Velrithia Academia, once a beacon of knowledge and order, now stood as a haunting monument to loss and betrayal. Its pristine halls, once filled with the eager footsteps of students and the quiet hum of research, were tainted by distrust and grief. Crimson barrier ribbons stretched across the entrance, a stark warning to all. A sign, cold and impersonal, lay on the floor: NO ENTRY.

Ignoring the warnings, I approached the academia. What was once a vibrant hub of scholars, brimming with the energy of students and professors, now resembled a forsaken ruin. The empty halls whispered of tragedy, their silence oppressive.

“Hey, you! Stop right there!” a voice yelled behind me.

I turned slowly, sighing as yet another obstacle seemed to materialize out of nowhere.

“This is a crime scene, unauthorized personnel aren’t allowed in here! Didn’t you see the sign outside?!” The lady yelled, her hands tucked in her pockets. Her scarlet hair tumbled down her back like a river of flames, fiery and unkempt. Her azure eyes stood in stark contrast to her simple, inexpensive coat and the worn woolen trousers. A pair of clothes selected purely for their practical value, reflecting her lack of care about her appearance or the impression she might leave on others. She was escorted by two of men who seemed to be her assistants. They wore thick winter clothes, sensible in the freezing weather. Unlikeme, who stubbornly wore the same summer-style clothing through almost all seasons.

With a sarcastic tilt of her head, she turned to one of her assistants. “This is why I told you to make the signs bigger. Some people just refuse to read anything smaller than a headline!”

The assistant bowed apologetically, his posture shrinking under her glare as he hesitantly responded, “B-But ma’am, the entrance was sealed off with caution ribbons…”

She stepped forward, her irritation becoming more evident as she continued, her voice rising. “How did you even get past the barrier? You’re not supposed to be here!”

“What makes you think I’m not authorized to be here? Is it the way I’m dressed?” I asked, keeping my tone neutral. However, even I’d question why someone who looks like a beggar from Velrithia’s north sewers would be present in a crime scene.

She raised an eyebrow, taking in my tattered robes.

“Wait… Are you…?” Her demeanor shifted, thinking I was an investigator, but before she could finish, I cut her off.

“No, I’m not.”

Her expression hardened. “This is why I hate men…” The lady muttered under her breath, and then proceeded to yell at me again “Will you tell me your name already, or should I just call you moron?!”

What do “men” have to do anything with all this?

“Nice to meet you, I’m moron. May I know who I’m being interrogated by now?”

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She looked clearly dissatisfied at my heartfelt answer.

“I’m Detective Lisa,” she said, answering with a forced smile that barely masked her anger. I almost felt sorry for her. “Now, will you please state your purpose for being here?”

She seemed as if a volcano was ready to erupt at any moment. Perhaps it would be better to cooperate if I wanted to participate in the investigation.

“I am Alphonse,” I said, extending a hand. “I want to help with the case.”

“Wha—how am I supposed to trust you? You’re not even authorized to be here! Why would you want to help to begin with?!”

Why is this lady so obsessed with the word “authorized”?

I really didn’t want to do this.I think to myself with an internal sigh.

“This academia… used to be the center of knowledge for everyone in Velrithia… Even if it costs me my life, I wish to find those responsible. Perhaps that way I could repay my debt to this country for all it has done for me… I guarantee you I won’t be a burden. Please give me a chance… I’m begging you…”

How pure… even though they were nothing but blatant lies. Still, this seemed like the best approach to convincing Ms.Detective to let me help. Though, I’m sure not everyone would be swayed so easily—

“I see… I’m so sorry to have misunderstood you, Mr. Alphonse. You seem to be a wonderful and honest gentleman.” The lady says, completely convinced. Her eyes gleaming with kindness and a sense of camaraderie

Never mind.

“Fine... I’m willing to give you a chance, but you must not interfere with the case or touch anything that could be potential evidence.” Lisa said, her eyes filled with kindness.

“I understand, I’m eternally grateful, Detective Lisa.” I said, silently wondering if I’d overdone it.

***

Lisa led the way through dimly lit corridors, their once-brilliant murals now obscured by grime. The echoes of our steps seemed deafening in the oppressive silence, and then we turned a corner—into a nightmare.

“Why... Who could be cruel enough...?” It was clear Lisa wasn’t used to blood.

The room was filled with mutilated corpses of students and professors alike, covered in splatters of blood. It was not a pretty sight to behold.

I knelt down to check the bodies as I seemed to catch something out of the corner of my eye.

“Detective, take a look,” Their left hands seemed to have a complex logo carved into the flesh. “Does this look familiar?” I ask the detective.

The detective’s eyes widened with horror as she observed the intricate carvings on the flesh.

“This is… the Bloodlust Cult’s signature,” Lisa whispered, her voice trembling as if she were uttering a cursed name. Her gloved fingers hovered over the intricate carvings etched into the blood-stained wall. The symbols pulsated with a faint, eerie glow, as though they were alive and feeding on the air around them.

“They’re not just a criminal organization,” she continued, her tone low, almost reverent in its fear. “The Bloodlust Cult worships the Demon of Blood—a being of pure malice and chaos, the creature who tamed hell itself. They wipe out entire communities for reasons unknown by anyone. Men, women, children… none are spared.”

She paused, her hand trembling as it lingered over the carvings. “But this…” Her voice cracked, and she took a step back. “The last time I saw this mark, it was carved onto my father’s body—ten years ago. He was… one of their sacrifices.”

The air grew heavy, oppressive, as if the very mention of the Demon of Blood had summoned its presence. A faint metallic tang filled my nostrils, and I glanced at Lisa. Her face was pale, her confidence from before now replaced with a haunted expression.

“And you think they’re responsible for this massacre?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

Lisa nodded, her eyes narrowing. “They must be. The precision, the cruelty… it’s their calling card. But this time…” She hesitated, her gaze flicking toward me as if weighing whether to continue. “There are whispers that the Blood Demon itself has awakened…”