As Lord of Penumbria, Adam could have commanded an army, sent people flying through a wall, and ruled over reality itself inside his domain. Yet never had his finger felt as powerful as it did now – when he pointed it directly at the culprit.

You want trust? he thought. That's well and good. People want lots of things. Doesn't mean they get them. Valeria's sword ached as the words touched Adam's throat, and burned when they reached his lips.

"Captain Baltsar, it was you!"

The captain froze as he felt the accusation land on him. His offended gaze shifted up and down, repeatedly alternating between Adam's fingers eyes, as if hoping that would result in reality somehow changing. Everything about his expression appeared to exclaim, 'Why, how dare you—' yet not a word of protest left his lips.

Adam pressed on, denying Baltsar the chance to regroup. "Here's what happened," he began, in earnest. "Let's begin with why the Ghost of Waters chose this time to attack. Does it not strike you as odd that the Ghost would strike when a Lord was aboard – when according to past testimony, it didn't attack on every trip?"

"I suppose that would look strange to you, wouldn't it?" Valeria said with a smirk. "But your confidence tells me you've already figured out why."

Adam nodded. "Yes. When I spoke with the Ghost of Waters, I prodded him on this very subject. It led to an interesting exchange."

"Ah, for two reasons," the Ghost had said. "First, the detective woman. She wouldn't allow me to lay quiet if I tried. And second..." It laughed with a vicious, cruel sound, bereft of humanity. "Why, I simply couldn't control myself this time."

"His first point was true enough," Adam explained. "He figured, rightfully, that Valeria was sent here to slay a monster preying on new would-be Puppets traveling to the Mines. As for the second point – it initially just seemed like taunting, or appearing evil for the sake of it. You know the type."

Adam paused. "But something Valeria said later changed my mind."

"Me?" Valeria asked, feigning surprise. "Whatever could you mean, my lord?"

It was hard not to grin back at the detective. "When I asked you why Puppets were created by the Dragons, you had a very illuminating response."

'Dragon Puppets were made to counter the invasion of Rot. We are resistant to it – though not immune – and can detect the Rot in most. Attract them, too.'

"I will draw your attention to those last few words. 'We attract them, too.'" Adam let the statement hang heavy in the air. Most people in the room already knew what he was getting at, but proving his own understanding was key to establishing power, in more ways than one. "The Ghost of Waters said he could not control himself this time...and Puppets attract them."

He shrugged, as if the point was inconsequential. "Hey, I don't claim to be all-knowing. For all we know, the Ghost of Waters is a creature forged and driven by pure malice, incapable of controlling its desire to feed on the innocent.. But if you ask me...I think he couldn't control himself because there were too many Puppets aboard."

Tenver harrumphed loudly, rubbing his chin in a parody of deep thought. "Hmm, but Adam...that's not enough for a decisive conclusion, is it?"

Adam raised an eyebrow. "You really don't have to do this anymore."

"But it's so fun," he protested. "And besides, don't you think you're extrapolating a bit too much from just that?"

"Fine." Adam sighed. "If you look at the pattern, it's the only thing that makes sense. Remember that the monster only attacked whenever both Ferrero and Serena happened to be present. Why would he expose himself to the Puppets so often if it wasn't needed? He wouldn't. Therefore, something forced his hand."

Solara let out a loud hum of understanding. "Ah. This would explain – aside from the obvious – why Puppets aren't generally well-liked. If they attract Stained Monsters and the Rot...you'd associate your neighborly Puppets with bad luck too, wouldn't you?"

It wasn't a statement that would likely endear Solara to the Puppets in attendance, but no one immediately raised an objection. Adam had thought of the same as well, though he knew better than to say it aloud.

"Elf," Valeria said, with a short laugh. "You should know better than to think people need a reason to hate. Elves cause no such things, and were still massacred." She flicked her wrist with indifference. "However, Lord Adam's conjecture is true. I arrived at much the same conclusion."

