Dyren nearly punched the old man in the face, but someone stopped him. He glanced over, and what he suspected was true. The one person he least wanted to see during this investigation.
"Why would you hit a weak old man?" Kael asked, staring sharply at Dyren. "I knew it. You're not a good person. I should've kicked you out from the start."
Dyren pulled his hand back. His eyes filled with irritation. He turned away without saying a word and walked off. He was heading to the village chief's house. If he stayed, he'd be forced to see Kael's annoying face.
Kael grabbed Dyren's shoulder. "Stop right there! Apologize first, or—"
Unintentionally, Dyren released a large surge of Mana. The resulting gust of wind was powerful. Kael immediately stepped back and let go of him. His face clearly showed shock. Dyren didn't even glance back, continuing to walk away until he vanished in seconds.
Kael stood frozen. For quite a while.
"I knew it. He's not as weak as he looks. Don't tell me… he's the one who kidnapped Ereon?" Kael's eyes widened. He tried to chase after Dyren, but something touched his shoulder.
"What the—"
Before he could finish, an overwhelming drowsiness overtook him. His body stiffened, and he collapsed unconscious. A small tranquilizer needle had pierced his back. It was so tiny, he hadn't noticed it at all.
***
Dyren arrived at the village chief's house. As he got there, he was greeted by a beautiful woman around 26 years old. She had black eyes, wavy black hair, and an ideal figure. She was stunning—exactly the kind of woman Dyren liked.
But that wasn't the reason he came. He showed his respect.
"May I meet with the Village Chief?" Dyren asked politely.
The woman opened the door wider. "Please come in! My father stepped out for a bit. He should be back in a few minutes. You may wait inside."
Her voice was soft and courteous. Just as Dyren imagined. Yet he'd never known the village chief had a daughter. That surprised him. Even more surprising—his daughter was beautiful.
So different from the village chief, whose hair only grew halfway down the back of his head while the front was bald and shiny. He had a thin body and red eyes. Dyren couldn't believe the woman in front of him was his daughter.
"Sir, are you alright?" the woman asked.
Dyren quickly shook his head. He had spaced out quite a bit. "Ah, alright then. I'll come in."
Dyren stepped inside. The woman followed. As Dyren sat on the guest couch, the woman went to make some tea.
Dyren examined the surroundings, studying every corner of the room. Among the decorative items, he spotted several jars and small statues that looked like antiques. Based on his observations, one of them might be worth around 10 Tharven Gold.
In this world, there were three primary coin types: Thorne, Tharv, and the highest, Tharven Gold. One Tharven Gold equaled 100 Tharv coins or 10,000 Thorne coins.
That meant the village chief wasn't an ordinary person. Owning an antique jar worth 10 Tharven Gold was surprising, especially in a village inhabited by a handful of farmers and herders—countable on one hand.
"This doesn't make sense. Where did he get all this?" Dyren muttered.
He leaned back. He started thinking, but no explanation came to mind. After just ten minutes of waiting, Dyren began to get bored. Not long, but he had no other purpose than to speak with the chief.
Dyren glanced toward the kitchen door. "Was my suspicion right? Is the village chief behind Ereon's disappearance?"
It started to make sense. Maybe the chief kidnapped outsiders who came to this village and sold them. That would explain how he could be so wealthy in a small rural town.
"That has to be it. He's definitely suspicious."
"What's suspicious?" someone asked suddenly.
Dyren turned—and to his shock, it was the Village Chief. He took off his fur coat and laid it on the table. Then he sat across from Dyren. They now faced each other.
"Who were you calling suspicious?" the chief asked again.
Dyren felt a bit awkward. He took a deep breath to calm himself. Once composed, he met the village chief's gaze seriously.
"You've heard that Ereon disappeared yesterday, haven't you? The last place we know he visited… was here. Isn't that suspicious?" Dyren asked directly, no fluff.
The chief didn't panic. In fact, he remained calm. Far too calm for someone being accused.
"Ereon never came here."
"But you could be lying. There's no proof Ereon didn't come. What if he did and got drugged by you?" Dyren accused.
The chief raised his eyebrows, still calmly sitting like Dyren's words were a passing breeze. He crossed his legs and leaned back in his seat.
"Quite the accusation, Mr. Dyren. Do you really think I—a humble chief of a peaceful village—would dare kidnap a Hero?"
Dyren leaned forward. "I don't care if this village is peaceful or not. What I know is: Ereon was last seen heading here, and now he's missing. And this house is filled with luxury items in the middle of a poor farming village. Isn't that odd? You don't have an illegal business, do you?"
The chief gave a slight smile. "Maybe you've read too many mystery novels, Mr. Dyren. You're quite skilled at throwing accusations."
"I'm just following my logic. Your home contains an antique jar worth ten Tharven Gold. That's not something an average village chief would own. Even minor nobles might not have one. And you keep it out in the open, not in a vault. That means you're not afraid of it being stolen, or... no one dares steal from you because they know who you really are."
The chief's smile vanished for a second. Just briefly—but enough for Dyren to catch it. The chief adjusted his posture.
The woman returned with a teapot and two small cups. She bowed lightly before leaving the room again.
The chief picked up a teacup and sipped slowly.
"I don't know where you learned the value of my items. But everything you see was a gift from travelers who came here to hunt monsters. Many liked to leave souvenirs for the village. Besides, who would go through the trouble of kidnapping someone just for a… jar? And we're talking about a Hero. My life would be the price."
"Then," Dyren stared straight into the chief's eyes, "may I search your entire house?"
The chief put down his cup. "Absolutely not."
"Why not?"
"Because this is my private home. You're neither a city guard nor a noble. You have no right to ransack someone's home over baseless suspicion."
"But I'm the Hero's friend. That gives me equal standing to a noble," Dyren insisted.
The chief laughed heartily at that, before his face turned serious. "Mr. Dyren, do you really think I don't know you're a Necromancer? I even know what your true goal in this village is."
Dyren's eyes widened. He was caught off guard. His face turned serious. "How do you know?"