Detective in Another World: Solving Crimes with Necromancer System

The morning sun crept through the narrow cracks of the wooden shutters, golden light spilling across the small room. Edward stirred as the warmth brushed his face, his eyes fluttering open.

For a moment, he stared at the ceiling, the faint sound of birdsong drifting through the window.

Then, without warning, he sat up.

His body felt… different. Not tired or stiff like it usually did after a short night's sleep, but strangely light—energised even. Almost as if he had slept for days rather than just few hours.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to piece together the scattered fragments of last night. The dinner with the elven royalty… the sudden death of Elandir… and that old elf...

"Thyrion," he muttered under his breath once the name finally clicked.

Edward frowned, leaning back against the headboard. The memory of that tea and the bizarre, distorted place he had seen still lingered in his mind. It felt too real to be a dream, yet too impossible to be anything else.

"Probably some kind of hallucination," he said to himself, nodding firmly as though that explanation made sense.

With a sigh, he swung his legs off the bed and stood, the wooden floor cool against his bare feet. He stretched, grabbed his outer coat, and began getting dressed. The air inside the room was calm, almost too calm, as if the world outside had paused for him.

But when he stepped through the door, the illusion shattered instantly.

Arthur sat at the table in the small living space, sipping what looked like hot herbal tea. Standing beside him, arms crossed, one foot tapping impatiently, was Elarien.

Edward blinked, still halfway in his sleepy haze. "Morning…?" he said, shocked to see her there.

Elarien's sharp green eyes locked onto him. "Is this how long humans usually sleep for?" she asked, her tone flat but carrying an unmistakable edge.

Edward stopped mid-step, his brows knitting together. His gaze shifted to Arthur for help, but the prince only offered an apologetic smile and calmly took another sip of his drink.

"Normally," Edward said after a moment, "they sleep even longer."

He thought he saw Elarien's hand twitch slightly, but she took a breath and forced herself to relax. Her voice, when she spoke again, was calm. "Come. We don't have time to waste."

Without another word, she turned toward the door.

Edward stood there for a second, glancing between her and Arthur.

"Do elves not sleep or something?" he muttered, following after her.

But no answer came to his question.

By the time he caught up, they were already outside. The morning air was fresh, carrying a faint floral scent that only existed in elven lands. The city streets were quieter now, the soft hum of life returning as sunlight spilt across the marble paths and vine-wrapped towers.

"Where are we going, anyway?" Edward asked, trying to match her pace.

"To look for Vael," she said curtly. "Where else?"

"Didn't you say you knew almost every elf in this city—and none of them were named that?"

"That's why we're not looking in this city."

Edward blinked. "We're leaving the city?"

"Yes."

He visibly lingered on that answer.

"Do you have any problem with that?" she asked without slowing her pace.

"Not really," Edward replied, though his thoughts flickered to Aeris and Seraphine. " But they might." he thought.

Back in the chambers where Edward and Arthur had stayed, the mood was anything but calm.

Seraphine's voice sliced through the quiet like a blade. "He left with who?!"

Her words echoed off the walls, sharp enough to make Arthur wince. Aeris stood beside her, wide-eyed, clearly taken aback by the prince's confession.

Arthur raised both hands in surrender, his tone caught somewhere between guilt and disbelief. "She came here this morning to get him. He's helping her investigate her brother's murder—"

"If that elf died here, then why do they need to travel outside the city?" Seraphine snapped, stepping closer. "Just the two of them, nonetheless!"

"Seraphine, please," Aeris said softly, though there was a dangerous undertone to her calm voice. "It's not Arthur's fault." Her eyes narrowed slightly. "It's Edward's. We should go after them and—"

"No, please," Arthur interrupted quickly, setting his cup down. "It's important we improve relations with the elves. That's why I asked him to help Elarien. If he helps find her brother's killer, it could change everything."

"Why can't we go with them, then?" Seraphine pressed. Her hands were clenched into fists, her voice trembling with frustration more than anger.

Arthur let out a long, weary sigh. "Because even I don't have permission to leave the city." His expression hardened. "We're guests here, yes—but if we step out of line even a little…"

He drew a finger across his throat in a slow, grim gesture.

The room fell silent.

"Humans have caused too much grief for them over the centuries," Arthur continued quietly. "Every step we take here is being watched. If Edward helping Elarien brings her family peace, it might be the first real step toward trust."

Seraphine lowered her gaze, jaw tight. The thought of Edward wandering outside the city walls with some elf girl filled her with unease. Still, there was little she could say against the prince's reasoning.

Aeris's expression, however, remained unreadable. She folded her arms, her gaze drifting toward the window where the morning light streamed in. "Then let's hope he knows what he's doing," she murmured.

Arthur gave a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes. "He usually does."

But even as he said it, he couldn't shake the unease in his chest.

Meanwhile, far from the city walls, Edward followed Elarien through a narrow forest path. Sunlight filtered through the tall canopies, painting shifting patterns of gold on the ground. Every sound, the rustle of leaves, the distant call of birds, felt amplified in the stillness of the forest around them.

"So," Edward said finally, breaking the silence, "are you going to tell me where exactly we're going, or am I just here to carry things?"

Elarien shot him a sidelong glance. "If you can keep up, I'll consider telling you."

He smirked. "You know, for someone asking for help, you're not exactly—"

"Quiet," she hissed suddenly, raising a hand.

Edward froze, his words dying in his throat.

For a moment, there was only silence—then a faint sound echoed through the trees. Barely audible, yet distinct enough to be real.

Elarien's eyes narrowed. "We're not alone."

Edward's hand instinctively went to his side, where his blade should have been. The air grew still, unnaturally so.

A low breeze swept through the forest, carrying with it a whisper of movement—soft, barely there, but unmistakably close.

Elarien turned slowly, her gaze fixed on the shadows ahead.

Leaves rustled as something moved between the trees.