NOVPUBI was torn from sleep by urgent knocking.
My eyes snapped open instantly, mind alert despite the early hour. The knocking came again, more insistent this time.
"Enter," I called, already sitting up in the luxurious bed.
A servant in Rimaris livery pushed open the door, face ashen. "Master Tomas, your presence is required immediately. There's been—" He swallowed hard. "There's been an incident. Master Elias requests everyone gather in the north wing. Lord Kaeven's chambers."
Something in his tone made my skin prickle. "What kind of incident?"
The servant's eyes darted away. "It's not my place to say, sir. Please hurry and make your way there."
I nodded, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. "Give me a moment to dress."
Quickly, I put on the clothes provided by the estate, finer garments than I'd ever worn in this body. The fabric felt almost unnaturally smooth against my skin.
"Azure, did you sense anything during the night? Any disturbances?"
“Apart from the energy fluctuations of the technique keeping an eye on us, nothing,” Azure replied, his voice troubled.
That was concerning.
Azure's perceptive abilities were extraordinary, able to detect even carefully masked cultivation energy. For something to have happened without him noticing...
"Whatever this 'incident' is, I doubt it bodes well for our journey,” I murmured, fastening the last button on my tunic.
The corridors of the east wing were now alive with activity despite the early hour. Servants hurried back and forth, whispering among themselves, their faces uniformly pale. Guards who had been stationed at intervals the previous evening now clustered in tight groups, hands resting on their weapons as they scanned the shadows with newfound wariness.
I followed the flow of movement, allowing it to guide me toward what appeared to be the central wing of the estate. Ahead, I spotted Lady Laelyn emerging from her own chambers, her hair hastily arranged, draped in a simple blue robe. Beric stood protectively at her side, his expression grim.
"What's happening?" I asked as I approached them.
Beric's hand instinctively moved to his sword at my sudden appearance, relaxing only marginally when he recognized me. "Lord Rimaris has been found dead in his chambers," he said, his voice low and tense. "Murdered."
I didn't have to fake the shock that widened my eyes. "Murdered? But how? I thought this estate was meant to be secure."
"It should have been," Beric replied, his jaw clenching with barely suppressed fury. "The Lightweavers maintained constant surveillance. Nothing should have been able to penetrate the defenses without raising an alarm."
Lady Laelyn's face had gone ghostly white. "Who would want to harm Lord Kaeven? He was a respected nobleman, a member of the Order."
"We don't know yet," Beric said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But I intend to find out. Come, they're gathering in the antechamber outside his quarters."
We followed Beric through the corridors and up a grand staircase to the west wing, where Lord Kaeven's private apartments were located. The concentration of guards increased as we approached, their faces set in expressions of rigid professionalism that couldn't quite mask their unease.
The antechamber was already crowded when we arrived. Lady Mara stood near the far wall, her lips moving in silent prayer. The six Lightweavers were clustered together, speaking in hushed tones. Household staff and a few local nobles who had been guests at dinner stood in shocked silence.
Nevarn, Lord Kaeven's advisor, paced the center of the room. His unremarkable features, which I had noted at dinner, now seemed haggard with grief or fear, perhaps both.
"What happened?" Beric asked as we entered.
Nevarn stopped his pacing, his eyes darting nervously around the room before settling on our group. "My lord retired for the evening after dinner. His body was discovered by his valet this morning when he went to wake him." His voice cracked slightly.
“How…how did he die?” Lady Laelyn asked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear for the third time in as many minutes, though it hadn't fallen out of place.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Nevarn's face contorted momentarily. He turned away, pressing the handkerchief to his mouth as if fighting nausea. When he turned back, his complexion had gone ashen.
"The... the manner of death is... unusual." He took two unsteady steps toward a gilded sideboard and poured himself a glass of water with shaking hands, spilling half on the ground. He drained it in one desperate gulp. "Unlike anything I've ever... ever witnessed."
"How so?" Beric pressed.
Nevarn glanced toward a set of ornate double doors, presumably leading to Kaeven's bedchamber. His eyes lingered there, haunted, before he visibly steeled himself, squaring his shoulders with visible effort.
"Perhaps it's better to show you," he said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. He moved to the doors, hand hesitating on the handle. "Though I warn you, it's... disturbing." His fingers clenched and unclenched several times before finally turning the handle with a decisive motion.
The double doors opened, and we were led into what had once been an opulent bedroom.
Now, it was a scene of grotesque death.
Lord Kaeven, or what remained of him, hung suspended in the center of the room, several feet above the marble floor. His body had been crushed, compressed by some immense force until it barely resembled a human form. Blood had sprayed in a perfect circle around the corpse, staining the elegant furnishings and creating a macabre pattern on the ceiling.
