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In the spacious room, a blood-soaked man lay sprawled on the floor. Three guards with drawn swords lay nearby, all in much the same state.
Judging from the amount of blood and how much of it had already dried, it was far too late. They were dead.
I stayed alert for assassins, but there were no other signs of people.

“…That is Lord Mergio.”

Aylia took one look at the man and said so immediately.

After confirming that no one else was around, I looked down at the bodies.
The governor and the guards all bore knife wounds carved into their throats. Multiple slashes ran in the same direction.
This is an attempt to disguise the scene as the work of a werewolf.

“They intend to exploit your reputation, Lord Veit.”

Aylia muttered while keeping watch around us, and I let out a sigh.

“It irritates me that such sloppy staging could pin this on me, and the people who were killed wouldn’t rest easy either.”

The culprits were most likely the Senate.
Which means the governor of Zaria had been deemed an enemy by the Senate, making him a probable ally for the Demon Lord’s Army.
I’d never met the man, but I simply can’t ignore having an ally murdered.

The problem is figuring out whose people are coming toward us right now.
They could be guards bought off by the Senate, or assassins disguised as guards.
On the other hand, they might be sending in ordinary guards who know nothing, just to make them witness the scene.
A wrong response here would be disastrous.

For a moment, I considered just taking Aylia and fleeing.
But if we didn’t secure the murder scene, we’d probably be saddled with the blame.

“Lady Aylia.”
“Yes?”

Her face was pale, but she answered bravely.
As I transformed into a werewolf, I spoke to her.

“I’m going to hold you for a bit.”
“W-what!?”

I gave a brief apologetic bow and scooped Aylia up in a princess carry.

Several guards burst into the room, froze in place at the sight of Governor Mergio’s corpse.

“Lord Mergio!?”
“T-the governor! Someone, call a doctor!”
“The captain’s down too! Sound the emergency alarm!”

The guards draw their swords and scan the area.

“Where are the Demon Lord’s officers and the governor of Lüenheit!?”
“Did they do this!?”
“Look—werewolf claw marks!”

Yeah, given the situation, that’s what anyone would think.
Judging by their reactions, they don’t seem to be on the Senate’s side.

At that moment, escorted by guards, a young girl rushed in. She was boyish, with short hair.
Her clothes were fine, and a gem-studded dagger hung at her waist—she must be a noble of this city.

“Lady Shatina, you mustn’t!”
“It’s dangerous, Lady Shatina!”

But the girl called Shatina shook off the guards restraining her and clung to the governor’s body.

“Father! Father!”

This is bad—the governor’s daughter.
I’d heard that the governor of Zaria had only one heir, a daughter. It must be her.

It would be better to clear up the misunderstanding as quickly as possible.
Still holding Aylia, I dropped silently from the ceiling beam where we had been hiding and landed on the floor.
Then I spoke to the stunned guards.

“I am Veit, adjutant of the Demon Lord’s army. This is Lady Aylia, governor of Lüenheit. We did not kill the governor.”

They all tense at once, but Aylia gracefully steps down from my arms and holds out a hand to stop them.

“Wait! We are innocent!”

The guards seem cowed by Aylia’s gaze and freeze.
Then the girl who had been clinging to the governor’s body stands up.
Her face twisted with grief and anger, she glares at us.

“You expect me to believe that!? When a werewolf is just right there?!”

Her head’s overheated from having her father killed. Given her age, that’s only natural.
She clearly has no intention of listening to anything I say—but I need her to listen no matter what.
So I decide to start persuading her the way I know best.
Intimidation.

I unleash my demonic roar, “Soul Shaker.”
The air itself trembles violently.

“Eek!”
“W-what!?”
“Ah!”

It’s a roar that shakes the air, mana, and the human heart alike.
A few decorative vases shatter and a mirror cracks as a side effect, but we’ll let that slide.
Once everyone has collapsed to the floor, unable to move, I lean close to Shatina’s face.

“Just listen to me.”

Shatina trembles in fear, but still glares back at me with defiant eyes.
To deny that glare, I shake my head.

“If I were the culprit, you’d all be dead already. More importantly, look at your father’s body.”
“My father’s…?”
“Zaria is a dry land. Would the blood of someone freshly killed really dry that quickly?”
“That’s…”

As Shatina falters, I continue.

“If he’d taken this many wounds while alive, blood would normally splatter onto the walls and ceiling. But the governor’s blood has only pooled on the floor.”

After the heart stops, bleeding isn’t that severe.

“They likely inflicted the wounds after death to make it look like werewolf claws. And since there are signs of vomiting, the true cause of death was probably poison.”

Aylia adds from the side,

“Lord Veit’s ferocity has gained him a distorted reputation. The assassins likely tried to exploit that.”

Then, looking apologetic, she continues,

“They underestimated you because you are young and inexperienced, Lady Shatina. They thought that if you mistook us for your father’s killers, Zaria would never side with the Demon Lord’s army.”

