After minutes of intense focus, Riflis froze, his hands glowing faintly over Gareth’s chest.

A spark of energy pulsed through the room, and his eyes widened. Without looking away from his work, he called out,

“Revol, come here. I think I’ve found something.”

Revol stepped forward quickly, his expression sharp.

“What is it?”

Riflis gestured toward the faint traces of magical residue emanating from Gareth’s body.

“The fragment of the spell’s energy I extracted—it’s more distinct than I anticipated. The caster didn’t fully sever their connection before Gareth’s death. That means they’re either careless, or more likely, they’re still close by. I’d wager they’re on the ship—most likely one of the VIPs.”

Revol’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening.

“You’re sure?”

Riflis nodded.

“Almost certain. The residual energy matches patterns I’ve seen in possession and control spells. Such magic is delicate and requires proximity for sustained effectiveness. A VIP would have the resources and power to execute something like this.”

Revol paced the room,

“If they’re still on the ship, we need a way to confirm who it is. Can you pinpoint their exact location?”

Riflis frowned, stroking his beard.

“Not precisely, but I can narrow it down. Give me a moment.”

He turned to his workstation, gathering materials: a clear crystal orb, powdered silver, and a vial containing the extracted magical residue.

He placed the orb on a stand and began pouring the residue into it, muttering incantations.

As the orb absorbed the energy, its surface darkened, swirling with a smoky black hue.

Finally, Riflis stepped back, holding the now-completed device. It was a small, handheld sphere, its surface gleaming with an eerie iridescence.

“This,” he said, holding it up, “is our tool. The black sphere inside will react to the caster’s magical signature. When you get close enough to them, it will turn red.”

Revol took the sphere, turning it over in his hands. The object felt cold, and faint vibrations emanated from it, as if it were alive. “How close do I need to be?”

Riflis shrugged.

“Within ten to fifteen meters would give a clear result. give or take. It’s not a perfect solution, but it’s the best I can do on short notice.”

Revol nodded, slipping the sphere into his pocket.

“This will do. With the ship’s layout, narrowing it down shouldn’t take long.”

Riflis stepped closer, lowering his voice.

“Be careful, Revol. If the caster realizes what you’re doing, they might act preemptively. They’ve already proven they’re willing to kill to protect their secrets.”

Revol gave a curt nod,

“I’m counting on it. If they try anything, it’ll be their last mistake.”

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Revol turned to the guardians stationed outside.

“Double the patrols around the VIP quarters. No one leaves without my permission. We’re about to uncover who’s behind this.”

The guardians saluted and moved swiftly to execute his orders.

The hunt was on.

-

Sylas and his people finalized their plans.

Maps were spread across the large wooden table, marked with strategy points and targets.

The air buzzed with energy, but Sylas himself remained calm, his mind turning over possibilities to deal with Heidrick’s inevitable interference.

Just as he was about to speak, a knock echoed through the chamber.

One of the servant mages entered, bowing slightly.

“Lord Sylas, Revol is here. He requests an audience with you.”

Sylas raised an eyebrow, exchanging a glance with Machivel and Suntuzel.

“Revol?” he muttered, his tone thoughtful. “Interesting timing.”

After a moment’s pause, Sylas nodded. “

Let him in.”

The servant mage bowed again and retreated.

Moments later, Revol entered, he wasflanked by five armed Blue Hope Guardians.

Sylas rose from his chair, his hands clasped behind his back. “Revol,” he said, his tone polite but guarded.

“To what do I owe the honor of this visit?”

Revol didn’t sit or waste time with pleasantries.

Instead, he held up the black sphere Riflis had given him, the faint glow of its dark surface catching the light.

“We have a problem, Lord Sylas,”

“And I’m here to ensure it doesn’t escalate further.”

Sylas tilted his head, feigning ignorance.

“A problem? I wasn’t aware of any such thing. Enlighten me.”

Revol stepped closer, his guardians standing firm near the entrance.

He placed the sphere on the table between them.

“This device detects traces of sacrificial magic. A murder occurred on this ship—one involving soul manipulation and possession. The trail led me to the VIP quarters. I’m investigating every major faction aboard.”

The room fell silent. Machivel’s expression darkened, and Suntuzel shifted uncomfortably.

Sylas, however, remained composed.

He picked up the sphere, inspecting it as though it were a mere trinket.

“A clever tool,” he said. “But what does it have to do with me or my faction?”

Revol’s gaze didn’t waver.

“That’s what I’m here to determine. If you have nothing to hide, this will take only a moment. I ask that you and your people remain still while I use the device.”

Sylas’s smile didn’t reach his eyes.

“You’re accusing me of something, Revol. Let’s not play games. What exactly are you looking for?”

Revol crossed his arms.

“I’m not accusing anyone—yet. But whoever is responsible for this magic is still on this ship. The spellcaster’s signature will cause the sphere to react. If you’re innocent, you have nothing to fear.”

Sylas glanced at his companions.

Suntuzel looked ready to protest, but Sylas raised a hand, silencing him.

“Very well,” Sylas said smoothly, stepping back. “Proceed.”

Revol activated the sphere, its surface glowing faintly as it began to detect magical traces.

e moved it slowly around the room, passing it by each person.

When the sphere hovered near Suntuzel, it flickered faintly but didn’t turn red. Revol’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he said nothing, continuing the sweep.

When the sphere neared Sylas, the color is not changed again.

Revol’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Interesting,” he muttered.

He studied Sylas’s expression carefully before deactivating the sphere.

“It seems like, Sylind House is not the caster of the magic.” he said finally, his tone noncommittal.

Revol stepped back, signaling his guardians to follow him.

“For now, this is merely an investigation,” he said. “But let me be clear—if I find evidence linking you or your faction to this crime, not even your status as a VIP will protect you.”

Sylas inclined his head.

“Understood.”

Revol then turned and left the room, his guardians following close behind.

As soon as the door closed, Machivel spoke. “That was unexpectede....”

Sylas nodded

“In the end, we did nothing in the matter they are talking and this will change our plans for the time being..”

“I think I can imagine the reasons”

Suntuzel thought but did not said out loud.