Chapter 23 – The Deadly Web in the Steel City

Morning in Blackwood City always came with the roar of hammers and the clang of furnaces, but that morning, for Alex, the rhythm of steel felt like his own pulse—tense, full of anticipation, and a little burdened.

His sleep last night was restless. Although his body was tired from the journey and the small skirmish against bandits, his mind kept swirling, unraveling every word in the report given by Baron Iyusha. The notes, with their minimal details, were the most complex puzzle he had ever faced. No trace. That's what haunted him.

How could something take a life without leaving a trace? This was a case far more cunning than forest monsters or war strategies. This was a mind game.

After a bath that felt like being boiled, and donning a simpler daily robe, Alex walked to the meeting room in the Blackwood residence. The room was large and circular, with a black stone table in the center, surrounded by sturdy chairs. The windows in the room were covered with thick, dark glass, filtering out most of the outside light and giving a dim, serious atmosphere, illuminated only by magic torches affixed to the walls. The faint smell of metal and charcoal still lingered, like the city's own breath.

When Alex entered, several important figures were already waiting. Baron Iyusha Blackwood was already seated in the main chair, his thick beard looking more imposing under the dim light.

Beside him sat Captain Garel, the head of the city guard whose report Alex had read last night. Garel was a human, tall and muscular, with a stern face and a scar on his left cheek, his eyes sharp like a constantly vigilant eagle's. There was also Magistra Lyra, an elven sorceress with silver hair and emerald green eyes that looked tired, indicating she had spent many sleepless nights investigating. Beside her, a thin priest from the Temple of Dvalin, Pastor Borin, in a gray robe and eyes that radiated deep sorrow. And finally, Chief Detective Theron, an old gnome with spectacles perched on his aquiline nose, his fingers stained with ink, as if he had just woken up from a pile of documents.

The majority were indeed dwarves, but the presence of humans, elves, and gnomes showed the racial diversity in this city of blacksmiths.

"Good morning, Young Master Argwager," Iyusha greeted, his voice heavy. "Thank you for coming. We don't have much time. Every minute we waste could mean another life."

Alex nodded, taking a seat across from Garel. "Good morning, Your Excellency Baron. Captain Garel, Magistra Lyra, Pastor Borin, Detective Theron. Let's get straight to the point." A tense atmosphere enveloped the room. Like a newly forged sword blade, ready to be tested.

"I have read Captain Garel's report," Alex began, his voice calm yet possessing a surprising authority for his age. He felt skeptical glances from some, especially Theron and Garel, but he ignored them. "The records are very minimal. No physical traces, no magical traces. There is only one consistent clue: faint whispers or melodies reported by some neighbors."

Magistra Lyra sighed. "I have performed mana detection rituals repeatedly, Young Master. Even tried to summon minor spirits to search for residual energy. Nothing. Zero. As if the death was... natural. Impossible." "Impossible indeed, Magistra," Alex countered. "Because there is no natural death that occurs mysteriously without leaving a trace. If it's not magic, not poison, not a blow, then it's something else. Something we don't yet understand."

Pastor Borin, who had been silent, finally spoke. His voice was hoarse. "Their souls... their souls are gone. I can feel it. Every time I come to a crime scene, it feels like an empty hole. As if a piece of the universe was forcibly removed." Iyusha nodded. "That's what makes us desperate, Young Master. This is beyond our expertise. We are blacksmiths. We understand metal and fire. We understand monsters with claws and fangs. But this... this is like facing darkness itself."

"Then we must understand this darkness," Alex said. "Detective Theron, have you found any other patterns beyond what already exists? The victims... did any of them have strange habits? Secret enemies? Hidden desires?" Theron, the gnome, cleaned his spectacles. "We have examined their personal lives, Young Master. Randal, the latest victim, was an enthusiastic young blacksmith, wanting to create the perfect weapon. The previous victim, a metal sculptor named Elara, was obsessed with the smallest details. Another victim, a shield smith named Kael, wanted to protect his family from all danger. All of them... devoted to their work, with a burning passion to create or protect." Alex felt a connection. 'Strong souls. Passionate. Creating. Protecting.' Just like Dvalin, the God of Forge. Was there a connection to that?

"And those whispers or melodies?" Alex continued. "What other details are there about that?" Captain Garel replied. "Eyewitnesses could never describe it clearly, Young Master. They just said it was... like a very old song. Or whispers from behind curtains. Only faintly heard, in the middle of the night. And only a few people heard it, who happened to live near the victims."

"Did those who heard the whispers also have strong souls?" Alex asked. Garel paused, then turned to Theron. "We never collected that data, Young Master. It's too... subjective." Alex sighed. "In this case, the subjective might be the main clue. We need to consider everything, no matter how small or strange. Remember, we are looking for a trace that leaves no trace." He felt Lyra and Theron flinch slightly at that statement.

"I have a proposal," Alex said. "I want to visit every crime scene. Starting from the first victim to the last. I want to see it with my own eyes. Perhaps something was missed, something that can only be felt, not seen." Iyusha looked at Alex for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. Captain Garel will accompany you. He knows every inch of this city and every detail of the case."

Garel saluted. "Ready, Young Master." There was a clearer tone of respect in his voice now. Pastor Borin suddenly stood up. "I will come too. Perhaps there is something I can feel there. The lost souls... they are calling." Magistra Lyra also raised her hand. "Me too, Young Master. Perhaps there is residual energy that will only respond to another presence." Alex smiled faintly. His first investigation team. Not bad. "Alright. We will depart soon. Captain Garel, prepare a small carriage. We don't want to attract attention."

