Steampunk: Sixth Era Epic

"I thought after the Battle of Sicarl Mountain, there would no longer be any evil spirits attacking me."

[Evil spirits just won't attack you proactively.]

A chilling sensation spread from his ankle throughout his body, and at the same time, a great force came, trying to drag Shard directly into the floor.

He remained unmoved, with the moonlight bursting from his palm like the sun exploding in the bedroom.

After the glow of the Silvermoon faded, all the surfaces in the room seemed to be covered with a faint film of light. Yet, despite this, the evil spirit still rose from beneath the floor, seemingly unaffected.

"This undead is unusual."

The spiritual body looked like a woman with her hair down, but her exact appearance was unclear. The spirit resembled a traditional evil spirit, but the outside seemed to be coated with a layer of black soil. Shard had encountered countless undead at Midshire Fort, even those empowered by the out-of-control state of a Level 0 relic, capable of fighting High Ring Sorcerers. The evil spirit before him was clearly not that powerful, but it was very different from those undead.

One could even say that the soul before him had become fundamentally different from the "undead." Relying on his mysticism knowledge, Shard couldn't determine what it exactly was at the moment, only approximating it to be some form of resentment born from a particular land. Dying naturally, in a normal place, would never produce such a thing.

"Could this be Miss Norma?"

He wondered, drawing the Moonlight Greatsword from the air. Just as he was about to thrust forward with the sword, the evil spirit, as if sensing the danger, abruptly vanished with a muffled sound.

"What exactly is this thing?"

After repeatedly confirming everything had returned to normal, Shard turned his gaze back to the secret compartment on the wall behind the original picture frame. Although it was locked, it couldn't stop Shard. The space inside was small, holding a small silver dagger sheathed in its scabbard and an enamel bowl, both bearing fresh and old bloodstains.

"...Echo of the Past."

Knowing the truth of time expanded the applicability of this arcane technique to the past three days. Shard put down the silver dagger, frowning as he walked around the room, listening to the sounds in his ears.

The first sound was a knocking on the door, seemingly a neighbor downstairs bringing a letter and slipping it into the room.

The second sound was the noise from the street downstairs. If Shard wasn't mistaken, it was two women cursing each other for stealing their husbands.

The third sound was finally from inside this house. Considering that nobody had dealt with the letters from three days ago, this should be the last sound before Miss Norma left her home—

"The time has come, let's go."

This was the voice of a strange man.

"Alright, I will embrace that moment, may the Earth be with me."

This was likely Miss Norma's voice, her tone immensely cheerful.

"Looks like this investigation really has encountered a troublesome issue."

Shard muttered, then searched the writing desk in the bedroom while trying not to disturb other people's personal belongings. There were many letters here, and from the reading order and markings, it appeared Miss Norma was frequently communicating with at least five different gentlemen, including the Mr. Martin Shard was looking for.

"Quite skilled."

He murmured softly, then realized with a chuckle that he might be even more over-the-top than Miss Norma.

It was just unfortunate that Miss Norma did not have the "good habit" of keeping a diary. Besides those letters, there were no other personal documents or materials.

However, upon opening the wardrobe, Shard found a notebook seemingly accidentally left behind beneath the boldly patterned clothes. It listed times and places, and seeing "Good Gentleman Club," Shard realized it recorded Miss Norma's work schedule and appointments with acquaintances.

Unfortunately, the records only lasted up to three days ago, and then there were no new entries. On the flyleaf of the notebook, a similar phrase was written—

[I shall eventually become one with the Earth.]

"Mia, have a sniff, and see if you can find any other clues."

He patted the drowsy cat, hoping it could be of some help. But no matter how smart the cat was, it couldn't assist Shard in this moment.

Based on the clues at hand, the issues surrounding the also-missing Miss Norma were quite significant. Although she didn't keep a diary, Shard had the addresses of the gentlemen frequently contacting her—clearly written on the envelopes, as well as a list of her regular "workplaces" and timeframes.

He didn't take these materials, instead choosing to memorize everything, planning to head to the Good Gentleman Club to inquire for more detailed information.

At this time, it was only half-past ten in the morning. The winter heating made the city's air even worse, and the visibility in the city shrouded in gray fog was extremely poor. When Shard walked across the block and returned to the front of the club, he encountered someone rather unexpected.

