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“This is Madam Spirit Aura, an independent Extraordinary Exponent I have known for many years, a Level 2 necromancer-type Spellcaster. She can help us find the truth.”

Byrne looked at the so-called “Madam Spirit Aura,” aware that she was using a fake name.

“Madam Spirit Aura, hello, I am Byrne Fischer.”

“Hello.”

She responded indifferently, her eyes conveying a reclusive sense of social rejection.

Independent Extraordinary Exponents refer to those who do not belong to any organizations or have any family affiliations.

They act with less scruples, often only a thin line away from illegal extraordinaries and evil cultists.

“Madam Spirit Aura” was dressed in a dark purple robe, her hair still black and thick, with only the occasional grey strand surfacing, and moon-shaped earrings that glittered continuously on her ears.

Her face had a unique charm that had settled over the years, her skin slightly loose but still smooth and delicate.

Prophecy-type Spellcasters were rather rare, and using necromantic magic to investigate someone’s death was common, but the grand churches all believed that defiling a body without care was a bad thing.

In Claud World, research on Soul Power was almost nonexistent, yet the spellcasting talent of the necromancer type still existed, belonging to one of the eight major types that were the most difficult to find a tradition to practice.

Madam Spirit Aura did not make a sound, but silently closed her eyes to manipulate the Magic Power in the air around her.

A faint green light began to emerge from the body,

Viscount Bast quickly got up and approached his brother, Sheriff Renzo, and said rapidly:

“So what exactly happened, Renzo, huh, are you suggesting my beloved brother-in-law, fed up with his own corpulent figure after eating too much, shot himself? Bang! Just like that!”

Sheriff Renzo looked at his smiling elder brother, Viscount Bast, with an unreasonable gaze and said discontentedly:

“How can you still crack jokes under these circumstances? Have you completely lost your mind?”

Deep down, Byrne also felt that Viscount Bast, whether in public or private, was a man “too humorous and lacking in dignity,” even derisively referred to by members of the Eagle clan as “the clown viscount who feeds the lions in the circus.”

If it weren’t for the fact that the enemies of the Lion clan often ended up dead in ditches, or that on occasion some people would suddenly cry and apologize to Viscount Bast in public, people might truly treat this middle-aged lord of Fein City as a real “clown.”

“Ow!”

Suddenly, Mr. Gold’s eyes and mouth emitted a profound green light, and his hefty body started to float off the ground, making strange noises.

The body shouted hoarsely: “Help! Help! Byrne, save me!”

The voice was ice-cold and horrifying, and even Byrne could feel the dead man’s will eroding his own spirit, causing intense discomfort deep inside.

After the body spoke, Viscount Bast and Sheriff Renzo both turned to Byrne, who looked horror-struck.

Viscount Bast shrugged and said with a smile: “Byrne, actually, that sentence is good news for you; it directly clears half of your suspicion.”

“If he had screamed, ‘Ah, ah, ah, ah, Byrne, give me back my money!’, that would be bad because Mr. Gold’s money is my money!”

The viscount remained lighthearted, while Sheriff Renzo frowned and disapproved more than ever of his brother, but Byrne was far from able to laugh.

Madam Spirit Aura took a deep breath, controlling the necromantic magic wandering around, the mystical force that could awaken the deceased making Mr. Gold’s body speak.

She asked calmly: “Who killed you?”

“It was, it was… oh…”

The green energy on the body churned and boiled; it seemed full of hatred and fear, its raspy voice made Byrne feel a deep, eerie sensation from within, witnessing a dead man speak for the first time.

“It’s not a person, it’s me!”

Mr. Gold’s answer made everyone present pause and feel confused.

“Not human, it’s me?”

Byrne fell into deep thought. What did the corpse’s answer truly signify? He felt that the two phrases weren’t coherent, and that the corpse’s answer surely had a deeper implication.

The pale green energy gradually dissipated, and the body fell to the ground, returning to stillness. The oppressive atmosphere in the air finally vanished, and everyone instantly felt much more relaxed.

Viscount Bast hummed and scoffed:

“It seems my hugely built brother-in-law has thoroughly returned to the embrace of the Lord of Salvation. So, about the so-called killer’s words ‘not human, it’s me,’ Madam Spirit Aura, what is your opinion?”

Sheriff Renzo couldn’t help but roll his eyes, not finding his brother’s constant mockery of the deceased amusing in the least.

Madam Spirit Aura, not one to manipulate a corpse into speaking for the first time with the “Deceased Inquiry Spell,” could be considered well-experienced and nodded in explanation:

“The meaning of the two phrases can be understood like this. First, the one who killed him isn’t a human but a sub-human, a foreign race, or even a mysterious creature or being.”

The trio including Byrne all nodded in agreement; they had also just come to this point.

Madam Spirit Aura paused, then continued, “As for the latter part ‘it’s me,’ I find that a bit confusing. It’s possible that he was manipulated into suicide, and perhaps that could explain his response during the inquiry.”

Byrne, pondering the mysterious knowledge he had read about in certain books, suddenly said:

“I think there’s another possibility, that the non-human killer could actually take on the appearance of Mr. Gold, which is why he felt extremely confused in the moment before his death.”

He remembered that indeed some mysterious creatures and beings could take on the form of their target before beginning their slaughter.

Bast nodded, giving Byrne a serious lookover from head to toe for the first time and smiling:

“That makes sense, a very logical deduction. I’ve been told by the steward that you were the first to find the body. Why don’t you tell me more about the situation, about your ‘date for two’ with Gold.”

Byrne recounted the events he witnessed from beginning to end, with clear logic and articulation, responding calmly.

Viscount Bast showed an appreciative smile.

“I’ve heard about you from Gold before; you are indeed an outstanding individual.”

After speaking, he walked over and patted Byrne’s shoulder, speaking up close:

“I possess an innate ability to see through a person’s true character in a short time, and you, you are a man of loyalty and integrity.”

“I believe Gold’s death has nothing to do with you. You’re off the hook for the moment, Byrne, but be sure to let your family be cautious on your way back.”

Byrne’s heart sank, and he took a deep breath, asking respectfully, “Lord Viscount, what exactly is going on?”

Bast continued, “I’ve of course experienced such matters in my decades of life. It’s an act of assassination against enemy forces. Someone has us in their sights.”

“The assassination against us might not just happen once, but may become a terrible maelstrom, incessantly dragging those on the brink into its depths, and at the end, only a multitude of corpses will remain.”

He leaned in, speaking quietly in Byrne’s ear with calmness:

“There’s no doubt Gold was my cash cow, and the Fischer family is my ‘money branch.’ Anyway, be careful; I don’t want to see my business partners dying one after the other.”

Indeed, it was an assassination against the Lion clan!

Byrne felt extremely tense and to some extent, he found those hidden unseen enemies to be even more dangerous and terrifying than the attack by the Rhea people several years ago.

“Alright, I understand. Thank you for the warning, Lord Viscount.”

Viscount Bast’s expression suddenly turned serious and he gripped Byrne’s hand for a few seconds.

“Don’t talk recklessly about this, Byrne. You are a man with great potential, take care.”