Gerald Hill’s voice thundered across the field.
“I know the killer is among you.”
“Come out now, and justice will fall only upon you.”
The gathered hunters immediately glanced toward one another with suspicion and unease, yet nobody stepped forward.
Silence stretched heavily across the field.
Gerald Hill continued coldly.
“Two days from now, an expert from Misty Lake Town will arrive.”
“The expert will identify the killer among you.”
Vergil’s heart nearly stopped.
A freezing chill spread rapidly through his body.
Yet around him, many villagers quietly released sighs of relief instead.
An expert?
To them, that sounded far preferable to torture or mass punishment.
A voice suddenly shouted from somewhere within the crowd.
“So we only have to stay here for two days?”
All eyes turned back toward the elevated platform.
Gerald Hill nodded once.
“Yes.”
A commotion immediately spread throughout the gathered villagers.
Most of them visibly relaxed, the heavy tension draining from their shoulders.
At the front of the crowd, someone suddenly shouted angrily.
“Your Hill Family has gone too far!”
“You’re causing all this over one dead son?!”
The entire field instantly quieted, a suffocating stillness settling over the crowd.
Gerald Hill slowly lowered his gaze toward the speaker.
His face became terrifyingly cold.
“It was not merely my son who died.”
His voice echoed like a hammer across the field.
“A hero was murdered.”
“If the killer is allowed to escape punishment…”
His sharp eyes swept across the crowd, freezing everyone they touched.
“Then who will dare help others in the future?”
Vergil’s face immediately displayed the same indignation and sympathy as everyone around him.
But inside, he cursed the Hill Family for eighteen generations.
He genuinely felt astonished by Gerald Hill’s shamelessness.
The man had reversed black and white so completely that even Vergil almost felt like the criminal they described.
Gerald Hill’s expression hardened further.
“If anyone attempts to flee…”
His voice dropped heavily, laden with murderous intent.
“I will personally execute them as the murderer of my son.”
The instant the words fell, a fierce, suffocating aura erupted from Gerald Hill’s body.
Vergil’s breathing faltered.
Even from the back of the crowd, he felt the invisible pressure slam directly into his chest.
It resembled the feeling of suddenly facing a massive tiger deep within the forest.
Pure, instinctive danger.
At that moment, Vergil also noticed movement around the field.
Hill Family guards had quietly appeared along every outer edge of the gathering.
Only now did he realise the entire area had already been completely surrounded.
Gerald Hill’s expression softened slightly, the oppressive aura receding.
“Do not worry.”
“If you are innocent, you may all leave after two days.”
“And every person here will receive one silver sterling as compensation.”
The effect of his words was immediate.
The crowd fell silent almost instantly.
For ordinary villagers, a single silver sterling was a significant sum of money.
A family of four could survive nearly an entire month using that amount alone.
Aside from Vergil, many people no longer felt particularly resistant toward staying.
But Vergil’s thoughts raced continuously.
Escape was nearly impossible now.
And the moment he fled, the Hill Family would instantly confirm him as the murderer.
No.
He needed another solution.
He had to find some way to force the Hill Family to release everyone before the expert arrived.
Gerald Hill raised a hand toward the nearby guards.
“Follow them.”
“They will take you to your accommodations.”
The crowd slowly began moving forward in long lines.
From the front, people gradually descended a sloped path leading deep into the mining pit.
When Vergil’s turn arrived, he silently followed behind Sam into the dark maw of the mine.
The deeper they walked, the colder the air became.
Dim lanterns hung at long intervals along the rough tunnels carved through dark stone walls.
Large chambers had been excavated at intervals throughout the mine, originally serving as sleeping quarters for miners.
Now they stood mostly empty.
Eventually, Vergil’s group was guided into one such room.
Twelve wooden beds filled the chamber, stacked in crude, double-layered bunks.
Among the occupants, nine came from White Fawn Village.
The remaining three belonged to nearby settlements.
As everyone settled inside, anxious conversations immediately broke out throughout the room.
Some cursed the Hill Family quietly.
Others discussed the mysterious expert coming from Misty Lake Town.
A few even speculated excitedly about the old rumours surrounding the Green Crystal Mountains.
Vergil remained silent the entire time.
He sat alone at the corner of a lower bunk, his elbows resting on his knees while his mind continuously calculated possible ways out of the situation.
Far above the dark mine tunnels, Gerald Hill entered a private room located on the second floor of a stone building overlooking the field from the side.
Inside sat a distraught, beautiful woman whose eyes were swollen red from crying.
Another older woman stood beside her, carefully tending to her condition.
Meanwhile, near the window stood a thin man wearing flowing robes.
He possessed a sharp, hawk-like nose and narrow eyes that carried an unsettling coldness.
Gerald Hill looked toward the robed man.
“Seamus,” he asked heavily.
“Who do you think the murderer is?”
Within Rock Hill Town, Seamus possessed considerable fame as a relentless bounty hunter.
Even with minimal clues, he had personally tracked and captured more than ten dangerous criminals over the years.
The distraught woman immediately lifted her tear-filled eyes toward him as well, clinging to any shred of hope.
Seamus remained silent briefly before speaking calmly.
“I cannot identify a single person among more than a hundred suspects.”
Gerald slowly nodded, his expression dark.
“That is understandable.”
Seamus folded his hands behind his back, staring out the window.
“However, I’ve already divided the suspects into three distinct categories.”
Gerald’s eyes sharpened slightly.
“Explain.”
Seamus spoke evenly, his voice devoid of emotion.
“The first category is mercenaries.”
