The guards had all seen blood before. At the first whiff of that smell, all three men's faces darkened.

'Clang!'

The captain drew his sword, and strode quickly into the wooden house.

Rosen hurried after him. Before he reached the house, he heard the captain utter a low cry: "Oh damn!"

Peering in, Rosen saw the alchemist Stan slumped over a table, a dagger buried deep in his back. On the table next to him were a few dishes of food.

Clearly he had been ambushed while eating breakfast.

The assailant was quite skilled, for even though the alchemist had no real magic, he did have some power. A mage's hands were generally nimble, and ordinary folk were no match for them.

The body was still dripping blood, and the puddle on the floor hadn't fully coagulated either.

Rosen said at once: "The man's been dead less than ten minutes."

As he spoke, a thought flashed swiftly through his mind.

'He's been dead less than ten minutes, yet there are no footsteps of the killer in the yard. Could the assassin have flown in, or did he only have time to wipe away his prints at the door before escaping?!'

At this idea, Rosen cried loudly: "Watch out, captain! The killer may still be in the house!"

He was also on full alert, scanning their surroundings for traces left by the assassin.

'Clang! Clang!'

The two guards also raised their shields.

The three warriors and Rosen stood back to back in the middle of the room, their eyes darting swiftly through every corner.

The alchemist's wooden house was not large, just a single story. The layout was simple with no partitions dividing the living room, bedroom and kitchen. The whole interior was plainly visible.

The guards' gazes swept the house several times, even checking the ceiling, but found no trace of the assassin.

"Seems like no one's here," the captain muttered.

"Maybe he jumped out the window... No, wait. The back window's too small to fit a man. Jumping out the front window makes no sense either." One guard said quickly.

"Or perhaps the boy guessed wrong. Maybe he left long ago," the other guard disagreed.

Rosen kept silent. He was staring at the floor.

There were muddy footprints, a puddle of fresh blood, and specks of blood spatter on the floorboards, but these messy traces didn't seem to reveal any useful clues, at least not to the guards.

But Rosen noticed something.

He lowered his voice. "Sirs, look under the rug!"

The mage's hand gently lifted the fur rug on the floor, revealing faint footprints that led towards the inner side of the room. They suddenly vanished at a wooden plank.

It was clear the assassin had wanted to leave, but Rosen's unexpected arrival had trapped him inside. So he had slipped under the rug to hide his tracks until he reached his hiding spot, before lowering the rug again to cover his prints.

The captain understood at once: "There's a hidden cellar under the floor!"

He turned and signalled to the two guards, pointing at the floorboards.

"Check it out. Pry those boards open. But be careful, don't let him ambush you."

The two guards crept forward and carefully inserted their longswords into the gaps between the planks. Then with a coordinated heave, they pried a board loose.

"Wham!"

The board flew upwards, revealing a square, pitch-black hole. Nothing could be seen inside.

Rosen didn't dare take chances. He quickly retreated to the door.

The three guards were also visibly tense, not daring to act recklessly.

The captain looked left and right, and found an oil lamp on the wall. He lit it and held it aloft on a wooden stick near the hole's entrance.

"No more hiding. Come out!"

No response came. The flickering lamplight illuminated the cellar slightly, revealing wooden crates along one side. But there was no cowering assassin to be seen.

The assassin in the cellar had become a cornered beast. Whoever charged in would likely end up dead.

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All men feared for their lives. Naturally the guards were no different. The three only stood around the hole's rim, not daring to casually enter the cellar and investigate.

Of course Rosen didn't dare either. Who knew how capable the hidden assassin was? Make one wrong move and he'd lose his young life.

But just because the men didn't dare enter, didn't mean others wouldn't.

A thought struck Rosen. He moved over to whisper in the captain's ear: "Sir, why not borrow a few vicious hounds from the neighbors and toss them in?"

The captain's eyes lit up. "Ah-ha! Good idea, boy!"

He barked at his men: "What are you gawking for? Go!"

"Yes captain!"

After a while, the soldier returned with a butcher in tow. The butcher held a meaty bone in his left hand, and three stout dogs on leashes in his right.

Behind the two men followed another patrol of guards.

At the door, the captain briefed the butcher on the situation. The butcher then flung the meaty bone into the cellar. The three dogs gave a fierce bark and leaped right in.

A few seconds later, fierce snarling and pained grunts sounded from the hole.

Shortly after, agonized yelps from the dogs rang out too, followed swiftly by screams of torment from a man.

One could imagine the savagery within. The assassin must have been badly wounded.

To be mauled so by hunting hounds, his skills were clearly mediocre. Killing the alchemist was mainly due to catching him by surprise.

While the vicious battle raged below, two guards rushed forward with 3-meter long iron spears. Guided by the lamplight they repeatedly stabbed into the cellar.

By this point, the assassin's fate was sealed.

Capturing him was now only a matter of time.

During this time, Rosen wasn't just watching the excitement. His mind continued churning rapidly.

