The fourth night had come, but it was no ordinary night. The mine was shrouded in a heavy aura of mystery and fear, and the slaves were in a constant state of anticipation, waiting for what would happen next.
Karon knew the time had come to take a decisive step. He had to uncover the killer by any means necessary. The number of victims that might fall along the way didn't matter to him—the real threat was not just a murderer hiding among the slaves, but something far greater.
He stood in the center of the yard, his eyes scanning the weary, frightened faces, before turning to one of his most trusted guards at his side.
"Have you made any progress?"
The guard slowly shook his head.
"The investigations suggest the killer was not a guard, but one of the slaves. The body was not killed by a single blow, but was tortured before receiving the fatal strike."
Karon showed no expression, though inside he boiled.
"So, the killer was slender…?"
The guard nodded.
"Yes, all the signs point to that. The wounds are precise, not the work of brute force. The killer was not physically strong, but swift and cunning."
Karon frowned slightly, then stared at the rows of slaves lined up before him. Their eyes were filled with fear, but some were calmer than others… and that caught his attention.
Slowly, he raised his hand, pointing at a group of slaves—all thin, but with eyes that carried different shades of fear, or perhaps forced composure.
"Bring those."
The guards moved quickly, dragging ten slaves into the center of the yard. Some trembled, while others tried to maintain a facade of calm.
But Karon was not looking for those who shook. He was looking for the one who pretended as if nothing had happened.
"You are here because one of you is the killer."
He spoke in a quiet voice, sharp as a blade. Then he turned to one of his guards and gave a quick signal.
Suddenly, the guards lunged, seizing one of the slaves at random, throwing him to the ground, and drawing a sharp knife.
"If the killer does not confess… we will begin killing each of you until he does."
The slave they had grabbed screamed, begging as the knife drew closer to his throat, but Karon showed no concern.
"You have ten seconds."
Tension thickened the air. The slaves' breathing grew heavier, sweat dripping from their brows.
But while everyone else was on edge… there was one who showed no unnatural reaction.
Adrias.
He stood silently, watching carefully, his eyes showing no fear. He did not tremble, nor did he display any anxiety like the others.
Karon noticed.
And then, slowly, he smiled.
"Stop everything."
He raised his hand, and the guards pulled back, the unfortunate slave collapsing onto the ground in tears.
Karon turned slowly, his gaze locking directly onto Adrias, his eyes piercing through the night's darkness.
"You… look far too calm."
A heavy silence filled the air.
Karon stepped forward, closer and closer, until his face was only inches away from Adrias'.
"Why don't you tremble like the others?"
This was the true test.
Either Adrias maintained absolute composure… or he revealed the slightest crack that could condemn him.
But Adrias was not someone so easily broken.
Slowly, he lifted his head, his eyes glimmering with intelligence and danger, meeting Karon's unflinchingly.
Then, with a faint, cold smile barely visible, he whispered softly:
"Because I am not afraid of you."
…
…
…
Karon showed no expression at Adrias' words, but something in the air shifted. Slaves and guards alike held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.
"You are not afraid?"
Karon repeated the words slowly, as if tasting them, trying to dissect the meaning behind them.
Adrias did not answer right away. His eyes remained locked, his expression unchanged. He knew one wrong word could put him in danger, but he also had no intention of dying here—not now.
He inhaled deeply, then spoke in a low but steady voice:
"If I were the killer, would I have left the body in plain sight to be found?"
A silence fell. Karon did not reply.
Adrias continued:
"All the guards are well-trained, are they not? It wouldn't be easy for a weak slave to kill a guard stronger than him, then leave the body out in the open. If I were the killer, I would have hidden it more cleverly, wouldn't I?"
Karon studied him, his eyes analyzing every word. It was true—but not enough.
"And what about the blood? The way the guard was killed wasn't a single strike, but torture. Do you think a weak slave could do that without leaving a trace?"
Adrias smiled inwardly. He had already prepared for this.
"Did you find any bloodstained clothing? Any missing weapons from the guards? Any slaves showing signs of a struggle?"
Karon narrowed his eyes slightly.
"No."
"Then is it truly reasonable to think the killer was one of the slaves? Especially when we all know this place is filled with mysteries, with strange creatures the rumors always speak of?"
Karon was silent for a moment, thinking. It was true—the mine was infamous for its mysteries, and many stories told of guards and slaves vanishing without a trace. But this time there was a real corpse, a real murder.
Still, there was no clear evidence to condemn Adrias.
Karon was not a man who made decisions based on suspicion alone. He wanted the truth, and he was no fool to kill someone simply because he "felt" they were suspicious.
He exhaled slowly, then turned his back.
"Watch him."
Those were his final words before leaving, the guards driving the slaves back to their work.
But Adrias knew… he had survived this time, yet the suspicions were not erased. Karon was still watching him, waiting for the slightest slip.
And that meant only one thing…
He had to be more careful.
And he had to grow stronger… as quickly as possible.
To be continued…