***

The journey through Blackwood felt like walking through the belly of a living mountain. Every step was filled with the sound of hammers, billowing steam, and constant heat. Captain Garel drove a small, inconspicuous carriage, weaving through crowds of dwarves and a few humans busy with their work. The air felt heavy, and the unsettling aura Alex had felt since arriving in the city grew thicker. Sera, left with Lena, Mira, and Finn at the Blackwood residence, was probably devouring their food supplies now. Alex smiled faintly at the thought.

They arrived at the first crime scene. A simple blacksmith's house on the outskirts of the city. Its location was hidden among larger buildings. Garel opened the already unsealed door. Inside, there was nothing special. Blacksmithing tools were neatly arranged in a corner. The bed was made. The dining table was clean. There were no signs of struggle. No damage. The room felt empty, like a hollow box after its contents had been stolen. Alex closed his eyes, trying to feel something. He activated his magical senses, letting mana flow faintly at his fingertips, trying to catch any magical resonance that Lyra might have missed. Nothing. The room was devoid of traces.

"Nothing," Alex muttered. "As reported." Magistra Lyra stepped forward, her hand holding a small, faintly flickering crystal. She began to chant a spell, ancient elven whispers that sounded like rustling wind. Her crystal flickered faster, but there was no strong response. "The mana here... is very weak, Young Master. Perhaps remnants of normal life, but no traces of abnormal magic." Pastor Borin walked to the center of the room, his eyes closed. He raised his hands, as if feeling the air. "Cold... so cold. This isn't the cold of temperature. This is the cold of... death that shouldn't be here." He swayed slightly, his face pale.

They visited the second, third, and fourth crime scenes. All were the same. Neat houses. No traces. The same emptiness. Alex began to feel frustrated. This was like chasing a shadow dancing in a mirror. He tried to see from a different perspective, imagining himself as the killer. How to enter? How to extract a soul without a trace?

At the fifth crime scene, the house of an iron ornament maker, Alex found something slightly different. On the windowsill, hidden behind a dried flowerpot, there was a drop of thick black liquid. The liquid was almost invisible, like a dried ink stain. "Captain Garel,"

Alex called. "What is this?" Garel approached, bending down. He touched it with his finger. "This is... Blackwood tree resin. Very sticky. It's usually used to bond metals or make fireproof varnish." Alex nodded. "Take a sample. Is this resin always present at every crime scene?" Garel shook his head. "No. This is the first time I've seen it." Alex observed the drop. Small, inconspicuous. Who would see it? Why was there only one drop? Was this a clue or a coincidence? "Something new," Alex said, more to himself. "The first clue."

They proceeded to the sixth crime scene. The house of a sword smith. This time, Alex found something else. On the workbench, beside a hammer and anvil, there was a sketch. A sword sketch. The sword had intricate carvings, very fine details, and on its hilt, there was a strange symbol.

A spiral symbol with three dots around it. "Does anyone recognize this symbol?" Alex asked, showing the sketch to Garel and Lyra. Magistra Lyra approached, her eyes narrowing. "This... this isn't a common magic symbol. It looks like an ancient rune, but... incomplete. Or perhaps it's the smith's personal symbol?" "No," Garel said. "I've been here many times. He never made a symbol like this." Alex felt a strange sensation. There was a faint energy emanating from the sketch, not magic, but something more primitive. A familiar aura, yet he couldn't understand it. He photographed it in his memory.

They finally arrived at the seventh crime scene. The house of the last victim, Randal. A small house located in a narrow alley, far from the crowd. The door of the house had been unsealed, and inside, Alex felt the strongest cold aura. The air here felt heavier, as if filled with unheard cries. Alex stepped inside. The room was as empty as the others. He observed every corner. Ceiling, floor, walls. He tried to activate his senses as much as possible, searching, feeling, even the faintest trace.

Pastor Borin swayed, his hand clutching his chest. "This... this is the worst. His soul... it's calling." Magistra Lyra also looked uncomfortable, her crystal flickering erratically, her voice like a whisper. "There's something here... that isn't detected. Something that transcends my magical abilities." Alex closed his eyes. He let his senses spread, like ripples in water. He wasn't looking for magic, not looking for physical traces. He was looking for 'absence.' Looking for the 'empty hole' Borin mentioned.

And then, he saw it. In the middle of the room, floating in the air, a web. Not a physical web, not a spider web. It was a web made of shadows and the aura of death, almost invisible to the naked eye. Pitch black, eerie, with thin threads shimmering with a faint light that only Alex could see. The web pulsed softly, like a slowly beating heart, and from every intersection of its threads, he could feel a strong pull, a pull leading to emptiness. It was a soul-plucking web.

Alex gasped, his eyes wide. Only he could see it. It wasn't magic. It... was a presence. Something beyond normal comprehension. The web was the answer. It was the trace that left no trace. "I see it," Alex whispered, his voice hoarse. "A web... a black web."

Garel and Lyra turned to him, their eyes full of confusion. "What web, Young Master?" Garel asked. Alex didn't answer. He just kept staring at the horrifying web, pulsing in the air. A symphony of death. He knew. He had found the trace he had been searching for. And now, he had to find out who was behind this deadly web. Something far larger and more terrifying than he had imagined.