The jagged breach in the wall was narrow and choked with a thick, settling cloud of plaster dust.
For a moment, no one moved. The terrifying impossibility of what the young Lord had just done hung in the suffocating air. Sergeant Thomas stared at Ray’s unblemished hand with wide, terrified eyes. Master Alvon opened his mouth, a dozen frantic questions about Valorian techniques burning on his tongue, while Svane looked at the boy as if he were staring at a ghost.
They all desperately wanted to ask. They needed to know what kind of monster this boy was hiding beneath his aristocratic clothes. But Headmaster Andrade, ever the pragmatist, swallowed her own shock and broke the silence. The questions would have to wait.
"Focus. We have a body here."
Andrade commanded, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade. She pointed to the dark void beyond the rubble.
The seasoned veterans shoved their questions deep down, instantly shifting back into professional gear.
Svane approached the hole, but his massive build immediately scraped against the splintered wood. Beside him, Master Alvon frowned as his own bulky plate mail clattered loudly against the tight constraints of the opening.
"Hold your positions. The passage is too tight for people with heavy build and those wearing heavy armor, and we cannot risk collapsing the supports for this abandoned passageway. Secure the corridor. Novice Croft, your attendant, and myself will investigate the body."
Headmaster Andrade ordered, raising her hand.
Svane gave a crisp nod, stepping back to guard the breach with Sergeant Thomas. Alvon looked incredibly displeased at being left behind, but he didn't argue with the Headmaster's logic.
Ray ducked through the jagged hole, followed closely by Rina and Headmaster Andrade. The air inside the forgotten secret passageway was stale, suffocating, and smelled heavily of dry rot and old earth.
With a flick of her wrist, Andrade sent her floating sphere of illuminating light drifting forward, casting stark, shifting shadows against the narrow, cobweb-draped walls.
A dozen paces ahead, the crumpled form of the junior maid lay motionless on the dusty floorboards. She was positioned face-down, her arms tucked awkwardly beneath her torso.
Ray approached slowly. He knelt beside the body, the dust puffing up around his boots. Gently, he gripped the maid's shoulder and carefully rolled her over onto her back.
Rina, standing just behind him, let out a sharp gasp. She raised a hand to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
"It's her, young master. It's Hannah."
Ray placed two fingers against the side of the girl's neck, pressing into the carotid artery. Her skin was terribly cold to the touch. He waited for three seconds, feeling absolutely nothing.
He looked up at the Headmaster and gave a single, grim shake of his head.
"She is dead."
Andrade’s expression tightened into a hard, unforgiving mask.
"Find out how."
Ray looked back down at the young woman. He initiated Concurrent Partial Immersion and activated The World-Weary Healer’s ‘Diagnosis (Intermediate)’ and The Gritty Detective’s ‘Observation’ and ‘Forensic Acuity’ skills.
The dim, dusty passageway instantly washed out into the sharp, clinical overlay of a forensic examination.
Detective: "Look at her neck. Dark, localized contusions pressing deeply into the tissue. The bruising pattern indicates a wide, powerful grip. She wasn't choked with a garrote or a wire. She was manually strangled."
Healer: "Confirming manual strangulation. Notice the tiny, pinprick red dots in the whites of her eyes and along her inner eyelids. Petechial hemorrhaging. The capillaries burst as the pressure on her jugular veins restricted blood flow out of her head."
Ray gently tilted Hannah’s head back, his gloved thumb pressing lightly on her chin to open her mouth.
Healer: "Oh my god. Again?!."
Ray's jaw tightened. Just like Warren Ramada, Hannah’s mouth was filled with coagulated blood. Her tongue had been surgically severed deep at the root. The killer was taking absolutely no chances. They were tying up loose ends and ensuring the Speak with Dead spell wouldn't work on anyone involved in this conspiracy.
Detective: "Wait. Ray, look closer. Something is wrong with the body. Something glaring."
Guided by the Detective's Forensic Acuity, Ray’s eyes swept over Hannah's face, neck, and the exposed skin of her arms.
Detective: "We found her lying face-down. When the human heart stops beating, it stops pushing blood through the veins. Gravity takes over. The blood sinks to the lowest points of the body and pools there, causing a dark, purplish discoloration. It's called ‘lividity.’"
Healer: "Her face, chest, and the front of her arms are deeply bruised with anterior lividity. And the tissue is completely fixed. The blood won't shift if you press on it. Combine that with her drastically lowered core body temperature and the advanced state of rigor mortis in her jaw..."
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The two archetypes came to the exact same, terrifying conclusion simultaneously.
Healer: "Ray... she has been dead for at least six hours."
Conman: "What? That's impossible. Lady Jane said a frantic, terrified Hannah ran into the ballroom to report the murder less than two hours ago."
Detective: "Hannah didn't run into the ballroom. Hannah was already lying dead in this dusty corridor while Warren Ramada was still pouring wine. The girl who spoke to Lady Jane... the girl who established the timeline of the 'discovery'... was the killer."
Ray slowly severed the immersion, the sharp clinical overlay fading back into the gloomy light of the mana sphere.
"Report, Novice Croft."
Andrade urged, her voice low.
"The cause of death was manual strangulation, and like Mr. Ramada, she has been mutilated. Her tongue was surgically excised at the root. But that is not the most alarming detail."
Ray said, his voice flat.
Ray paused, letting out a small sigh. He knew what he was about to say would sound impossible for a teenage noble to know. He had to build an alibi for his own genius.
"Headmaster, in my pursuit of the magical arts, I have spent countless hours in the Spire of Sages library reading highly advanced, theoretical medical texts and anatomical histories to better understand my own physical condition."
Ray said carefully.
Andrade narrowed her eyes slightly, unsure of where he was going.
"I am aware you are an avid reader, Novice Croft. Get to the point."
"In those texts, there is a biological phenomenon described as 'Lividity or Livor Mortis.' When a person dies, gravity pulls their blood downward. Because we found her lying face-down, the blood has pooled on the anterior side of her body."
To prove his point, Ray pressed two fingers firmly against the dark purple bruising on the maid's collarbone. He held the pressure for a second, then pulled his hand away. The skin remained a stark, bruised violet.
"Notice how the skin does not turn white where I press. If she had died recently, the pressure would push the unsettled blood aside temporarily, a reaction called blanching. But the blood here does not move. The lividity is completely fixed. Based on this undeniable physical state, combined with her extreme drop in core temperature and the advanced onset of rigor mortis..."