Gerald frowned slightly.
“Why?”
Although he personally also considered passing mercenaries the most suspicious, he still wanted to hear the reasoning of a professional tracker.
Seamus replied calmly.
“Your son and his companions wore expensive, tailored clothing.”
“Ordinary villagers would instinctively avoid provoking wealthy young masters from a founding family.”
He paused briefly, adjusting his stance.
“If someone truly wanted to help the girl, most common villagers would either reveal themselves openly to beg, or create loud noise from hiding to scare the boys away.”
“But directly firing an arrow with immediate intent to kill…”
His narrow eyes darkened faintly.
“That requires a specific type of courage.”
Gerald slowly nodded, processing the logic.
Seamus continued.
“And the target was not a wild beast.”
“It was another human.”
Even if the human in question behaved worse than a wild beast, Seamus added silently in the privacy of his own mind.
Gerald crossed his arms, his jaw tightening.
“And the second category?”
Seamus narrowed his eyes slightly.
“Experienced older hunters.”
“The arrow recovered from the scene contained faint traces of inner energy.”
“Only someone who has already formed a solid Skill Seed could produce that level of lethal force.”
Gerald nodded again, his suspicions aligning.
“Yes.”
“If someone young had formed a Skill Seed, news would’ve spread throughout the surrounding border villages already.”
Seamus lowered his gaze silently, offering no contradiction.
In truth, he did not actually believe the killer was an older hunter.
Nor did he fully believe it was a mercenary.
If a true mercenary had stumbled upon the scene, all four boys would already be cold corpses lying in the dirt.
Mercenaries understood the harsh realities of the world too well.
A professional would have eliminated every single witness immediately to prevent a bounty and threatened the common girl into absolute silence afterwards.
An older, experienced hunter would also understand the crushing danger of murdering nobles from wealthy families.
Such a person would likely choose intimidation over cold-blooded murder.
Only someone young perfectly fits the profile of the behaviour.
Young enough to still possess a naive sense of justice.
Cautious enough to remain hidden in the foliage.
And inexperienced enough to believe killing one person would cleanly solve the situation without any ripples.
Seamus quietly suspected the murderer was a young villager hiding somewhere among the gathered hunters.
After several moments of heavy silence, Seamus finally turned toward the heavy wooden door.
Before leaving, Seamus suddenly paused and looked back.
“Mister Gerald,” he said casually.
“Where is the girl, Lily?”
“I’ll take her back with me when I return to town.”
The distraught, beautiful woman immediately stood up with a sharp shout.
“You cannot take her!”
Seamus slowly narrowed his eyes toward her.
Veronica Hill.
Wife of Gerald Hill, and the youngest daughter of the powerful Earl Diaz.
“Why not, my Lady?” Seamus asked calmly, his tone completely unbothered.
“Lily’s role in this public matter is already finished.”
Veronica’s face twisted with pure fury.
“My son died because of her!”
Her voice rose hysterically, echoing off the stone walls.
“I want her here.
I want her to kill her saviour with her own hands.”
A cruel, twisted grin suddenly spread across her face.
A cold chill quietly crawled down Seamus’s spine.
Without uttering another word toward the manic woman, the tracker turned his focus directly toward the head of the house.
“Mister Gerald,” Seamus said flatly.
“I’m taking the girl away.”
Then, he turned and walked toward the door.
“You cannot take her!”
Veronica immediately rushed after him, her silk dress rustling.
Gerald caught her firmly by the arm before she could pass the threshold.
The heavy wooden door slammed shut behind Seamus with a dull thud.
Veronica struggled violently against her husband’s hold for several moments.
“Gerald, release me!”
Gerald only tightened his grip, anchoring her to the floor.
“Calm down.”
His expression darkened heavily, his voice dropping to a low hiss.
“Do you even understand what you’re saying in front of outsiders?”
He continued coldly.
“If Seamus spreads the truth of this story outside our jurisdiction…”
“The Hill Family’s reputation will be utterly destroyed.”
Veronica finally shoved herself free from his grasp, stumbling back.
“Reputation?” she screamed, her voice cracking.
“Reputation?!”
“You only care about the Hill Family’s reputation!”
Her eyes burned with a volatile mix of fury and raw grief.
She pointed a trembling finger directly at Gerald’s face.
“If you fail to find my son’s killer within two days…”
“I’ll return to my family home.”
The threat hung heavily in the suffocating room.
Without waiting for a response, Veronica turned on her heel and stormed out.
The door slammed shut loudly behind her, rattling the hinges.
Gerald stared silently at the closed door for several long moments.
Finally, he turned toward the older woman who was still standing quietly in the corner.
“Follow her.”
“Don’t let her create more trouble.”
The older woman immediately bowed her head and slipped out of the room.
Silence returned to the chambers.
Gerald slowly lowered himself into a high-backed chair before rubbing his forehead heavily, exhaustion creeping into his bones.
He truly felt grief over Shawn’s death.
And intense anger.
But under these volatile circumstances, he could not afford to lose his reason.
Shawn may have been his only legitimate son with Veronica, but Gerald still possessed numerous illegitimate children born from various lovers throughout the years.
Several of them were far more talented and disciplined than Shawn had ever been.
If not for the looming shadow of Earl Diaz standing behind Veronica, Gerald would have already buried the truth entirely and quietly erased the scandal forever.
Meanwhile, deep within the dark mine tunnels, Vergil climbed onto the upper bunk in the crowded quarters.
Then, he quietly lay down and closed his eyes, letting his mind drift into the silent expanse of his Soul Space to scheme.