Finding the other mercenaries did not take long for Ira and Emil. This because they were already gathered outside of the manor, the grave countenance on their face proving that they had seen the first floor.

When the two walked out of the building, all eyes fell on them.

“Are you two the last ones?” a rat-like man with dark eyes questioned, crossing his arms and standing in front of the group.

“I suppose so.” Emil responded, “We’ve discovered a horrible truth.” He wanted to speak up before anyone could pitch suspicion onto them.

“Are you speaking about the bloodbath inside? We’ve seen it.” The woman next to the first mercenary showed an ugly expression.

Emil shook his head. “It’s related.”

“Speak.”

“We discovered approximately two hundred ghouls downstairs. We managed to get rid of them, but…”

Emil’s words started the sparks of conversation. Many surprised cries and gasps came from the crowd.

“A necromancer,” the rat man muttered, rubbing his goatee. “And ghouls? They must have been the culprits, then.”

Mutters of agreement came from various people.

“That’s what we thought as well,” Ira’s gruff voice began, “but after getting rid of them, the necromancer never showed.”

It took everyone less than two seconds to understand what this meant. There were three options: the necromancer was hiding in their group, the necromancer was still outside, or the necromancer was inside but not with them.

The first and third option were the most probable based off of a necromancer’s general profile.

Perceivably, the tension raised and everyone cast suspicious glances at each other. Those who had formed parties together were even tenser than the lone ones. After all, it was more likely that the necromancer had joined a small group to mask their presence.

“But, if they didn’t act when you killed the ghouls, that means…” the woman next to the skinny man stated. Her eyes darkened. “There’s another part that we aren’t aware of.”

Emil nodded. “With that in mind, we thought it’d best to inform everyone so we could all work together to get the necromancer.”

“Good thinking. The first step should be… well, who can prove they aren’t the necromancer? I’ll start.” The skinny man raised his hands up peacefully. “My name is Frank. I used to be a priest at a Church and my attribute is light. If I practiced something like necromancer, with the rules I’ve placed on myself, I would lose all of my magic.”

“You’re talking about Restricting Law? Show us the seal,” Ira said.

Emil was familiar with this spell, but it was something he did not use. With its power, the user could exchange sizeable strength for a strict law. If they were to break this law, depending on conditions set, they would even lose their lives. It was a common spell used for those who practiced at the various churches.

Frank didn’t have any issue revealing the glowing symbol on his forehead, its pure white light proving its attribute.

“But there’s no way to prove the necromancer doesn’t have someone like Frank on their side to mislead us,” an angry voice shouted from the crowd when everyone accepted Frank’s reasoning.

Everyone parted and a stout, twenty-something, brown-haired youth stepped forward. His ruddy face was even redder with irritation. He pointed at Frank. “You’re suspicious! Why were you so quick to prove that you weren’t the necromancer?”

Frank sneered contemptuously, “Someone who reacts so violently is also suspicious.”

“I am not a filthy fucking necromancer!” The brunette pounded his fist against his chest heavily. “I am a swordsman. I don’t rely on others to win my battles.”

Ira scoffed at his words and rolled her eyes. “Frank is right. We need to prove who is or who isn’t a necromancer. Those who can’t confirm it are the suspects. Any accomplices will be dealt with. But with the powerful old geezer guarding the outside, I doubt the necromancer has brought in a partner.”

“And who put you in charge?” the hot-headed man yelled. “You two aren’t cleared of suspicion, either.”

She shrugged and crossed her arms behind her head. “Whether or not you believe it, this is the quickest and most surefire method.”

His features were contorted with anger, but he didn’t deny her words. “Fine. I can prove it as well. My name is Daniel. I’m a magic swordsman.” He slapped the scabbard at his side and said nothing else.

“Where’s your proof?” the man next to him finally asked after a few moments of silence.

Daniel answered, “My sword is all the proof I need.”

“Even though you say that, none of us are going to believe you,” Emil said calmly. “To me, your “proof” is more suspicious than anything. I’m sure everyone else can agree to that.”

Actually, he did not believe that Daniel was the necromancer.

Even though he couldn’t tell who was the necromancer, he could tell who didn’t have the qualifications. Frank was one and Daniel was another. The quality of the anima flowing through their circuit was too pure.

There were a few others in the crowd like that, but then with ones who he couldn’t see through, they were suspects in his eyes. Ira had her own method as well: smell. Even if it was faint, the smell of death clung to a necromancer and they gave her a sticky feeling as well. It wasn’t exactly accurate, but it helped narrow down the field.

Thus, silently, the two of them had eliminated nearly half of the crowd.