The Crimson Duke of War: Historian In Another World

Maria offered a simple prayer to the shrine before they continued on their path, her unassuming gold necklace glowing subtly due to the action.

'...She really is the gods' favorite.'

Justinian muttered.

The two of them continued on the stone path they had found, and after an hour, finally arrived at the first settlement in the mountain.

One of three until they arrive at Mithral's center of worship itself.

Frostheim.

A small community established by the few pilgrims and tourists who had chosen to stay in the mountain centuries before, their descendants turning a simple outpost into a full-blown town with its own economy and laws.

But what awaited them was the complete opposite of what you should be greeted with in a small, humble winter town.

Instead... what greeted them was a murder scene.

Townspeople and the local militia surrounded the dead body, but even for a murder, it was absolutely brutal.

You couldn't even identify if the corpse was that of a human, its entire carcass a complete mess as if a combination of hundreds of creatures had mauled it all at once.

And for a small town like this one, a sight like that alone was enough to completely change the vibe of the entire settlement.

Because... with them being so isolated from the outside world, if one of them were to be chosen next, there was likely nothing to save them.

"You've arrived at a bad time, traveler."

A man spoke, the local blacksmith, who was a dark elf, with a striking resemblance to Feryll.

If Justinian had to guess, he could very well be her father, but he couldn't just say it outright; after all, it may just well be a coincidence.

"What caused it...?" Maria asked, hiding behind Justinian's back as she struggled to look at the dead body.

She may be accustomed to death, but to excessive gore and mutilation like that, it was a completely different story.

"We'll handle everything here." The militia ordered a frost elf, blue skin, and white hair with eyes that could easily be mistaken for diamonds. "Nerevin, rally the rest, tell them to be on high alert."

Justinian took a glance at the dead body once more, but even with his knowledge in the novel, he hadn't ever remembered Julius encountering something like this before.

Either that, or he had just forgotten; he didn't have photographic memory after all.

***

The two of them rented a room at the inn, and instead of renting separate ones, Justinian opted for a two-person room, and Maria was absolutely relieved by that decision.

The earlier sight of the corpse made her cheerful and easygoing personality dim slightly.

Justinian took off his winter coat, placing it near the campfire in the room, gesturing for Maria to do the same.

"Let's warm up for a while... I'd prefer we don't stay here for more than one night." He said, looking through the small hole in their room that allowed him to see the current investigation happening just outside.

"What could have done such a thing...?"

Maria wrapped her arms around herself; even just the memory of the body was enough to creep her out.

"Could it be a troll... or a wolf?"

"No, a troll or a wolf, or even together, could create brutality like that..."

"No… this wasn't just savagery," Justinian murmured, his gaze fixed on the distant crowd. "This was… deliberate."

Maria looked at him, uneasy. "Deliberate? How can something that brutal be deliberate?"

"There was no blood pooling," he replied, tone steady. "That body wasn't killed here. It was placed. Displayed, even."

He didn't say it dramatically; he said it like a historian.

Not a warrior.

Not a duke.

But a historian who understood cruelty in the context of message and meaning all throughout the annals of history.

Maria shuddered. The crackling fire suddenly felt smaller, less warm.

"…So this wasn't a normal attack," she whispered.

Justinian shook his head. "Not even close."

There was a knock at the door.

Not frantic.

Not loud.

Measured.

Maria tensed, instinctively reaching for the knife she kept hidden in her boot, a knife that Justinian had handed her just in case she was in trouble and he was nowhere near.

Justinian didn't move. He just said, quietly.

"Enter."

The door opened partway, revealing the same dark elf blacksmith. His arms were folded, soot still clinging faintly to his sleeves despite the cold. His expression was calm… but his eyes were alert.

"You're not ordinary travelers," he said simply. "We've had priests and lords come through this mountain, but none of them as... special as you two."

Justinian didn't deny it.

The blacksmith stepped inside, closing the door.

"I am Lyram," he said. "And whatever did that… it wasn't beast nor blade. It was taken."

Maria frowned. "Taken? What do you mean?"

Lyram hesitated.

Then, quietly.

"There was no soul."

Silence.

Maria's throat felt dry. "…Soulless? Like necromancy?"

"No," Justinian said before Lyram could answer. "Necromancy binds the dead. This was different. This was… harvesting."

Lyram stiffened, surprised, not by the statement, but by how accurately Justinian had phrased it.

Maria looked between them. "Why are you telling us this?"

Lyram's answer was quiet. "You, blonde hair... You seem to be special, and I'm afraid that makes you a target."

She flinched.

"I just wanted to warn you two, we dark elves have a special ability to see through souls."

Justinian didn't look surprised. He only murmured.

"We appreciate the warning."

Lyram gave a small, tired smile. "It's the least I could do..." he paused, his eyes subtly shining; he was using magic.

"Especially to a friend of my daughter."

Lyram left the room, leaving the two of them to handle how they should interpret the dark elf's warning.

'I guess I was correct after all.'

Justinian tilted his head, but quickly shook the thought off as he looked at Maria, her legs crossed and thinking deeply about Lyram's warning.

"Justinian..."

"Yes?"

"I think I want to help..."