Chapter 24 – The Missing Thread, The Binding Riddle

Alex's shock felt like an electric jolt in the cold air of the living room, a shockwave that only he could feel. The horrifying black web, pulsing with the aura of death, clearly floated before him for a moment, but then, as if pulled by an invisible thread, it faded, dissolving back into the emptiness that had originally enveloped the room. Alex blinked, trying to convince himself that he wasn't hallucinating. However, the sensation of the web's presence still lingered in his senses, like an echo of a death knell that had just ceased to resound.

"What web, Young Master?" Captain Garel repeated his question, his tone filled with confusion. Magistra Lyra and Pastor Borin also looked at Alex with deep curiosity. They saw nothing. Alex turned towards them, his face still slightly pale, but his mind began to race, forming words. He couldn't say that he saw a pulsating aura of death; it wasn't time yet. Alex remembered his father's message about cunning and silent darkness, and Elaira's words about reality not wanting to be heard if not paid attention to. This was a brutal reality, but he had to uncover it with the right methods.

"A... distortion," Alex tried to explain, choosing his words carefully. "A pattern in the air, barely visible, like ripples on very still water. Black. And... it disappeared so quickly." He didn't explicitly mention "web," letting them speculate.

"I don't know if it's an illusion, or a manifestation of something else. But it was there, and it was in the middle of the room where Randal was found." Magistra Lyra approached, observing the room carefully, her crystal flickering faster. "A distortion? Strong mana can form illusions, Young Master, but... if it was there, there should be residual energy. I don't feel anything. Absolutely no trace." Her tone was full of skepticism, but there was a hint of curiosity she couldn't hide.

"That's precisely what's strange, Magistra," Alex countered, his voice steady again, controlling his emotions. "Absolutely no trace. Just like the victims, whose souls seem to have been extracted without a trace." He turned to Pastor Borin. "Pastor, the whispers or melodies you heard... what did they feel like? Can you describe them in more detail?"

Pastor Borin pursed his lips, as if trying to re-experience the sensation. "It was like... a sigh. Or a very faint lullaby. Cold. And... lulling. I often woke up because of it, in the middle of the night, but always thought it was just imagination due to fear. That sound... it was like a sound coming from a very distant, very old place." "And this happened on the night of every victim's death?" Alex asked. "Not always," Pastor Borin shook his head. "But often enough. I live not far from Randal's house. I heard it last night. And several nights before, near the houses of other victims. It's... like a call, Young Master. A very subtle call, but... deadly."

"What about the drop of Blackwood tree resin at the fifth crime scene?" Alex turned to Captain Garel. "Has it been analyzed?" Garel pulled a small pouch from his pocket. "Yes, Young Master. Detective Theron is analyzing it. But he says it's just ordinary resin. No magic, no strange substances. Just sticky." Alex sighed. The clue he had so painstakingly found turned out to be merely "ordinary." But he knew, in cases like these, the "ordinary" was often the most hidden key. Like a key that was too obvious for everyone to overlook.

They returned to the meeting room in the Blackwood residence. The intense discussion resumed, now with the added mystery of the shadow distortion seen only by Alex. Iyusha listened seriously, occasionally stroking his thick beard.

"So, Young Master Alex," Iyusha began, his eyes burning like embers. "You are sure you saw something that was invisible to us? A... pattern in the air?" "I am sure, Your Excellency," Alex replied firmly. "It was a manifestation. Not an ordinary magical illusion, but perhaps... a physical form of an invisible force. Like frost forming in cold air. Present, yet easily vanished. And I believe, it is the tool used to extract the victims' souls."

Magistra Lyra leaned back in her chair, her brow furrowed. "If it's not magic, then what? A god? A force from another realm? Blackwood is a city blessed by the God of Forge, Dvalin. He is a god of creation, not death. This contradicts everything we know."

"Precisely, Magistra," Alex said. "This isn't the magic we know. It might not even be direct divine intervention. But something that manipulates the very essence of the soul. Pastor Borin, you said their souls were lost. How do you know?"

Pastor Borin closed his eyes. "There's... a lingering trace. An emptiness. Like a house that suddenly lost its occupant. The minor spirits around the city also seem restless. They don't dare approach the victims' homes. They know something is rotten. I feel... a very deep emptiness, Young Master. As if a part of their essence was... drawn away."

"Those whispers or melodies," Alex returned to the topic. "Pastor, can you try to describe them again? Is there a pattern? A tune? Does it sound like a language?" Borin tried to recall. "No... not a language. More like a murmur. Or... a hum. Like a harp string vibrating very softly in the distance. And the tune... always the same. Monotonous. Cold. It invites... death. I feel it." Alex nodded.'A hum. A monotonous tune. Cold. Inviting death.' He connected that to the shadow distortion he saw, which also pulsed softly. Was that hum the sound of the soul-extractor itself?

"If that distortion only appeared for a moment, and left no magical or physical trace," Alex speculated, his eyes fixed on the table. "Then the culprit is very clever. They don't want to be detected. It's like a killer who leaves no fingerprints, no witnesses, and not even a body to examine." "But there are bodies, Young Master," Captain Garel interjected. "Their bodies are still intact." "Physically intact, Captain," Alex countered. "But spiritually empty. That's worse than a physical corpse. It's a perfect emptiness."