Shatina and the guards exchange looks and fall silent.

“Then… it really wasn’t you……?”
“Of course not.”

As I quietly step closer to the wall, having caught a faint sound, I speak on.

“There’s one more thing that’s especially unnatural. Someone killed by werewolf claws wouldn’t end up as intact as this.”

Shatina looks puzzled.

“Intact?”
“That’s right.”

I lightly touch the wall and nod.
Here it is.

“Watch closely. This is what happens when someone is cut by a werewolf’s claws.”

I activate an enhancement spell and slash.
The thick sun-dried brick wall is cleaved apart, kicking up a cloud of dust.

“Aaagh!”

A man’s scream and a spray of blood.
A moment later, something slams violently onto the ground.

“There was someone hiding!?”

Shatina shouts from where she’s still sitting, and I nod as I look down.
A man’s corpse, split cleanly in half at the torso, stains the ground red.
A severed length of rope dangles from the rooftop, swaying back and forth.
It seems he was eavesdropping on our conversation.

I trace the cut surface of the wall with a claw and turn back to Shatina.

“I noticed someone jumping onto the roof, so I cut through the wall along with him.”

Of course, my claws aren’t long enough, so I used a spell that extends a blade of magic from a weapon or the tips of one’s fingers.
I remembered Master using it and decided to imitate it a bit.
Still, the strain of cutting through the wall makes my claws throb, so I won’t be using it outside of moments like this.

Enduring the pain, I speak calmly to Shatina.

“I know it hurts to have your father murdered. But those who stand above others must remain calm, even when their kin is killed.”

The image of the late Demon Lord suddenly flashes through my mind.
Back then, I couldn’t stay calm. I have no right to sound so self-important.
That’s why—having spoken so loftily—I’ll make sure to protect Shatina myself.

Shatina still looks like she hasn’t fully sorted out her feelings, but she seems to understand that I wasn’t the culprit.
Finally freed from her paralysis, she takes the hand I offer and stands.

“You truly aren’t my father’s killer… our enemy?”
“That’s for you to decide. I will protect you.”
“Protect me?”

Shielding Shatina and Aylia behind my back, I answer,

“There are still many assassins.”
“M-many!?”
“They must’ve changed their approach now that they failed to deceive you.”

Several on the rooftop, several more coming from the corridors.
Including those in neighboring buildings, a considerable number of people are moving together at a run.

Taking over for the shaken Shatina, Aylia shouts,

“Guards, protect Lady Shatina! Watch the doors and windows!”

At that moment, the corridor grows noisy.

“Enemy attack!”

At the same time as the shout, more guards come flooding into the room.

But the instant the newcomers enter, the guards already inside launch an attack on them.
At a glance it’s impossible to tell which side is which, but fierce fighting breaks out among the guards near the entrance.

“What the hell!? They’re wearing the uniform of our proud guard!”
“The enemy is disguised as guards! Don’t let them near Lady Shatina!”
“No matter—cut down anyone who tries to enter the room!”

It seems the guards can distinguish friend from foe by their faces. Something a newcomer like me can’t possibly do.

At this point, it’s impossible to tell who’s an ally and who’s an enemy.
Aylia and Shatina are in danger.
Three assassins rappel in through a window using ropes—masked men wielding daggers.
I shield Shatina with my body, kick the first assassin straight back out the window, and cut down the second and third with the claws on either side.
Their movements are sharp, but their swordsmanship is mediocre.

“Breaking in through windows—poorly mannered lot.”
“Lord Veit, that’s—”

Aylia, holding Shatina close with one arm and her saber in the other, looks at me as if she wants to say something.
…Now that I think about it, I did do that to her. She remembered that, huh.

But judging by this, there are still more.
One even took advantage of the chaos to aim a crossbow from a neighboring building’s window. I’d had my eye on that spot from the start, so it was obvious to me.
The instant he fires, I step in front of Shatina.

“Eh!?”

I show the startled girl the poison-tipped bolt I caught.

“It has the same smell as what was coming off your father’s body. Most likely, purple willow poison.”

Among the purple bitter willows that grow in this world, those found in the north have poison in their leaves and bark.
After overwintering animals stripped away the bark, only the highly toxic individuals survived.
It’s a poison that induces vomiting and is highly lethal whether ingested or injected. It’s a common weapon in the north—used for hunting, exterminating demonfolk, and even assassinating important figures. I’ve been hit by it myself.
Southern purple bitter willows have almost no poison, so only people from the north would use this toxin.
The assassin practically handed us his calling card.

Just as I was thinking I should return the favor to that shooter, he collapses outside the window in a spray of blood.

“Vice-Commander, sorry to keep you waiting. Leave this area to us.”

From the neighboring building, Hammarn—in werewolf form—salutes crisply with a serious expression. His squad members are taking out snipers in other spots as well.

“Good work. Guards are mixed between friend and foe. Do not intervene.”
“Understood.”

With that reply, Hammarn disappears from the window frame.