At that, the detective gestured at her sword that Adam still carried. It glistened in bloody red. Then, with a smirk, she added, "And my sword agrees."

"That's – that's absurd!" Captain Baltsar voiced his discontent for the first time since Adam's accusation. He trembled, yet his face was red with fury. "The door, the cursed key, all of it – my lord, why would I bother arranging all of that if I wanted these deaths to keep happening? I don't wish for any death to come to my ship! No more!"

There was anguish in his voice, and it sounded true. "Not ever again! No one...no one should lose their lives like that. Do you really think someone who lived through the Arrow Eclipse would willingly bring more pain onto the world? "

His voice nearly cracked at the end, and it was this audible weakness that silenced the room.

Once again, Tenver was the one to eventually break the stillness. "For what it's worth, Adam," he said, softly. "I believe Captain Baltsar's words. He went through much with my Father and I. Someone who survived what he did – even if they were a monster – would balk at bringing about serial murders in cold blood."

"I believe that," Adam replied, just as softly. "I told you, Captain, what I thought of your intentions. Do you remember?"

"For what it's worth...I believe you don't want any more deaths to happen," Adam had said.

"I...yes, my lord. Thank you! Oh, thank you! I—"

Adam held out a hand to interrupt him. "I'm sorry," he said, in a sincerely apologetic tone. "I do believe that. Even now." He paused. "But you're still the culprit."

"Why – how?" Baltsar cried out. "How could you say that? How could I be—"

"If I eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth." Adam was happy to let the words become his own. Old literary words from Earth didn't exist here, and a borrowed blade cuts just as sharply as one you forge yourself. "No one else could be responsible. Think about it. The culprit must have gone down to the lower deck, without arousing any suspicion, fetched one of the people from there, and brought them to the monster. Alternatively, they must have opened the door and allowed the monster to walk through."

Baltsar took a step back, sweat covering his face. "My, my lord, you said that the monster can hide easily, in water I believe? Could it not have snuck through the door after someone else opened it?"

"First of all, captain, only you have opened that door before. Moreover, everyone else has an alibi. The Puppets cannot hold the key, Solara was with me–"

"I hate to bring up the point," Baltsar interrupted, "but His Imperial Highness..."

Adam sighed. He'd wanted to avoid this. "Tenver was in his room," he stated, calmly. "I saw him myself. As he said; I'm his witness."

PERJURY!

The word practically shouted itself in his mind. This claim was a lie through and through, and he was going to use it to sentence a man to a fate worse than death. Yet he was also certain of his conclusion – for other reasons – and if he was somehow wrong, Baltsar would go unpunished, regardless.

An uncomfortable silence fell about the room. Given the earlier tension, and especially given the flashy duel of logic, none present could bring themselves to fully believe Adam. The notion that he'd just been playing around with Tenver, having known all along that the knight was innocent, was a hard pill to swallow. In spite of that, none of them could openly challenge a Lord's authority. Worst of all, they knew Adam was dooming himself to a most painful death if he misled them about the culprit's identity.

Fortunately, he noted that Valeria elected not to repeat his claim with her Bloody Truth. She knows. He glanced over his shoulder to see the detective calmly watching him, sporting a slightly raised eyebrow and a grin on her face. And she's gonna let me cook.

"You do trust me," Tenver said, his voice so overly emotional that no one could mistake it for genuine. "I knew you'd never think of me as a cretin that would murder his friends."

"It has nothing to do with trust," Adam dryly said, and meant it too. The evidence just didn't add up towards Tenver being the culprit. For one, he wasn't present during the previous murders. For another, he couldn't have held the–

His thoughts were cut short by Baltsar making an objection. "My lord," the captain began, "if you think I never wanted these deaths to happen, then why...why would I be the culprit?"

"That's the realm of speculation," Adam admitted. "And I'd be willing to hear your story." He paused and drew a deep breath. "I can venture a guess, though. Nothing more, mind you – just a guess."

