seen anything like this. The air is so hot!" Finn, who had been terrified, now leaned behind Lena, his eyes wide in admiration of every detail. "There's smoke everywhere! And strange noises!"

In the streets, city life pulsed with extraordinary speed. Many short, sturdy, thick-bearded creatures—dwarves—were busy walking quickly, some carrying heavy tools, others pulling carts full of gleaming metal. Their faces were covered in soot, yet their eyes radiated a burning spirit.

They were blacksmiths, unparalleled craftsmen throughout the Empire. Roldan, who was controlling the horses, muttered. "It is so, Young Master. Blackwood is always like this. They are the iron heart of our Empire." There was a clear tone of respect in his voice.

Alex and Sera, however, were silent. Alex felt the same strange sensation he had felt at the gate. The unsettling aura was now thicker, permeating every pore of his skin, creating a sharp uneasiness. It was not a monster's aura, nor was it dark magic he recognized. This was more like a heavy shadow enveloping the entire city, a presence that weighed down the soul.

He glanced at Sera. The girl sat stiffly beside him, her dark purple eyes staring out the window with a blank expression, as if she also felt the same burden. Sera's own mysterious aura felt slightly trembling, as if resonating with the pressure in the air.

"What do you feel, Sera?" Alex whispered softly, almost inaudibly amidst the city's roar. Sera didn't answer immediately. She merely moved her lips slightly, as if trying to form words. "Cold... here," she finally whispered, even though sweat was starting to trickle down her forehead from the heat. "And... heavy." Alex nodded. Yes, cold. Cold amidst burning heat. The coldness of something unseen, crawling from the depths.

The carriage continued along the busy streets, passing markets filled with gleaming iron crafts, blacksmith shops emitting sparks, and houses enveloped in steam. Finally, they reached their destination. The Blackwood Residence. Even amidst a city already filled with unique buildings, this family head's residence still stood out. The building did not resemble a grand castle or a typical noble's palace. Instead, its form resembled a gigantic furnace standing tall, radiating a yellowish-orange light from specially designed windows, as if a giant light bulb capable of illuminating the entire city. Its size was immense, its walls made of black basalt stone that seemed to absorb all light, yet from every crack, light and heat radiated outwards. The symbol of a hammer and anvil was carved large above the main door made of wrought iron.

"Welcome to the Forge House, Young Master Argwager," said a middle-aged dwarf who greeted them at the door, his voice deep and heavy, yet friendly. They were invited in. Inside, the atmosphere was not much different from outside—hot, with a constant rumble of hammers and machines underground. The main hall was spacious, adorned with beautiful wrought iron artifacts, statues of ancient dwarf heroes, and murals depicting the legend of the Divine Blacksmith, Dvalin.

Dvalin was depicted as a muscular figure with a gigantic hammer, surrounded by sparks and dancing shadows. Dvalin, the God of Forge, is a god born from the pure desire to create and shape, not from emotion, but from determination. It is said that he is the only god who ever descended to the mortal realm and taught the secrets of forging to humans, choosing the Blackwood family as his descendants to continue his legacy.

A dwarf servant immediately escorted Alex's group to the rooms prepared for them—rooms that, although hot, were very comfortable and equipped with every need. Alex asked Lena and Mira to ensure Sera was comfortable and had enough food. Finn, who was still in awe, was immediately captivated by the strange sights around him. Not long after, a servant approached Alex. "Young Master Argwager, His Excellency Baron Iyusha Blackwood awaits you in his study." Alex nodded. This was it.

He followed the servant through a labyrinth of corridors that felt like being inside the belly of a cold volcano, yet radiating heat. The walls were made of stone that had not been perfectly carved, showing an honest ruggedness. They finally arrived at an iron door marked with the symbol of a hammer. The servant knocked, then opened the door.

Baron Iyusha Blackwood's study. The air inside was much hotter and thicker than other areas in the residence. The smell of hot metal and sweat filled the room.

In the center, sitting behind a desk made of black volcanic stone, was Iyusha Blackwood himself. He was a true dwarf: a sturdy body, about Alex's shoulder height, with long jet-black hair neatly braided, and a thick mustache and beard filled with silver glints. His eyes, like a blacksmith's, seemed to burn with the fire of determination and wisdom.

"Welcome, Young Master Alex Argwager," said Iyusha, his voice deep and hoarse, like a grinding stone. "Apologies for the reception at the gate earlier. Our situation lately... indeed doesn't allow for leniency." Alex bowed respectfully. "It's alright, Your Excellency Baron. I understand. Thank you for receiving us." Iyusha gestured to a chair across from his desk. "Please sit. I've asked your servants to rest. We need to talk, man to man, without interruption."

