Owen Dyson quietly gazed at the stone bed, watching as the black-robed creature turned into a pool of murky seawater, flowing around the stone bed.
When the murky seawater reached the ground, he stepped back half a step without expression, avoiding the liquid from staining his boots.
A smell mixed with the stench of seaweed and mud spread throughout the chamber.
"Can you track his soul?" Earl Owen turned his head and asked the mage in charge here.
"The soul has disappeared," replied the mage dressed in a moon-patterned magic robe, sketching a complex magic symbol on his chest, his eyes glinting faintly with silver light as he scanned the entire chamber and shook his head, "but it didn't vanish instantly—there are no remnants here, that soul seems to have been taken by something."