"Alchemist Stan was a man of status. Killing him openly would cause severe backlash. That's why he was kept alive."

"But the moment I started investigating the embalming fluid, he was murdered. This means the alchemist saw the true killer's face. It also means someone is monitoring my every move."

"That watcher is likely the true culprit."

"If I were him, I definitely wouldn't assassinate the alchemist personally. Instead I'd hire a professional killer, while observing the aftermath myself to plan my next move."

"So the cellar assassin likely knows nothing useful."

At this thought, Rosen suddenly noticed a mirror on the nearby table.

A faint idea stirred. The mage's hand picked up the mirror.

He then went to the street-facing window and stood against the wooden wall, using the mirror to discreetly observe the alley outside.

Due to the commotion within, many people had gathered in the yard to watch the excitement.

Most stood in the alley itself, while some were across the street in doorways or windows of the facing houses.

Peering through the mirror's reflection, Rosen scrutinized them one by one.

As he looked, his gaze settled on a second story window about 40 meters away in a wooden building.

The window was dimly lit, with curtains mostly drawn aside to leave only a tiny sliver of gap.

"That's odd," thought Rosen.

He immediately summoned his Adventure Log, using its viewpoint to zoom in for a clearer look.

Now he could see clearly - within the gap was a pair of eyes.

Why peer so furtively in broad daylight when there was excitement to openly watch?

Unless the watcher had a guilty conscience!

Even so, Rosen didn't act rashly. He kept surveying the surroundings, taking in the terrain while looking for other suspicious onlookers.

After a quick scan, he found no other suspicious figures.

That meant the man at the window could be the mastermind behind the recent string of murders, or at least an accomplice!

Rosen felt his heart race slightly. With a mage's hand, he put the mirror back.

Then he went over to the captain and whispered: "Sir, the assassin can't escape now. I have other business to attend to, so I'll take my leave first."

The captain thought carefully and realized this matter truly had nothing to do with the boy. It was even better that he left, so the captain could claim full credit for capturing the killer.

"Alright, be careful on the road."

"I will, sir."

Rosen left the wooden house with a normal expression, walking casually along the alley.

But in truth, he kept watching the upstairs window through his Adventure Log, quickly noticing another subtle detail.

When he first exited the house, the man had looked at Rosen a few times. But once Rosen moved far from the alchemist's house, the man's gaze returned to it.

After a little thought, Rosen understood.

"That man doesn't recognize me. Most likely he's just the assassin's accomplice, not the true mastermind!"

In that case, Rosen quietly slipped into the man's blind spots and moved under the wooden building.

Reaching the front, he focused his mind. A metal bead flew from his sleeve, shooting around the corner and into the upstairs window, aimed low at the target's legs.

Rosen had already decided - if he made a mistake, he would just pay compensation. But if he was right, it would pay off.

'Thunk! Argh!'

The sounds of the bead piercing flesh and a pained cry came almost simultaneously. But the cry was cut off abruptly after just half a note.

So this faint noise went unnoticed by the others.

But why would a normal person stifle their screams of pain?

This lent further credence to Rosen's deduction.

'Whoosh!'

Another metal bead flew out, slipping back into the upstairs window. This time only a 'thump' was heard as it struck wood.

The target had shifted position.

Rosen focused his mind, circulating his magic power. His body floated upwards directly to the second story window, while two metal beads swirled protectively around him - the repelling force field was at the ready.

'Whoosh!'

The two beads darted into the window first. Once inside, they didn't shoot straight, but arced round to slam into the walls on both sides of the window.

Two muffled "thumps", and the walls shook loose dust and debris. No flesh was struck, meaning no ambush lay inside.

Only now did Rosen rush in.

Upon entering the room, his eyes scanned all around.

It was an unoccupied empty room. Although fully furnished, everything was covered in a thick layer of dust.

Near the window on the floorboards were copious bloodstains. Bloody footprints clearly led from the window to the room's door.

One set of prints was clear, while the other dragged - indicating the man's leg was injured. Yet even so gravely wounded, his mobility was still decent.

'Skilled fellow. Although ambushed and hurt, he hasn't lost fighting capacity. The complex layout makes chasing risky - one misstep and I could eat a backstab!'

He had come to investigate, and teachers might also be protecting in secret, but there would always be oversights.

So he couldn't let hot blood rush to his head, otherwise not even ten lives would suffice!

Rosen pondered two seconds as several ideas flashed rapidly through his mind. Then he leapt out the window again.

Unknown to him, in the corridor ceiling right behind the room's door, a black figure held his breath with his body splayed against the walls above the narrow hallway like a gecko.

The figure's right leg trembled slightly from agony, but his hand gripped a blackened dagger tightly.

Only when he heard the room's sounds recede did the black figure finally relax with a gasp, his body going limp and drifting down from the ceiling like a feather.

Behind the face mask were eyes filled with shock and alarm.