Detective in Another World: Solving Crimes with Necromancer System

The chamber was vast, larger than anything Edward had expected to find beneath the mountain. His lantern's dim light spilt outward, brushing across towering pillars and walls carved with endless engravings. The air felt heavy here, old and still, as though the mountain itself was holding its breath.

He stepped forward slowly, boots echoing against the smooth stone floor. The chamber stretched in every direction, its walls disappearing into shadow. Every surface was marked with symbols, circles, and spiralling lines that wound together in strange patterns that made his eyes ache if he stared too long.

In the centre stood a single altar.

It was small, only waist-high, but every inch of its surface was covered in the same ancient carvings. There was no dust, no offerings, no relics, only the cold, empty stone.

"Some of this looks similar to elvish," Elarien murmured as she stepped closer to one of the walls, fingers tracing the lines. "But not enough to make any sense of it."

Edward frowned. "A language not known to anyone?"

"Perhaps not anymore." Her eyes drifted across the endless markings, their faint silver glow reflecting in her pupils. "Even the oldest records speak nothing of this."

Edward followed her gaze, wondering what civilisation could have existed before the elves. Before anything, they knew. The thought sent a chill crawling down his spine.

They circled the walls first, searching for any clue, but the carvings revealed nothing, only patterns that led nowhere and lines that seemed to move if he looked too long. When they reached the centre again, they stood before the altar.

The engravings along the floor stretched toward it like veins. Still, nothing sat upon it.

"Weird," Edward muttered, mostly to himself.

"Can't disagree," Elarien said quietly.

He hesitated, then reached out, his fingers hovering just above the stone. A low hum filled the air, like the sound of wind trapped inside the rock. He ignored it.

"Wait." Elarien's hand shot out, gripping his wrist. "What if it's a trap?"

Edward paused, glancing at her. "A trap? For who? There's nothing here."

Her grip tightened slightly. "That's exactly why it worries me."

He gave a small, uncertain smile. "If it were a trap, wouldn't there be gold or something worth protecting?"

Before she could stop him again, he slipped free and pressed his palm to the altar.

A shockwave burst outward.

It wasn't sound, it was more like a sensation. It felt like lightning running through his body, every nerve set ablaze. Edward gasped and yanked his hand back, stumbling a step.

"What the hell was that?" he hissed, turning toward Elarien.

But she didn't move.

Her body stood frozen mid-motion, eyes half-open, mouth slightly parted. Even her hair, caught mid-sway, hung still in the air.

"Elarien?" Edward's voice cracked as he stepped closer. No response. He placed a hand on her shoulder and shook gently. Nothing. She was motionless, like a statue carved from living flesh.

He spun around, heart pounding. The air had changed. It felt thicker, colder.

Then a voice spoke.

"Ahh… it has been… millenniums… but finally…"

Edward's head snapped toward the sound.

At the far edge of the chamber, a shadow had taken form, a tall, wavering figure without shape or face. Its presence seemed to bend the air around it.

"Who—" Edward began, but the voice cut him off.

"You found it," the shadow said.

"Found what?" His hand went to his blade, though instinct told him it wouldn't matter.

The figure tilted its head, as if studying him. "You're not… who are you?"

"Edward," he said cautiously. "We stumbled here by accident."

"Accident?" The voice echoed with quiet amusement. "The hand of fate allows no accidents."

Edward frowned. "The hand of what?"

But the being ignored him, drifting closer, its form rippling like smoke. "What is this place?" he demanded, his voice rising slightly.

"A tomb," it answered. "A storage… a key."

"A key?" Edward echoed. "How can a place be a key?"

The shadow did not move. For a moment, the only sound was Edward's uneven breathing.

Then the voice came again, quieter now. "To the other realm… have you not read the prophecy?"

"What prophecy?" Edward asked.

Silence.

The figure's head lowered slightly. "To choose this fool for such a task…" it murmured. "Fate truly is cruel."

Edward took a step back. "What are you talking about?"

The shadow straightened suddenly, as if alerted by something unseen. The chamber trembled faintly. "You must find the other two keys," it said quickly. "It is the only way to stop it."

"Stop what?" Edward shouted, but the figure was already fading, its form scattering into drifting black smoke.

"There's… no time," the voice whispered, breaking apart. "Two more… keys…"

The last word faded into the silence.

Edward stood alone, the echo of the voice still ringing in his head. His heart hammered, his palms slick with sweat. Slowly, he turned back toward Elarien.

She was moving again.

Her eyes blinked once, confusion flashing across her face as if no time had passed. "What's on your arm?" she asked.

He looked down.

Black markings had appeared across his forearm—lines of ink that spiraled and curved, glowing faintly. They resembled the pact sigils he'd seen before, but this was different. The symbols looked alive, pulsing softly beneath his skin.

He didn't answer right away. His mind was still racing, pieces of the shadow's words swirling in his thoughts.

Three keys.

Elarien stepped closer, her eyes narrowing. "Edward. What happened?"

He opened his mouth, then stopped. "You didn't… see anything?"

"I remember you touching the altar," she said slowly. "Then nothing. It felt as if time stopped for a breath."

Edward exhaled shakily. "Something spoke to me. Something… old."

Elarien's hand went to her weapon. "A spirit?"

"Maybe. It called this place a tomb and a key. Said there are two more."

Her brow furrowed. "Two more what?"

He raised his arm, showing the mark. "I think whatever it was… left this."

Elarien studied the dark lines, her expression unreadable. "I've never seen anything like this."

"It said I have to find the other two keys," he murmured. "That it's the only way to stop something."

"Did it say what?"

He shook his head. "No. Just that time was running out."

Elarien's gaze drifted toward the altar. The carvings on it had changed. Three circles were now etched across its surface, one faintly glowing blue, the others dull and dark.

"Three," she whispered. "Three keys."

Edward followed her stare, the weight of the chamber pressing down on him. The silence felt alive now, as if the mountain itself was listening.

"What do you think happens if all three are found?" he asked quietly.

Elarien's eyes lingered on the altar before meeting his.

"Who knows..." she finally murmured.