The captain blinked at him expectantly, but stayed quiet.

You're going to make me say it, eh? "I think that if you know the monster is aboard, and that it wishes to kill people...you'd try to stop it. To keep deaths at a minimum. But your own words also speak for your reasoning to aid the monster. Have you forgotten them?"

Adam saw the captain pale at the reminder, but didn't give him time to prepare himself. He went on, quoting the man verbatim.

"Sometimes, one of them must die, and this heart of mine breaks a little more. But if not those dangerous travels of ours, they would die in the Empire regardless! What is a single man to do?"

"You hate that someone has to die, but you keep bringing people to the Mines. You view the occasional murder is detestable, yet still better than the alternative. And as you mentioned earlier, you cannot rely on either mercenaries or the Emperor to aid with the problem. That's why you helped the Stained Monster – to avert an even worse tragedy."

No one spoke for a very long time.

Slowly, Baltsar looked down and began to sob. "I...you're right, my lord." He sobbed once more. "I confess. It was me. It's as you say. I...I couldn't let those poor men and women suffer in the Empire. Even if not everyone could make it, surely it's better for just one person to die every once in a while, than to sentence all of them to death?"

"Be that as it may," Solara said, her voice uneasy. "To sentence the innocent to death–"

"I tried not to look for the innocent!" Baltsar cried out. "Whenever I could, I'd look for a runaway criminal attempting to escape the Emperor's justice by traveling the Mines. Then I'd offer him shelter, and deliver him to his deserved end."

It was a bitter – if understandable – story to swallow. The Captain, whenever possible, had endeavored to prevent the creation of more innocent victims. He wanted to protect people from the Empire whenever possible, even going as far as to curse the door and key to keep the monster from feeding on people unless it was absolutely necessary. It was a tragic tale of a man who wanted the best for the world, but could only do so much. Guilty as he might have been, it nevertheless inspired a measure of pity, if not respect.

Only...

"Only," Valeria started as she stepped forward, arms crossed, but her hand still gripping at her sword, the edge dancing dangerously alongside her torso. "That's not the whole truth, is it?"

She glared at Adam. "My lord, need I remind you that I am testing you to see if your competency is worthy of my fair Grandmaster?"

He grit his teeth. "I...only have conjecture. No evidence."

"I will not repeat it in blood. There won't be any issues if you are wrong." She smiled. "Go on, my lord. Guess."

He took a moment to gather his thoughts. Adam had been mostly honest when he said that he didn't have any decisive evidence. Just speculation. Still, Baltsar's reactions would make more sense if that speculation was correct – and there were a few facts that would make no sense unless there was more to the captain's motives.

"There's an issue with your confession," Adam admitted to Baltsar, with reluctance. "Specifically, the reasoning behind it. If you've been doing all this out of a sense of altruism, then there's frankly no reason for a Stained monster to cooperate with you. While this method lets it feed on people and evade attention from the Empire, I find it hard to believe that a monster of that power couldn't do better elsewhere. As just one example, it would have much more freedom attacking travelers between Penumbria and Gama. It's possible that the monster valued secrecy over freedom, but that assumption would simply raise further questions."

Ferrero crossed his arms, falling into contemplation. "You mean...why would Baltsar bother going to the Mines in the first place?"

Adam nodded hesitantly. "Yeah. We established that the monster only attacked when Puppets were aboard, right? It also seems unable to harm Baltsar. If he'd just avoided the Mines, took his business elsewhere, he could've kept the monster under control. After long enough, it would've started to lose its powers from not feeding. Then it would have died – or gotten weak enough that any mercenary could've taken care of it – and Baltsar could have resumed ferrying would-be Puppets to the Mines without fear. In other words, if his goal was to merely keep the monster from attacking people...he didn't have to let anyone die at all."

That had been bothering Adam for a while now. Not because it mystified him, though. He could think of several alternatives that explained away the inconsistency.

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The problem was that each explanation was crueler than the last.