Most disturbing was the expression frozen on what was left of his face, eyes bulging, mouth stretched wide in a silent scream that had never been heard.
My face paled as I took in the scene. This body, Tomas's body, had seen violence before. The village attack had left corpses strewn across familiar streets.
But this was different.
This was methodical. Deliberate. Powerful.
"By the Blue Sun," Lady Laelyn whispered, her hand covering her mouth.
"No signs of forced entry," Beric murmured, his gaze sweeping the room. "No struggle."
"The doors were locked from within,” Nevarn confirmed. “The windows remained sealed. And the surveillance formations detected nothing unusual.”
"What kind of formations?" Beric asked.
One of the Lightweavers, the senior one named Elias, answered. "Detection formations. They monitor for unusual energy signatures, unauthorized movement, or attempts at concealment." His face was troubled. "They should have alerted us to any intruder, yet they registered nothing until the moment of death itself."
"Could it have been... those assassins from the inn?" Lady Laelyn asked, her voice trembling slightly. "The Lightweavers who were after me?"
"Impossible," Elias replied immediately. "Lord Kaeven was a Peak Rank 6 Lightweaver. The power required..." He shook his head. "This would require a minimum of Rank 7…”
"Master Nevarn," Beric said. "Do you have any suspects? Anyone who would wish Lord Kaeven harm?"
The adviser shook his head. "Lord Kaeven had political rivals, of course, as any man of his station does. But none who would dare such a direct assault." His voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "This was not merely an assassination. This was a message."
I studied Nevarn carefully as he spoke.
He knew something. The tremor in his hand, the way his eyes refused to settle on the corpse, these weren't merely the reactions of a man grieving his master. This was the behavior of someone terrified that he might be next.
"A message to whom?" Elias asked.
"That," Nevarn replied, "I cannot say."
The evasion was obvious. He didn't say "I don't know," but rather "I cannot say."
The distinction was telling.
Lady Mara, who had been silent until now, suddenly stepped forward. Her eyes fixed on me with alarming intensity. "Death follows him," she announced, her voice rising shrilly as she pointed a trembling finger in my direction. "First his village, then the assassins at the inn, now Lord Kaeven. Everywhere this boy goes, death follows!"
"Lady Mara!" Laelyn exclaimed, clearly shocked. "Tomas is a victim, not a harbinger of death!"
But the older woman had begun to trace protective symbols in the air between us, her fingers leaving faint trails of blue light. "There is something wrong with him," she insisted, her eyes never leaving my face. "Something not right."
I maintained an expression of wounded innocence, though internally I couldn’t blame her. Lady Mara's suspicions, while misdirected in detail, were uncomfortably perceptive in essence. There was indeed something "not right" about me, just not in the way she imagined.
"Lady Mara speaks from fear, not reason," Beric surprisingly interjected on my behalf. "Tomas has been under constant supervision since joining our company. He could not have perpetrated this act."
"Besides," I added, allowing an appropriate amount of offense to color my tone, "I'm a village boy with no training. How could I possibly kill a Rank 6 in his chambers?"
Lady Mara's accusations had created a momentary distraction, but attention soon returned to the grisly scene before us and what was to be done next.
"We should depart immediately," Beric announced after a moment of tense silence. "Whatever transpired here may have been aimed at Lord Kaeven alone, or it may presage further violence. Either way, our priority remains Lady Laelyn's safety."
"But the investigation—" one of the other Lightweavers began.
"Will proceed without us," Beric cut in firmly. "Lord Kaeven had arranged for an escort to the Academy today. Those arrangements still stand, I presume?" He directed this last question to Nevarn.
The advisor seemed almost relieved at the prospect of our departure. "Yes, of course. The escort stands ready. In fact, I think it would be best if you left as soon as possible."
His eagerness to see us gone confirmed my growing suspicion. Whatever plot had been in motion, Nevarn had been party to it. And now, with his master dead, he seemed desperate to distance himself from potential fallout.
"Then we'll leave within the hour," Beric decided. "I suggest everyone return to their chambers and prepare for departure."
As the group began to disperse, I lingered slightly, taking a final look at the broken body on the floor. The sheer power required to inflict such damage was staggering. Whoever had done this hadn't merely wanted Kaeven dead, they had wanted him utterly destroyed.
"A terrible tragedy," Lady Laelyn said softly, appearing at my side. "Lord Kaeven was a friend to my family for generations."
I nodded sympathetically, though privately I wondered just how genuine that friendship had been. Noble politics were rarely as straightforward as they appeared.
"Let's go," she added, placing a gentle hand on my arm. "We should prepare for the journey."
