Night had fallen, but the mine was far from quiet. The tension in the air was like a sharp knife cutting into anyone who dared to breathe. The only sounds were the heavy footsteps echoing through the tunnels as the guards scoured every corner, searching among the slaves like hungry wolves hunting their prey.
Karon stood in the center of the square, his eyes narrowing coldly as he observed the scene. In front of him, the captain stood grim-faced, holding a list of names.
"We searched all the guards. No weapons are missing."
Karon nodded. That was expected.
"And what about the slaves?"
The captain sighed, then gestured toward a group of slaves separated from the others.
"These are the most suspicious. Some acted strangely after the body was found, and others were in places they shouldn't have been on the night Morgan died."
Karon walked slowly toward the group, his eyes scanning each face intently.
"Very well..."
He cast a long look at one of the slaves, a large man who was trembling slightly.
"You. Tell me where you were the night Morgan was killed."
The man swallowed hard, his voice hoarse:
"I… I was in my usual spot, sir. I never left it!"
Karon said nothing, merely raised his hand. Instantly, one of the guards moved in, grabbed the man by force, and shoved him to the ground.
"If you're innocent, then you won't mind a little questioning."
The man began to plead, but one of the guards raised his sword and slowly ran it across the man's arm—a shallow scratch… but enough to make him scream.
"I swear! I swear I didn't do anything! I don't know who killed the guard!"
Karon didn't believe him.
But he wasn't the culprit.
Adrias had been watching all of this silently, his eyes half-closed as he assessed the situation. He had expected the investigation to begin, but he hadn't anticipated they would turn to violence so quickly.
And as the slaves watched in terror, one of them began to speak in a trembling voice:
"I… I saw something else…"
Karon slowly turned to him, his face expressionless.
"Speak."
The slave, a thin young man who looked like he hadn't eaten in days, swallowed hard and said in a low voice:
"On the night Morgan died… I saw someone return to our sleeping area very late."
Karon raised an eyebrow.
"Who was it?"
The boy hesitated, then replied fearfully:
"I didn't see his face clearly… but his clothes were stained with something dark…"
Silence fell over the place.
Karon slowly stepped closer, then spoke in a low voice that hissed like a snake:
"And where exactly did you see him?"
The boy pointed to a corridor at the edge of the square.
Karon turned to the captain.
"Take a group of men. Search the area thoroughly. Look for any evidence, even if it's just a small stain."
---
As the guards began to search the area, Adrias sat in a dark corner, his fingers clenched tightly into his palms.
He had been very close to becoming a suspect.
But he wasn't worried… not yet.
The truth was, this body was weak, but it had something he never had in his previous life: the ability to disappear in a crowd.
In his past life as an emperor, he was always at the center of attention. But now, he was just another slave… and he could use that.
But what intrigued him more than the investigation was that black sword…
He had felt something strange when he hid it inside his body. As if there was a dormant entity within it, waiting to be awakened.
But now was not the time for that.
For now, he just needed to stay calm and let the investigation run its course…
At least until he found a way to eliminate any evidence that might lead back to him.
...
...
The investigation took a darker, more brutal turn.
The guards roamed the tunnels like hyenas smelling blood, combing the ground for any trace, any clue that might lead to the killer. Slavery in this place wasn't just exploitation—it was a slow death sentence. But killing a guard? That was a breach of the laws that held this entire system together.
Karon stood at the center of the square, his eyes scanning the slaves one by one. He had ordered the guards to search the clothing, hands, even fingernails for any trace of blood. But he knew the killer wouldn't be foolish enough to leave such obvious evidence.
One of the guards returned minutes later, his face slightly pale, as if he had seen something he shouldn't have.
"Sir, we found something."
Karon didn't react immediately but followed him silently, while the other guards began to gather the slaves back in the square.
In one of the far tunnels, where the air was thick with the stench of metal and sweat, there was a dried bloodstain on the ground. Beside it was a faint footprint—as if someone had slipped for a moment before regaining their balance.
Karon crouched slowly, his fingers touching the dried blood before raising his hand to examine it.
"Not Morgan's blood."
The guard who discovered it swallowed hard.
"How do you know, sir?"
Karon looked at him with a hollow expression.
"Morgan's blood should've been… thicker. This stain is too small for someone who bled to death."
Then he slowly raised his gaze, staring into the dark tunnel.
"Which means someone else bled here…"
A slave? Or the killer himself?
Karon didn't like guesses. He believed in clear evidence, and he knew exactly what needed to be done to extract the truth.
He turned and walked slowly toward the gathered slaves. His eyes scanned them again, searching for the smallest sign, any indication, anyone looking a little too nervous.
"Who among you is injured?"
Silence fell.
Karon waited for a few seconds, then raised his hand.
"Anyone who doesn't answer will be searched by force."
The silence lingered, but he knew that sometimes, silence was louder than words.
"Very well then."
He gestured to the guards, who began pulling the slaves one by one, forcing them to remove their worn shirts, searching for any fresh wounds or bruises.
One of the slaves, a pale, thin man, began to tremble as a guard approached him.
Karon noticed immediately.
"You."
The man froze, sweat pouring down his forehead.
"Come here."
The guards dragged him forward as Karon gave him a cold stare.
"Lift your shirt."
The man bit his lip hard, then slowly lifted his filthy shirt, revealing a long wound on his side. It looked like a shallow stab—not fatal, but fresh.
Karon said nothing. He simply walked up to him, knelt, and examined the wound closely.
"How did you get this?"
The man swallowed, eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.
"Si-sir… I tripped and fell on one of the sharp rocks!"
Karon showed no emotion, but slowly raised his hand and pressed a finger hard into the wound.
The man let out a stifled cry, his body convulsing in pain.
"On a rock, you say?"
Karon pressed harder, making the man groan again.
"And are the rocks here sharp enough to leave a wound that looks like a knife cut?"
The man didn't respond—just gasped, sweat pouring from his face.
Karon stood up and signaled the guards.
"Take him."
They didn't hesitate. They lifted him and dragged him away as Karon turned to the rest of the slaves.
"Does anyone wish to confess anything before we begin harsher methods?"
Silence settled once more.
But Adrias, standing in the back, was watching it all calmly.
He had seen the look in Karon's eyes… he knew.
Karon didn't think the thin man was the killer.
He knew someone else was behind it—someone smarter, more cunning.
Which meant… the game had only just begun.