"That's a good point," Solara remarked. "Why didn't the Ghost kill Captain Baltsar if he was supposedly trying to limit its freedom?" She laughed bitterly. "Ghosts like that don't have any qualms about killing people. Trust me."

"I...have a guess." Adam drew a deep breath. "When I spoke to the Ghost of Waters, he mentioned something about what makes him different from the Ghost of Flames."

"My brother suffered much, for he did not sustain himself frequently enough. But me? My lord, you've heard the numbers. How many people do you think have become a part of me?"

The gentleman stretched out its hand.

Then, slowly, it shifted into another hand – that of a young woman. Followed by an old man. Then a soldier's hardened hand, missing two fingers. And finally, back to its original shape.

"I am many souls, and I am none of them. Do you think, my lord, that you would be able to paint this?"

"The Ghost of Waters isn't possessing anyone, Solara. Unlike the one that was possessing you, it's fed on enough people that it doesn't need to." Adam tried not to let his voice shake. He needed to maintain his composure for this. "Which...leads me to one bit of pure speculation."

Valeria clapped her hands together. "Speculate away, my lord! If it helps – I have more evidence pointing us toward the solution, so fear not your own imagination."

It made sense that the detective who'd intended to single-handedly slay this mystery had come prepared. Even so, that didn't make things any easier. "So be it," Adam said, resigned to what was about to transpire. "Speaking plainly; Captain Baltsar should be dead. While convenience might make a monster more amenable to keeping quiet and killing as few people as possible, that's not enough to placate it entirely. But what if it had a ghost of a conscience in there? Something that made the idea of killing Baltsar unappealing?"

The smirk was gone from Tenver's face. He started to address Adam, then shook his head and stalked towards Baltsar. "Captain," he gravely said, hand on his sword hilt. "Please tell me...you didn't..."

"And why not?" Baltsar cried out. "Can you say you wouldn't have done the same? Can you truly say it's any different from what your own father did?"

"What the hell are you getting at?" Solara shouted, with growing irritation.

"There's one last thing Captain Baltsar told me," Adam muttered. "I don't have any proof to link it to the murders. However..."

"I tell you this, my lord, so you know that I put no airs when saying this: I wish not for a single death to occur. No family should ever bear to lose their child. My son..." Baltsar hesitated, his voice catching in his throat. "He is no longer with us."

"What if your son is among those who were fed to the Ghost of Waters?" Adam said. "If he's one of those souls, maybe his influence is enough to keep the Ghost from harming you."

Captain Baltsar was pale and silent. "No—no, I could never—"

"Everything makes sense if we assume you were doing this for your son's sake. Maybe you didn't even know that he was only one among the many souls the Ghost had consumed. After all...they have to keep feeding on people to stay alive, don't they? Or else they lose their sense of self."

Adam thought back to the Ghost of Flames. It had sounded more human every time it drank his blood – or his Ink, rather. Conversely, it had lost its sense of self whenever it was wounded and bled Ink. He reasoned the two Ghosts were similar enough.

"You weren't just doing this out of a sense of duty," Adam pressed. "And you weren't doing this just to save as many people as you could. Oh, you may have disliked the murders, but more than anything else? It was all so you could save your son."

"And what if that's the case?!" Baltsar bellowed. "In the end, you're no different from the Emperor, eh? You want to judge me for my crimes?! Then do it! Whatever my reasoning was, it doesn't change a damn thing! What difference does it make if my motives are less noble than I claimed?!"

"Only this." Adam stretched out his arm to hand the sword back to Valeria, letting it go once he felt her gloved hand take the blade from his grip. Then, in the same motion, he reached inside his backpack and pulled out his tablet. "My hands hold a canvas better than a sword," he said, softly. "The details matter quite a bit for someone like me."

He pulled up the untitled drawing he'd prepared before.