Alex sat down. Iyusha poured two cups of thick black liquid from an iron teapot. Alex guessed it was a very strong local herbal tea. Iyusha sipped it without hesitation, his eyes never leaving Alex. "I know you are still young, Young Master Argwager," Iyusha began, setting his cup down with a clink. "But your reputation, and your family's reputation, precede your age. Duke Argwager would not send just anyone for a matter of this importance."

Alex nodded. "I will do my best, Your Excellency." Iyusha sighed heavily, as if sighing with the burden of the entire city. "Alright. Let's talk about the darkness creeping over our city. As I told your father, these are not bandits. Not monsters. This is something fouler. Something that... steals souls."

He pushed aside some parchment scrolls on the desk. These were the notes he had collected from his investigation. Alex picked one up. It was a copy of a report letter.

'Mysterious Murder Case Report Letter'

To His Excellency Baron Iyusha Blackwood,

Respectfully, I report the 7th case that occurred in the Blackwood territory in the last three weeks. The victim is Randal, a young blacksmith aged 27. Found in his home at 3:00 AM.

Victim's condition: No signs of struggle or forced entry. The door was locked from the inside. Windows were tightly closed. Valuables were not missing. No physical traces (stab wounds, bruises, cuts, etc.) on the victim's body. His body appeared intact, but his eyes were empty and cold. No breath. No heartbeat. No signs of magic detected around the corpse or inside the house, even by our strongest mages.

Cause of death: Unknown medically or magically. The soul... seemed to have been forcibly extracted from the body.

Additional notes: Some neighbors reported hearing strange whispers or very faint melodies at night, but no one was sure what they were. No foreign footprints around the house. No strange smells. Only emptiness.

Sincerely,

Captain Garel, Blackwood City Guard.

Alex read the letter repeatedly. No trace. That was the most terrifying sentence. If there were no traces, how could it be investigated? It was like looking for a ghost in a blizzard.

Iyusha Blackwood watched Alex's expression. "You see, Young Master? That is a summary of all the cases. Identical. Nothing different. We have tried everything. Our mages have exhausted themselves searching for mana traces. Our knights have scoured every corner of the city. Nothing. Zero. Empty." He pounded the table with his fist, a low rumble filling the room. "Our citizens are terrified. They're starting to blame the God of Forge, Dvalin. They say it's a curse. I cannot let this continue. Duke Argwager is my only hope."

Alex put down the scroll. His mind raced, trying to connect dots that barely existed. "Strange whispers or very faint melodies," Alex murmured, quoting from the report. "Is that just the imagination of terrified citizens?" "Perhaps," Iyusha shrugged, "but it's mentioned too often in different reports. It's hard to ignore." "Is there a pattern to the victims?" Alex asked. "Age? Occupation? Location of discovery?"

Iyusha nodded. "That's the most disturbing part. The victims are between 20 and 40 years old. All are blacksmiths, or have close ties to blacksmiths. Found in their homes, in the early hours of the morning. And strangest of all, all victims had strong soul auras, even for ordinary people. They... were passionate people."

Alex was silent. Strong souls. Forcibly extracted. No magical traces. Whispers or melodies. The unsettling aura he felt throughout the city. Everything began to form a vague pattern, like a thin thread just emerging from the darkness. He remembered the subtle resonance he felt when carrying Sera, and how the girl's purple eyes stared blankly out the window upon entering the city. Was Sera feeling the same thing? Or was Sera, in some way, connected to this phenomenon?

"Something is stealing souls," Alex said softly, more to himself. "And it's targeting those with strong souls, especially blacksmiths." "Yes. But what?" Iyusha looked at him, a faint desperation in his burning eyes. Alex closed his eyes for a moment, trying to process all the information. This wasn't a matter of muscle. This was a matter of mind. Similar to Lugen's puzzles, but with much more real consequences. He had to use his brain. He had to think like someone looking for a ghost.

"Your Excellency Baron," Alex said, opening his eyes. His gaze was now clear and determined. "I need full access to all records. All eyewitnesses. Everyone who heard those whispers or melodies. And I want to inspect the scene of every murder."

Iyusha nodded without hesitation. "Anything you need, Young Master. I will order Captain Garel to assist you fully." "And for now," Alex continued, "I want my party to be safe here. Especially the little girl I found. She... is traumatized. I don't want her involved in this matter." Alex was slightly worried about Sera's safety.

Iyusha sighed, stroking his beard. "I will order additional security for your residence. She will be safe." "Very well," Alex said. "We will start tomorrow morning. Today I will study these records. And Your Excellency... we will find whatever is plucking these souls. I promise." Iyusha looked at Alex. A sincere smile finally formed on his stern face. "I trust you, Young Master Argwager. I feel the Blacksmith's determination within you."

Alex rose from his chair. The discussion had ended. Now it was time to act. Blackwood City, with all its heat and mystery, had welcomed him. And he knew, the war against this unseen darkness had just begun. He felt the unsettling aura pulsing stronger around him, challenging him.