Theron, the gnome detective, finally spoke. "We speculate that there might be an intangible entity seeking strong souls. Spectral beings. But we have no proof. Every attempt we made to lure or detect them resulted in nothing." "Spectral beings would leave traces of ethereal energy, Detective," said Magistra Lyra. "I've tried all detection spells. Nothing. This... is beyond the scope of the magic I've learned."

Alex tapped his fingers on the table. "If it's not magic we know, not ordinary spectral entities, and not physical methods, then we have to think outside the box. Like a detective who sees every small detail at a crime scene that others overlook, because it's too common." He picked up the drop of black liquid from Garel's pouch. "This resin. Why was there only one drop at the fifth crime scene? Why not at the others? Was the perpetrator careless? Or did they intentionally leave a false clue?" Garel shrugged. "It's possible. Bandits often do that to divert attention." "But these aren't bandits, Captain," Alex emphasized. "These are precise murders. A bandit wouldn't extract souls. They would steal valuables."

Alex thought again about the sword sketch with the spiral symbol at the sixth crime scene. He tried to draw the symbol in the air with his finger. "This symbol. Is it in any ancient books in the Blackwood library?" Iyusha thought. "We have many ancient books on forging and the legends of Dvalin. I will ask the library to search for it. But I doubt it. Dwarf symbols are usually more... square and straight."

"If it's not a dwarf symbol, not a common magic symbol, then it's a unique symbol," Alex said. "Perhaps the perpetrator's personal symbol, or their group's. Or... the target's. Did the sixth victim have an obsession with a particular symbol?" "No such report," Theron replied.

The discussion continued, growing deeper, more tangled. Every answer brought two new questions. Alex felt like he was swimming in a dark ocean, searching for a light that barely existed. He remembered Elaira's words, 'I know that I know nothing.' And that made him wise. Alex realized how little he knew about this darkness.

"Pastor Borin," Alex called, his eyes sharp. "Doesn't the Temple of Dvalin have very, very old records or legends? Something that might have been long forgotten, or considered merely allegories? About... a force that extracts essences, not bodies?" Pastor Borin was silent for a moment, his face deep in thought, as if digging up memories from the dusty archives of the temple.

"There are... some very hidden records, Young Master. Considered ancient superstitions, even by the priests themselves. They speak of 'Essence Extractors.' Not living beings, not spirits, but... a phenomenon. A shadow of unfulfilled desires, that can draw the essence of life from those with the brightest 'soul light'." Iyusha pounded the table. "That's just an old legend, Pastor! A fairy tale to scare children! Why are you only mentioning it now?" "Because it was always considered a myth, Your Excellency Baron," Borin defended himself, his voice hoarse. "There was never any real proof. And the description is very vague, mostly just allegories about the dangers of obsession. But... with what Young Master Alex saw, and what I felt... perhaps there is a deeper truth than we suspected."

"Legends are often rooted in truth, Your Excellency," Alex interjected, looking at Borin. "And if 'unfulfilled desires' are their allure, it matches our victims' profile: blacksmiths with strong souls and burning passion who always strive for perfection, but perhaps also face frustration and failure." Magistra Lyra looked deep in thought. "If it's an 'Essence Extractor,' no spell can detect them. No sword can harm them. They are another form of existence, an anomaly." Alex nodded. "But the distortion was visible. I saw it. That means there's a way to affect them, or at least see their manifestation. And those whispers or melodies... perhaps they are their 'call,' or a side effect of their presence."

Alex proposed searching for ancient records about 'Essence Extractors' in the temple and Blackwood libraries, searching for deeper patterns in the victims' lives, and asking all citizens who heard the whispers or melodies to report to him personally. He wanted to draw a sound map, not a physical map. "We will do this every night,"

Alex said. "I want Captain Garel to tighten patrols, especially in areas with strong-souled blacksmiths. Magistra Lyra, try to detect very subtle mana distortions, which might not be visible to ordinary spells, or even distortions in the ethereal realm. Pastor Borin, I want you to accompany me to the homes of every remaining victim, and feel that 'emptiness' again. Detective Theron, continue to meticulously examine every smallest detail. Every drop, every symbol. We must find the thread that binds this."

Iyusha nodded. "Very well. We will work your way, Young Master. I have already activated the city's defenses to the highest level. But if this is an 'Essence Extractor'... Dvalin himself might not be able to help us." Alex stood. The atmosphere in the meeting room became heavier, darker. The mystery they faced was far greater than they had imagined.

That night, after returning to his room, Alex couldn't sleep. He sat by the window, watching the golden-red light emanating from the city's furnaces. The heavy air still lingered. He remembered the shadow distortion he saw, and the whispers or melodies Borin heard. An invisible symphony of death, dancing among passionate humans.

Suddenly, he felt a soft touch on his shoulder. He turned. Sera stood beside him, her purple eyes radiating concern. The girl said nothing, only looked at him with a gaze full of sympathy. Unconsciously, Alex reached for Sera's small hand. Her hand felt warm, a contrast to the coldness he felt. "You feel it too, don't you, Sera?" Alex whispered.

Sera nodded slowly. "Dark... and sad. Like... like something is missing." Alex looked at Sera's innocent face. The girl's presence, with all its mystery, somehow gave him a little comfort amidst the burden he felt. The distortion... was the key. But who wove it? And why? And why could he only see it? Was this related to him, or to Sera?

Outside the window, among the shadows dancing in Blackwood's alleys, a blood-red eye gleamed for a moment, watching. An unnaturally long arm waved slowly, as if spinning invisible threads in the darkness of the night.