A white void of a background, this drawing was filled only by an amalgamation of shapeless lines, shaped to give form to the formless, depicting the Ghost of Waters' true appearance with a semblance of reality. From the leftmost side of the page, a stylized, humanoid figure was dragging other figures toward the mouth of the creature.

"You aren't necessarily evil," Adam began, taking out his pen and starting some finishing touches. "At least in the sense that you don't do this for pleasure. Nonetheless, you selfishly murdered dozens for the sake of your goals. Based on your self-deprecating descriptions of your time before joining the Empire...I think you started out as a loyal, albeit rough-around-the-edges sailor. Something about you must have inspired loyalty, because the then-Emperor appeared to like you..."

As Adam trailed off, he looked to Tenver, who was watching it all with a pained expression. "And...Tenver appears to genuinely like you, too. You must've been a good man."

Although Adam could not bring himself to say that Baltsar was a good man now. The victim this time had been a child, for heaven's sake. "Unfortunately, you lost your son at some unspecified time – if I dare guess, the 'Arrow Eclipse' alluded to earlier. I won't profess to know the exact details of what transpired, but at that point, your son was devoured by the Ghost of Waters and became part of it. The Emperor died shortly thereafter, and you were forced to turn to piracy. By then you'd lost your position, your sovereign, and your dreams. Your son was all that was left."

Adam painted the man's footprints in red as he carried bodies to the sketched-out monstrosity's open, hungry mouth. "You would do anything to keep him. And whether out of love, fear, or simple opportunism, the monster agreed. Your ship was uniquely suited to providing it shelter. Sometimes visiting the Mines, sometimes high up in the sky, and always above the Empire's law. No one would question if someone went missing, and you didn't have to worry about your 'son' being caught by a Hangman."

"Please...stop," the captain begged. "I have never asked the nobility for anything before. This is the first and last favor I will ever plead." Baltsar dropped to his knees. "Please," he begged again, "have mercy..."

I can't allow mercy here. Adam clenched his fist around his pen. "You aren't a monster," he said. "You felt guilty – unbearably so, about the deaths you caused. You knew firsthand the pain of losing the people you loved so dearly. That's why you installed the cursed door, the cursed key...to truly keep the number of deaths to an absolute minimum."

Adam was unable to stop himself from letting out a deep, loud sigh of agony and frustration. "If only you were just a selfish monster who didn't care what he was doing...this would be much easier. But you hated those deaths. You hated them so, so much. I'm sure they haunt your sleep every night. Only..."

"—Mercy, my lord!"

"Only...you still accepted every death," Adam muttered. "Regardless of whether they haunted you or not. Just so that you could cling to the idea that your son was still alive."

"—Have mercy..." Baltsar stopped, then looked up, his eyes welling up with tears. "Have mercy...on my son, my lord."

Adam titled the painting.

Baltsar Feasts With His Son

It was a familiar sight now. Adam observed the thin blue line of light form around Baltsar, watching as the captain was briefly lifted up into the air, panic overcoming his features. The culprit looked around the room, a sort of apologetic fright in his expression, nodding slowly at each person he saw.

Jolts of electricity had already begun to shoot out of Baltsar when he stopped at Tenver. "Your Imperial Highness," he said weakly, his voice muffled by the sound of his soul leaving his body. "I cannot apologize enough for using the ship your father gave me for this."

"You don't have to." Tenver's voice was gentle "Go with the grace of the gods. Farewell."

Thunderbolts continued to fly between the captain and the painter, each stronger than the last. Adam forced himself not to look away as the captain addressed him one last time. "Mayhap if you were lord fifteen years ago," Baltsar said, his voice trembling, "then I could have died a better man. But...who knows. Mayhap trash like me is always beckoned to return to the garbage whence we came from, no matter how we try to pull ourselves out of it."

He smiled weakly. "If that were the case...it would explain why even now, I cannot regret anything."

And then, suddenly, just before the last thunderbolt touched Adam's tablet, Baltsar summoned his Talent and shot his wrist downward as if pulling a lever. Its effects were not immediate, and it did not stop the soul from being taken.

