Erael understood the gazes of the young chieftain, the villagers, and the woman who had arrived with them, all fixed on the corpse of the young man.
"No one knows what caused Seno's death. His body was so thoroughly destroyed that we have no idea how he actually perished—calling it 'horrific' might even be an understatement. It's as if he vanished entirely."
At the makeshift tribunal convened in the clearing before the chieftain's house, the villagers had gathered, all eyes on him.
"Therefore, I propose detaining the primary witness—and suspect—at the chieftain's house. Would that be acceptable?"
The chieftain fell silent at the woman's suggestion. He looked around at the villagers, holding his tongue until one man, unable to bear the pause, stepped forward.
"Why must he be locked up in the chief's house? We could just chase him out. He only came after this whole thing started."
The man’s impatience was clear in his tone. The woman replied with composed restraint.
"It's hard to believe that the massacre of the children and Seno's death are by the same hand. The fact that his remains disappeared—and that his end was so different from the other victims—points in another direction."
An older woman standing beside the first man chimed in.
"Not that I'm justifying it, but the corpse could have been dragged off by someone. He lived alone all his life; makes him an easy mark, don't you think?"
The dignified-looking woman gently grabbed the man's arm and pulled him back before adding cautiously:
"I feel sorry for Seno, but he never fit in with us. Look at that run-down shack by the alley—he never held steady work. He spent his days hunting animals for scraps or playing with the street kids. And remember the old man? Back then, no other children's corpses were found in the lanes, right? If the same person were responsible, we’d expect the same pattern."
The woman maintained her composure even at the rebuttal, her voice ringing with steely resolve.
"Just as the body vanished, perhaps another child was taken as well. And if you think about it, precisely because he’s both a stranger and, like me, an outsider, we must keep him here to fully resolve this matter."
"Are you serious?"
Contrary to expectation, the villagers remained silent at her declaration. Instead, Semi, standing beside her, asked in search of affirmation.
"Of course."
"Understood."
With their exchange concluded, the villagers dragged Erael into a storage shed and locked the door behind him.
"Where am I?"
"This is the village warehouse. The chieftain's house isn't like a proper hall with guest rooms—there’s nowhere to lock you up. So we put you here."
The merchant sat on a heap of straw atop a tanned hide, regarding Erael. He set his bundle aside, brushed straw from his hand, and held it out.
"So how do you intend to pay for these goods? And the woodcutter’s share is tree-fruit, by the way."
"I thought I’d already paid the price."
The men who had dragged Erael forward turned their eyes toward the merchant.
"Don’t talk nonsense. Did you forget that a man isn’t merchandise? Judging by how he was hauled in, this is all wrong. Hey, don’t you need something to tie him up?"
The rough-looking man clicked his tongue at the merchant’s words.
"No need for rope. And if you think you can sell your wares in village matters, think again. If you want to trade here, show proper conduct."
"Fine, if that’s what you think. But if he wriggles free, who’s to say? By the way, these stakes are what he ordered. Why not drive one in and tie him to it?"
The rough man nodded agreement. The merchant drew a stake from his bundle and slammed it into the floor with all his strength—it didn’t budge an inch.
The men shoved the merchant aside, pried the stake out, and buried it deep into the earth themselves.
"Isn’t this the woodcutter Seno’s stake? I heard he’s had no work lately, but seems he’s making things for outsiders now."
"Don’t be so hard on him. The lad has no food; he's suffering enough."
"Sure. Who told him to hole himself up in the forest? Serves him right."
The merchant glanced at the bound Erael and continued:
"It's not so much getting up as realizing that our earlier conversation carried weight. So tell me, how does it feel to be bound to the very object you ordered?"
"Not pleasant. It feels eerie, like something will come for me tonight. And I see no provisions to escape with."
"These days have been brutal. The children are dying one after another. We’re fortunate that the villagers remain safe. Had a few of them perished, would we be bothering to imprison you?"
"Hey. Before you spout more harsh words, if you plan on staying locked up with him, you can remain."
Once the merchant departed and the wooden door was firmly latched in the darkness of the warehouse, a figure concealed in the shadows approached Erael.
"Hey, why did you let them lock you up here on purpose?"
"Is it night outside? It's so dark I can't gauge the time."
The voice from the shadows replied, caught off guard.
"Right—the moon has risen, the sun has set, so it’s night. I answered your question; now answer mine: why are you locked in here?"
"Because they didn't know if I was the culprit or merely the first witness. They wanted to prevent further crime—and, incidentally, clear my name."
"That’s not the precise answer I'm looking for."
"Then shall we play twenty questions until I hit the answer you’re seeking?"
The shadow silently tossed a small pebble at his feet—an unmistakable sign of irritation.
"Alright. You’ll need someone to confirm it, too. Let’s proceed."
"The first trigger came from the person who spoke to the old man."
"No one—besides the chieftain—tried to approach us here."
"And the woman, likewise, never introduced us to the informant or met with them privately."
"The old man, remember? The one who held a grudge against the chieftain."
"Your reasoning just gets more convincing. Tell me—how could a dead man report his own death?"
The shadow flicked another pebble at Erael’s feet.
"The second clue was the chieftain's demeanor."
"Though he seems timid and indecisive, he makes decisions swiftly when it comes to what the villagers want—just like now. And he knew nothing about us. Even after living here, he never learned how to lean on a staff or the proper place to stand during the day. A wanderer’s habits aren’t shed—they’re like a disease; they never go away."
"It showed when we first met—you treated me like a passerby."
"Exactly. Wanderers rarely stop by unless sought. And considering when my father lived here, how many other wanderers would have visited this village?"
Two pebbles clattered at his feet.
"Twice—perhaps at your father’s wedding and at your birth? That would explain your ignorance."
"…Correct. I’ve never met anyone who claimed to be my father’s friend. The villagers were always aloof."
"The third clue came from the nature of the perpetrator."
"Vampires are, by nature, lunatics who fight for their existence. For one to carry out repeated crimes in the same place, there must be something compelling there. The same reasoning applies to the vanished or mutilated bodies—they never received the funeral rites they deserved."
"Because they ate them."
"Shall I praise you with 'correct answer'? To the villagers, killing and drinking blood felt like a cataclysm. But I realized then: this one was fundamentally different from us. That was the very reason I was granted permission to exist. Do you see why?"
"You’ve excluded the villagers themselves. The old man and Seno opposed you and concealed the body, right?"
"Right—Seno didn’t refuse to feed. When it came to his turn—or rather, his acquaintances—they tried to conceal it. Had they simply fallen outside the village like the woodcutters, they might have survived."
"The fourth clue was at the site where Seno died."
"He lay there with blood splattered in a starkly minimalist pattern. While it appeared brutal, he must have died before pain could etch his features into a mask of agony."
"That indicated his patience was nearly spent, didn’t it?"
"Exactly. He no longer wished to suffer at the hands of the villagers—or me. He must have intended to slaughter them all before departing."
"We’ll stop him, so rest easy and remain here."
The voice from the shadows chuckled softly.
"That’s going to be tough. You’re tied up right now, too."
"We’ll get to that child later. There’s still the rest of the story—who did what, how, and where. Now it’s your turn to explain why."
"Shall I?"
Erael hugged his bound wings closer and nodded, passing the turn to the shadow.
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