WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Dionysus
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
◈ The Wizard's Memoir ◈
Chapter 25: Evidence
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On the northwestern edge of Northern Ridge, a stretch of land stuck out like a camel's hump.
It formed a strange bulge in the city's boundary, and its buildings rose well above the average height. Everything about it seemed to declare, “I'm somewhere special.”
“The Heart of the Mountain.”
It was indeed an important place. A castle within the castle walls, it was the citadel where the lord lived.
The citadel's walls formed part of the city walls, but they were roughly twice as high, making it look like a separate fortress. Inside stood one keep and seven towers, connected by raised walkways on the second or third floor.
According to Rolf, who had experience in war, taking the place would be difficult enough to require some filthy language.
“It's also called the Heart of the Ridge. It's the oldest and most beautiful castle in the north.”
The latter name did seem more fitting for Northern Ridge, a city on a northern ridge.
The administrator showed great pride in their workplace. That wasn't a feeling someone developed overnight. They seemed to belong to a family of retainers that had served here for generations. In human society, inheriting a parent's occupation was perfectly natural.
“How was the margrave murdered?”
That pride made their master's death all the more shameful and painful. The administrator's mood darkened at once, and they hung their head.
“The killer struck in his bedchamber. He was asleep and couldn't even resist. Those pointy-ears are worse than dogs...”
Olivia's party glanced uneasily at the elf walking ahead. The administrator continued regardless.
“When the lady screamed, the killer dropped the knife and fled through the window. The guards pursued relentlessly, but lost the trail in the city alleys. They say the killer was too light on their feet and knew the back streets too well to catch.”
“What evidence is there that it was an elf?”
“The hood came off when the killer jumped onto a roof. At least three people saw it, so it can hardly be a lie.”
With that much evidence, it would have been stranger not to suspect an elf. What elf could have done something so terrible? As Etran pondered the question with a hand against their chin, they reached the gates of the Heart of the Mountain.
Despite the sun being high in the sky, the portcullis was down and two platoons, roughly forty soldiers, stood guard, reflecting the grim mood.
“Open the gate!”
At the gatekeeper's signal, the heavy iron grille slowly rose. Perhaps it was the harsh grinding of metal, but it felt like entering a battlefield. In that case, the first step would be to win over the commander.
“Who's acting in the lord's place?”
“His eldest son, Viscount Leopold.”
Since he already held a title, he must have been the eldest legitimate son and heir. Once he had held his father's funeral and received his vassals' oaths of loyalty, he would become margrave.
“We should pay our respects first. Would you tell him that Etran Griff requests an audience?”
@
Etran handled the meeting cleverly.
They offered condolences in the name of the Griff family while quietly defending the Guild's position. The replies were sharp, perhaps because the viscount's nerves were on edge, but they were understandable from someone whose father had been murdered. In any case, Etran achieved something.
Entry to and exit from the city remained restricted, but the confinement and surveillance at the Guild Pub were lifted.
The elf Merial was not detained either. Only their alibi was investigated. Olivia and Dahlia's testimony that they had seen Merial drinking at the first-floor bar helped a little.
The authorities hadn't entirely dismissed the possibility that people in the same line of work had agreed on a story. Still, Merial moved down the list of leading suspects. Several other elves had also been brought in.
“This isn't going to solve anything...”
The investigation still proceeded on the assumption that the culprit was an elf. Etran thought narrowing their view like that was a poor move. Having become involved in the case, they decided to dig a little deeper.
“I'd like to examine the scene. Could you show me around?”
The administrator looked troubled and said they would ask. It could be considered rude, since it encroached on the lord's judicial authority. Fortunately, permission was granted. It seemed the viscount was determined to catch the culprit, even if that meant accepting outside help.
Etran first examined the bedchamber where the assassination had taken place. It was on the keep's third floor, deep within the citadel.
“So this is the window.”
Castle windows were usually narrow for military reasons, but this one was unusually large, perhaps because it belonged to the lord's bedchamber.
Then again, a hundred years had passed since war had vanished from the north. That was too long to keep a fighting spirit alive. And if both the outer and inner walls had fallen and arrows were flying this far inside, one window probably wouldn't make much difference.
‘Though it did get him killed...’
Avoiding the broken fragments, Etran looked down from the window. It was on the third floor, but the actual height was closer to five or six stories. No ordinary person could climb up or down from there.
“Have you learned anything?”
“I'm not sure. Let's keep looking.”
After casting a spell, Etran jumped out of the window. Forgetting their advanced age, the administrator screamed. Olivia and Dahlia held their stomachs and laughed. Contrary to what the administrator imagined, it wasn't a suicide attempt. Etran sat on the Floating Disc and began examining the outside.
“Y-you, you could have warned me!”
Etran made an apologetic gesture and rose to the roof. There, they found a mark on the battlements. Stone dust came away from it, suggesting it was fairly recent.
“As I thought, it wasn't Merial.”
The unknown assassin hadn't climbed up from the ground. They had secured a hook above and climbed down. A Wizard who could even command spirits had no reason to do something so dangerous. Even Etran could have slipped inside on the disc.
“Which way did the killer run?”
A soldier who had rushed over after hearing the lady's scream showed them the route. The darkness had made the pursuers lose sight of the assassin from time to time, but the direction of escape had remained consistent. The killer had passed the hay barn and the stables, pulled a soldier down from a watchtower, then gone over the wall.
“Was it very dark?”