Talent Obtained: Ship Captain

The Talented may navigate a ship toward its destination by only touching the wheel, without any more manual control. They are also aware of this ship's damages, capabilities, and the like. The Talented may also move this ship towards their Captain's Badge.

There was no prolonged silence to process what had just happened. As suddenly as the painting, more sudden than Baltsar's last action, the airship began a harsh descent, turning nearly entirely sideways and shooting downward like a bullet. Adam tried to steady his feet, but that quickly proved to be a hopeless endeavor. He was already sliding down the ship when Solara caught him by the waist, keeping herself in place by stabbing the floor with her knife to slow their descent, and then by grasping onto a door handle.

Others were less lucky. They were sent violently bouncing around, hitting their limbs against each corner of the ship as it spun upside-down, before being thrown to meet its opposite end. Adam couldn't even keep track of who was safe and who wasn't – for all he knew, everyone was dead.

"Hold on to me," Solara growled. "Don't let go even if it kills you!" The elf had found a grip. On what, Adam did not know, but it kept them from being sent flying. All he could do was hold tight, clinging on to what had become his lifeline, and desperately hope that it would all stop soon.

It lasted only a few minutes, yet it felt like an eternity. Eventually the ship seemed to right itself once more, moving as gently and steadily as it ever had.

Slowly, hesitantly, Adam dared to stand up. "Is everyone alive?"

He was so out of sorts that even surveying the room proved to be a challenge. In that dizzy haze, his head pounding, just standing upright was already difficult. Mercifully, a quick count showed that everyone was...if not fine, then at least well enough to complain.

"I'll be feeling that for some time," Ferrero groaned. "Hate when this happens."

"Does it happen often?" Adam inquired.

"Look outside." Ferror gestured at the windows. "We're underwater now. The captain must've set the course just before...whatever you just did. Usually he tells us to brace ourselves first."

Adam took a second to marvel at the windows. They were wide open, yet no water came rushing inside the cabin. He could see creatures that vaguely resembled fish swimming just outside, but while the surface of the water showed some tension, it never broke. Not even a single drop entered the ship itself. If not for the intense humidity that had penetrated into the room, Adam could've mistaken it for an extremely high-definition monitor from Earth.

I remember what they said earlier, he thought. The Mines are accessible only through an underwater cavern...so the ship has to go...fly, then go underwater. No wonder even Hangmen can't enter it easily.

His rumination was cut short as horror instantly seized his mind. "I think," Adam said, dryly, "that we're not done yet."

Everyone turned to look at him, disbelief writ plain on their features. "What do you mean?" Ferrero asked. "You caught the culprit, right?"

"I did. But that's just the issue, isn't it? Someone is being mighty quiet about this."

Someone who was now present while they were surrounded by the most humid of climates – and that had its back to the wall.

It's fine. It was always going to end like this. Solving the crime was just part one. Now it was time for the climax. He glanced over at Valeria, who appeared dizzy, but unharmed enough to stand. So far, everything has gone according to plan. Let's see if we can keep the streak going.

And then, before he could say anything else, he heard a sound.

"Did you have fun with your game?" the Ghost of Waters asked, its voice nowhere and everywhere at once. "I truly hope you enjoyed feeling as though you mattered."

"I must ask," Adam immediately said, in a tone of forced calm. "Why didn't you kill the captain? Is there some part of you who still thinks of him as your father? Or was it mere cowardice at the idea of the Empire finding out about you?"

"That does not concern you."

"Oh, but it does," Adam taunted. "Because if you did think of him as your father...my, my, you must be rather pissed at me for stealing his soul, eh?"

The room grew colder, as though waves were crashing at them from every direction. "No matter. Your canvas will shatter upon death. And that—" Every candle blew out at once. Darkness fell. "—WILL BE NOW!"

The Ghost of Waters, the Gentleman from Adam's dream, came into being at the last flicker of fire – and attacked.