Chapter Forty-Six: The Enchantress

Listening to Dave’s endless complaints, Hughes knew at once that Master Matt had sent him out under the pretense of delivering a letter—resolving the lord’s troubles was the real task at hand.

“You’ve been investigating for so long and still haven’t found anything?” Hughes inquired calmly, probing for the latest news in the city.

“Oh, there have been disappearances, all right. All the missing are young people. At first it was infants, but there aren’t many of those, so then it was young girls. The city’s population has been dwindling—now even young men have begun to vanish,” Lord Dave recalled, trying to piece together the recent events.

“When are these disappearances usually discovered?” asked Hughes. The choices of victims seemed deliberate—if there had been more infants, perhaps others wouldn’t have been targeted.

“Always in the morning, when someone goes to a room and finds them missing. It must happen in the middle of the night, but we questioned many families and not a single person heard anything unusual.” Dave had a servant refill Hughes’s tea.

“Oh, that’s right! Someone did hear a woman’s scream—it sounded utterly wretched!” Dave suddenly remembered, exclaiming loudly.

“A scream…” Hughes fell into deep thought. The information Dave had provided was scant. Without more evidence, not even the chip could deduce the culprit from these clues alone.

“If the culprit only acts at night, I’ll see for myself this evening,” Hughes decided. He would walk the streets at night—he fit the profile of the victims perfectly.

“Yes, yes, that would be most helpful!” Dave, who had been driven to distraction by these events, felt a weight lift from his shoulders at Hughes’s willingness, sensing hope at last.

“It’s only right,” Hughes replied with a gentle smile. If he didn’t help, he’d be in trouble with the academy upon his return.

“I’ve already had lunch prepared—this way, please!” Dave led Hughes to the dining room, smiling.

The table was sparsely set, yet it was clear each dish had required much effort. Hughes tasted them—each was delicious, especially for someone who’d eaten nothing but dry rations for over ten days.

He tucked in heartily, while a maid attentively kept his soup bowl full.

Dave, watching Hughes’s appetite, chuckled with satisfaction.

“If you’ll pardon my asking, where are your wife and child?” Hughes hadn’t forgotten his other mission—to test the lord’s child for magical talent.

“I sent them both away, given the circumstances,” Dave replied, a little awkwardly.

Hughes nodded in understanding.

“As for my daughter attending the Mage Academy, we’ll discuss that later. I’ll explain everything to Matt myself, don’t worry.” Dave hurried to clarify, recalling his earlier conversation with Master Matt.

Hughes didn’t mind; this spared him an extra task.

Lunch ended quickly. Dave had intended to show Hughes some unique sights of Serya, but Hughes politely declined.

For the past ten days, Hughes had spent all his rest hours meditating—now he wanted nothing more than a good sleep.

Dave didn’t press him. Instead, he ordered someone to lead Hughes to his room and have hot water prepared.

“Ah!” After washing, Hughes lay quietly on the bed, taking a deep breath and preparing for a sound sleep before the night’s events.

The soft bed quickly drew Hughes into contemplation, while Lord Dave mobilized his men, doing all he could to support Hughes’s operation that night.

Hughes woke in a haze, sitting on the bed in a daze before stretching and noticing that darkness had fully settled. A crescent moon hung high above.

He checked the chip for the time—it was already eight in the evening. After freshening up, he went downstairs.

Descending the staircase, he saw Lord Dave deep in thought.

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” Hughes apologized.

“No matter. You must be tired after so many days on the road. Dinner is just now ready, you’re right on time,” Dave replied, instructing the servants to bring in the dishes.

Soon, dinner was served.

“I’ve made all the arrangements. With you here tonight, even if we don’t catch the culprit, we should at least find some clues,” Lord Dave said, showing complete faith in the student his old friend had sent.

“That won’t be necessary. All the missing have been young people, so tonight I’ll walk the streets alone, to lure the culprit out. Too many people would only hinder me,” Hughes explained—he’d already settled on his plan earlier.

“Trust me,” Hughes added, meeting the lord’s eyes with confidence.

Dave started to object, but remembering the young man’s true status, swallowed his words.

After dinner, Hughes noted the time—it was still early—so they sat and chatted. Lord Dave, a shrewd and seasoned man, was adept in conversation, and the two quickly found common ground. Laughter rang out in the hall.

Soon enough, midnight approached, and Hughes prepared to put his plan into action.

Lord Dave, worried, wanted to send men with Hughes, but was refused.

After bidding Dave farewell, Hughes headed out alone onto the streets.

The early spring wind was still chilly, and the streets were utterly deserted. Every door was tightly shut, and many windows were nailed fast with wooden boards.

All patrols Lord Dave had assigned were also canceled at Hughes’s request.

Checking the time, Hughes saw it was already past midnight—the likely hour for the perpetrator to strike.

He wandered the empty streets, hoping to draw the culprit out.

To an ordinary person, his plan was an obvious trap, unlikely to succeed. But Hughes suspected the assailant might not be human. The victims were always young and unremarkable, and not taken for wealth—strange indeed. Even if the culprit was not human, their numbers couldn’t be large, or they’d have left more traces.

He walked on, yet the night remained eerily silent.

“Hmm? Could it be the culprit hasn’t noticed me and has gone elsewhere?” Hughes mused, finding the lack of response odd. Strolling so openly should have drawn attention.

Without realizing, he wandered into a particularly narrow alley.

No sooner had he entered than he sensed eyes upon him. He couldn’t pinpoint their location, but the feeling was unmistakable.

“So, you’ve been waiting here for me,” Hughes thought, feigning nonchalance as he ventured deeper into the alley.

The passage was pitch-black, with only the moonlight to see by. Few people lived in this area, and after recent events, the rest had long since moved away.

A faint creak reached Hughes’s ears.

“Finally lost patience, have you?” He smiled slightly, pretending not to notice while his right hand crept to his sword hilt.

A sudden blur shot toward him, claws aimed straight at his throat for a killing blow.

Hughes, hearing the attack from behind, drew his sword in a flash, blocking the claws.

He parried and quickly leapt back to gain distance.

Bathed in moonlight, Hughes at last got a clear look at his assailant—a creature with the body of a human, the face of an eagle, and wings spanning nearly five meters, hovering in midair. Its eyes glowed green in the night, fixed intently on Hughes.

“Alert: Host has been attacked by a biological entity. Probability of Banshee: 98.97%. Probability of Nightmare Sprite: 69.23%. Probability of Gryphon: 24.68%.”

“So, it’s a Banshee,” Hughes thought, recalling Lord Dave’s mention of a woman’s terrible scream—this must be her. The creature’s stench of blood and rot made it clear the missing people were her handiwork.

The chip immediately displayed extensive information on Banshees.

Banshees are exceptionally bloodthirsty creatures, always female, and are known to venture into human lands to capture men for breeding—once impregnated, they devour the men. What puzzled Hughes was that Banshees normally appear in large groups, never alone like this.

Their strength is not exceptional, nor do they possess much wit, and they typically hunt at night just as now.

They aren’t especially hard to deal with—their most dangerous weapon is their wail, which causes ordinary people to fall into a stupor, though most recover within a few minutes. The strong-willed are rarely affected.

But this Banshee was unlike any described—an adult is usually only two or three meters tall, while this one reached a full five meters.