Detective in Another World: Solving Crimes with Necromancer System

Realising they had squeezed everything they could from the strange chamber, Edward and Elarien turned back the way they came. The cold greeted them instantly—sharp, unfriendly, and eager to cling to their skin as they stepped into the twisting tunnels once more.

They walked. And walked. And kept walking.

After a while, the passage stopped feeling like stone and began to feel like a loop designed to mock them. The wind hissed through unseen cracks, icy enough that Edward's fingers felt stiff even when he curled them into fists. Every turn looked the same. Every shadow made him tense, waiting for something—anything—to leap out and end their misery.

But nothing came. Just endless darkness and that constant, biting cold.

Eventually, after what felt like hours or maybe days—time had lost all meaning in this place—they rounded a corner that looked barely different from any other. But the moment they stepped through it, Edward's body went rigid.

They were back. In the exact same chamber they had fallen into at the start.

"What? No. No way." His voice cracked, breaking on disbelief. He took a few steps forward, half expecting the floor to shift into something new if he stared at it long enough. It didn't.

Elarien didn't even try to deny the obvious. She lowered her head, her hair sliding over her shoulder, then exhaled and sank down onto the frozen ground.

"We've been walking in circles," she whispered. No emotion, no frustration—just a dull acceptance. The kind that came when exhaustion won.

Edward spun slowly, looking at every path with a growing sense of helplessness. Two tunnels. Only two. One led to the altar room. The other was the nightmare loop they had just spent eternity inside. He dragged a hand through his hair, wishing the strands would somehow rearrange the map inside his head. Instead, they just fell back into place uselessly.

"We should rest," Elarien said suddenly. "If something finds us now, we won't even have the energy to run. Let alone fight."

She reached into her small travel bag and pulled out a folded square of cloth. It wasn't thick—more a blanket in theory than in function—but she spread it across the icy stone anyway.

Edward hesitated. Resting felt like giving up, and giving up felt wrong when they weren't even injured—just exhausted and frozen. But they had no plan, no direction, and no strength left. With a defeated sigh, he dropped down beside her.

Silence settled around them, thin but heavy. The only sounds came from the wind whistling faintly through the cracks, like the tunnels themselves were breathing.

After a moment, Elarien shifted slightly, inching close until her shoulder brushed his arm.

"Sorry," she murmured quickly. "I'm cold."

"Yeah… me too," he muttered, not moving away.

She leaned just a bit closer, enough that their shared warmth—slight as it was—softened the icy ache inside his bones.

They stayed like that for a long time. Listening to the slow drip of water somewhere in the distance. Watching their breath fog in the dim air. Waiting for their thoughts to slow and their bodies to loosen.

Gradually, sleep crept over them.

When Edward finally opened his eyes again, he felt like someone had used him as a hammer on the stone floor. His neck throbbed. His back hurt. His legs were stiff enough to creak. He sat up with a groan, only then noticing the warmth still pressed lightly against his side.

Elarien was asleep, breathing softly. Her hair had fallen across his shoulder during the night.

He blinked up at the ceiling. Thin beams of pale light seeped in from small cracks above, bright enough to reveal soft flakes drifting down. Snow. The wind had grown stronger—the flakes fluttered like tiny white ashes settling over the chamber.

When he stretched his arms, Elarien stirred.

"Morning…" she said, rubbing one eye as she pushed her hair aside.

They didn't linger. Their bodies protested, but they moved anyway, packing their few belongings and stepping back into the tunnels. This time, they walked more slowly, eyes scanning every wall, every shadow, every odd angle. If the labyrinth wanted to trick them again, they weren't going to give it the satisfaction.

It was Edward who spotted the change.

Behind a crooked rock formation, half concealed in shadow, a narrow crevice split the wall. So thin it almost didn't count as a passage at all. Almost.

"Elarien," he called quietly, pointing.

She didn't hesitate. She slipped sideways and squeezed through first. A moment later her voice echoed from the other side.

"It's safe. Come."

Edward sucked in a breath and pushed himself in. The stone scraped at his arms and shoulders, but he forced himself through until he finally stumbled out beside her.

They stood at the top of a steep, narrow pathway descending deeper into the earth. Just looking at it gave Edward a sinking feeling.

"I don't think going deeper is a good idea," he said, his voice bouncing down the passage.

"This is the only path we haven't tried," Elarien replied. "And who knows? It might lead somewhere."

He couldn't argue. They began their descent, careful with each step as the ground shifted beneath them. The tunnel widened slowly, and a faint draft drifted up from below, carrying a strange mix of earth and something sharp and metallic.

Eventually, the passage ended—not on a floor, but in empty space. They reached the lip of a cliff that dropped into darkness. Edward stepped forward cautiously, squinting to see what lay beneath.

Before he could look over the edge, voices rose from the depths below.

He froze. Elarien froze. They exchanged a glance, then crawled forward carefully and peered down.

Below them ran a wider tunnel—smoother, cleaner, and clearly carved with intention. Walking through it were several short figures carrying lanterns and heavy packs.

"Dwarves," Elarien whispered, her voice taut. The moment she spoke the word, something changed in her face. Surprise twisted instantly into something colder. Bitterness. Maybe even anger.

Edward blinked hard. "Dwarves? In elven territory? Why would there be dwarven tunnels under the kingdom?"

Elarien didn't answer. Her jaw was clenched too tightly for that.

Below, the dwarves kept walking.

"How long till we reach Valendell?" one asked.

"A few days at most. We're ahead of schedule," another replied.

Valendell.

Edward's breath hitched.

"They're trying to reach the elven capital?" he whispered, shocked.

He turned toward Elarien, expecting confusion, fear—something.

Instead, the girl had already moved.

She shot forward in a burst of motion.

Elarien didn't hesitate. She didn't speak. She didn't even look back.

She dashed into action.