Just then the carriage happened to pass by him and stopped at the entrance of the club. The gentleman disembarking with the help of a cane turned his head to glance back, coincidentally meeting Shard's gaze:

"Oh, Mr. Hamilton!"

"Oh, it's Baron Lavende!"

The gentleman dressed in a formal black outfit was none other than Shard's friend, Baron Lavende. Shard knew that Baron Lavende was involved in the antiques and perfume business, so his appearance at the club was probably not just to have fun like Mr. Martin.

During the Year-End Festival, Shard had sent a holiday card to Baron Lavende, and the baron had sent Shard a small bottle of perfume as a festival gift. This unexpected meeting here pleased them both, and the baron even wanted to invite Shard for a drink in the club, but Shard declined:

"I'm looking for a missing boy, Herbert Martin. Baron, do you know him?"

Shard briefly informed the baron of his investigation target, but after thinking for a while, the baron couldn't recall this person. He also suggested that Shard investigate Miss Norma, but Shard regretfully stated that Miss Norma was also missing:

"Half an hour ago, I knocked on her door for quite some time, but no one answered. Inquiring with the neighbors, they said Miss Norma hasn't returned for several days."

Shard shrugged:

"However, I've tracked down several gentlemen acquainted with Miss Norma. Baron Lavende, do you happen to know any of them?"

Shard listed the names of the gentlemen he had seen at Miss Norma's place, and Baron Lavende did recognize one of them:

"Little Franco is my friend; we even had drinks together at the club before the Year-End Festival. However, I heard recently that he fell seriously ill, and I was planning to visit him tomorrow."

Baron Lavende was quite willing to help Shard, but he still had business to discuss at the club today. However, Shard was very interested in the seriously ill Mr. Franco, and since he lived in the southern district of Tobesk, he decided to visit the gentleman.

The baron wrote Shard a note, proving that Shard was his friend, to facilitate his visit.

The Franco family wasn't nobles, but they operated two large canning factories locally, belonging to the new wave of wealthy merchants. Mr. Little Franco was the only son of the 51-year-old Mr. Old Franco and was destined to inherit the family business.

When Shard saw Mr. Little Franco in the bedroom on the second floor of the Franco house, the man bedridden with illness already appeared to be on the verge of death.

He was as thin as skin and bones, his complexion sallow, and he didn't even have the strength to sit up on his own. When the worried Mr. Old Franco, along with the servants, brought Shard into the bedroom, the way Mr. Little Franco turned his gaze towards Shard inexplicably reminded Shard of Detective Sparrow before his death.

"How did it become so severe?"

Out of concern for disturbing the patient, Shard only glanced at him by the bedside before he and Mr. Old Franco retreated to the hallway.

The worried old man clutched his hat with both hands and sighed softly:

"Everything was fine earlier last week. Two days ago, he suddenly had a nightmare and then became like this. I found the best doctor in town, but even the doctor couldn't figure out what was wrong..."

In this era, it was quite common for people to die suddenly from a serious illness.

"Nightmare?"

Shard raised an eyebrow:

"Do you know the specific content of the dream?"

The old man nodded:

"He told me he dreamt of a woman crawling out of the ground, grabbing his foot, trying to drag him underground... In fact, since that night, he's been having this dream repeatedly. But I can't connect this nightmare to his illness. I've already hired a town psychologist, hoping that helps."

The voice was very low. The condition of his only son was a massive blow to the elderly man before him.

With Mr. Old Franco's consent, Shard searched the bedroom of Mr. Little Franco, who was too weak to speak coherently. If his guess was correct, there had to be some special item causing Mr. Little Franco to have nightmares continuously and become like this.

Shard was very good at searching, and identifying objects with elemental traces among ordinary items was his forte. And as he suspected, there was indeed something peculiar carrying elemental traces.

It was a potted plant on the windowsill. The small flower planted in the soil wasn't important; the residual elemental traces were in the soil itself. The black soil felt abnormally cold to the touch, seemingly possessing the ability to attract one's gaze. The more one looked, the stronger the illusion that a soul was being swallowed by the soil.

This soil felt exactly the same as the undead that attacked Shard.