“Pitch-black. There was no moon. We didn't have time to get torches ready, either.”
Etran continued tracing the escape route. They went down the slope in front of the castle and turned through several alleys. Finally, they reached the two-story shack where the assassin had last been seen.
“Was this where the hood came off?”
“That's right. My friends and I saw it clearly.”
Etran frowned up at the shack. A shadowed alley entrance on a moonless night. The thought alone was chilling.
“At the Ancestors' Graveyard...”
“Hm?”
At Etran's mention of the past, Olivia, who had been hiding a yawn, snapped their mouth shut in surprise. The remark hadn't been directed at anyone in particular.
“We thought the culprit was human, but it turned out to be a demon mage.”
At Etran's muttering, Dahlia slapped their back with a loud Smack!
“You think it's a demon again? What are you, some kind of racist? Do you think the lady and the mercenaries wouldn't recognize a race that big?”
The leather armor proved useful for the first time. Etran was perfectly fine, while Dahlia clutched a stinging palm.
“Elves have no reason to commit murder. They're not that hardworking, either.”
Rolf smiled at Etran's revelation of the truth.
Most adventurers who had dealt with elves would agree. With lifespans close to endless, elves could rarely be bothered to do anything. They were rather like sloths that lived an absurdly long time. Otherwise, they would have ruled the world long ago.
“But the killer had elven features...”
“There's a race that looks like elves without being elves, isn't there?”
“Half-elves?”
Olivia and the other adventurers thought of the tavern keeper. But half-elves were much rarer than elves, and they inherited enough human traits to be heavier on their feet. Since the party still hadn't caught on after a hint, Etran simply revealed their suspicion.
“It could have been a fallen elf.”
They were sometimes called that, but they had another, more common name.
“...A dark elf?”
@
Just as humans were divided into regional ethnic groups and fought pagans, cultists, and barbarian tribes, elves were split into tribes that came into conflict.
“A dark elf!”
They were dark, not black. Their skin was darker than that of the wood elves, who formed the majority, but it was gray or brown rather than black. In other words, no one could tell them apart at a glance on a moonless night.
“Why would such a monster murder my father?”
There was another point. These elves did not belong to the Alliance. In human terms, they were similar to the barbarian tribes far to the east. They weren't even treated as the same species.
“It's only a possibility. But it's worth considering.”
They had one more thing in common with the barbarians: mages were extremely rare among them. They had shamans born with a natural gift, but they couldn't use the magical spells that required advanced education.
Based on the physical evidence Etran had found and a fresh review of the testimony, the possibility of a dark elf's involvement couldn't be ignored.
Viscount Leopold, acting in the lord's place, pressed a hand to his forehead and groaned. It felt as though even the one lead he had was gone. Still, he wasn't so incompetent that he couldn't tell determination from blind stubbornness.
“Do you have evidence that there's a dark elf in this city?”
“Not yet.”
“Not yet? Then what?”
Etran glanced to either side. Olivia and Dahlia stood on the right, Rolf and Merial on the left. These were companions Etran could trust and rely on in any situation. And Etran knew a place with plenty more people like them. Like the administrator earlier, Etran added a spoonful of pride in their own workplace.
“Why not leave it to the experts?”
@
An enormous request landed at the Adventurers' Guild.
They were to capture the assassin who had murdered Margrave Leopold and thrown the north into turmoil, and bring the culprit back alive.
“After they treated us like suspects!”
...The reward was too tempting for anyone to stay angry. Capturing the killer alive and obtaining a confession would earn 100,000 dena. Even a corpse would fetch 30,000 dena if there was enough evidence.
“Do adventurers usually handle this sort of thing? Isn't it a job for the city guard?”
“They say the assassin's a dark elf.”
“Then it is our job.”
Adventurers specialized in dealing with monsters and other races. Established parties got to work, while lone adventurers quickly formed groups and joined in.
Places where someone could hide their identity and move about unseen were raided all at once. To be specific, these included brothels, sewers, gang hideouts, smugglers' dens, and so on. Plenty of unavoidable incidents and accidents occurred along the way, but the acting lord supported the effort by turning a blind eye.
“Looks like the gangs are getting wiped out.”
Thugs who only swaggered around when dealing with market merchants had no hope against seasoned fighters who had been through everything. It was quite a sight to see the underworld crumble in an instant before the combined might of the lord and the Guild.
“Shouldn't we be doing something too?”
Yet the party that had set all this in motion was taking it easy at the Guild Pub. It wasn't because they were brimming with confidence or had a foolproof plan.
“We don't know our way around here.”
They simply knew nothing, having only recently arrived in Northern Ridge. They didn't know where to look, what to look for, whom to meet, or what to ask for. They couldn't even begin an investigation.
“Did we do all the work just to let some kobold walk off with the prize?”
Dahlia's impatience had grown into outright anger. But Olivia, Rolf, and Etran, who hadn't been particularly greedy to begin with, felt no urgency at all.
“As long as the case gets solved, that's a good thing.”
“Just look at this kid, taking it easy because you're rich.”
“I keep telling you, I'm not rich...”
Muttering, Etran tipped back the glass of milk. Just then, a welcome visitor arrived.
“The Guild's unusually quiet. Has everyone gone off to catch gangsters?”
It was their one-armed friend, who had retired from adventuring but still belonged to the Guild. Sporting a white mustache of milk, Etran called out in delight.
“Johann!”
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