“I’m glad someone cares! The guards told me that I should just have been more careful, can you believe that? Desecrating the final resting place of people shouldn’t just be waved off like this! I would like to see them if someone dug out the grave of someone they knew! Bastards!”

  “Mmh… So, you are actually the one in charge of all cemeteries in the area?”

  “Not all of ‘hem, but most that’s for sure! Most people would rather not have to do this job. The families and friends of those buried can be a bit annoying at times, but it’s understandable, wouldn’t ya agree? I do my best to keep them clean and tidy, but… Damned younguns! They aren’t interested in doing any labour these days, no matter how well it pays!”

  “I see… When did you start noticing signs of vandalism?”

  “Hold on… Let me think for a moment…”

  Standing inside a graveyard, a well-put-together youth wearing a cloak that covered most of his body was conversing with an old man with an eye so cloudy that it was certainly as good as blind, missing or yellowed teeth, and who was wearing worn-out overalls that had long lost their colours and which appeared on the verge of breaking down for good.

  The old man was rather repulsive to the eyes, but the youth seemed utterly unbothered by this.

  “Huh… I think it began a week ago… Yes! I remember I ate some sausages that night, this is not something I would forget easily, ahahah! Come, follow me! It will be faster if I show you”

  The old man also walked very slowly, his bent back at all times, as one of his crooked fingers eventually pointed to soil that had clearly been disturbed somewhat recently, compared to the surroundings. The grass was barely beginning to grow upon its surface.

  “It was the grave of this lad that I noticed something was wrong with first… The gravestone had just vanished, and the dirt had clearly been dug up! Real savages who did this, here is buried a real man! He had a beautiful future as a swordsman, but he was too nice for his own good! If I remember correctly, he tried to help a girl who was brutally murdered by the attackers, a dozen on one! Animals like these should be put down, let me tell ya!”

  The cloaked youth rubbed his chin, staring at the upturned dirt like it held secrets. His gaze turned cold for a moment before turning back to the old man.

  “Did you check if the corpse or belongings inside were taken?”

  “No, I didn’t dare to dig the grave up again, I have been trying to get in touch with the family, but I think they all left or passed away already…”

  “Is that so? Well then, excuse my lack of manners-”

  Raising his hand, something shifted in the air, and the dirt began to float, rapidly revealing a vandalised coffin alongside some broken skeletal remains. It looked as though someone had jumped down right into the ribcage.

  The old man held his balding head, muttering something to himself about magic and mages in a stupor.

  “You seem quite familiar with this particular person, so I assume that you conducted the burial… Was he buried with anything?”

  The gravekeeper took a second to gather himself.

  “The lad was buried with his sword… But… Seems like it is gone… What sort of low-life would do this?”

  “The worst kind–Do tell me if there is anything else worth mentioning, you spoke of several desecrations to the graves and the cemeteries as a whole, did you perhaps find suspicious footprints? Marks common to all sites following the damage? Don’t hesitate to mention everything you can think of, even if it sounds silly”

  The elder scratched his beard, hesitating for a moment.

  “...I personally think it is just an impression, but maybe a mage like yourself would find it useful. I noticed something: Every time something happened in a graveyard, I would arrive near it, and immediately notice that the… Ambiance? I don’t know if that’s the right word… but things just didn’t feel right, you get me? It was like something was missing… Huuuh… Ah! If I had to explain it, I guess it would be like if you lad walked into the same room every day, and for some reason, one of these days, there was just no mana to be sensed inside of it”

  “Is that so? Is there an unaffected graveyard that you could show me? I am afraid that I am not too familiar with those to draw a conclusion”

  “Hehehe, no problem! Anyone willing to help is welcome! And it’s good to see that the youth is not completely uninterested in everything. I wouldn’t have guessed that you were a mage at such a young age!”

  “It’s nothing much, my master noticed my talent when I was still a child. I am still far from matching him, no matter how simplistic his spells may have been. He is still far above me”

  The old man laughed.

  “And humble at that! You are a rare one, kid!”

  With the old man’s walking speed, it took them a while to reach the graveyard that had supposedly not been affected by the strings of vandalism. But immediately upon arriving, the young mage instantly knew what the elder had been trying to say.

  It was energy, this, he was certain of, but due to his limited experience and knowledge as purely a mana manipulator–Which would be the correct term to describe what most mages really were–He had no idea what sort of energy it was supposed to be, and frankly, without first-hand experience, most wouldn’t be able to identify an energy they weren’t intimately familiar with.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  There were probably hundreds of them, perhaps even thousands.

  He brought a book from a satchel and began flipping its pages, a gift from his master. Frankly, it was a common item owned by most mage apprentices. Its purpose was simple: Each page bore the distinct mark of a different type of energy and contained a description of it.

  Although in practice, most energies ended up being used in very similar ways, there were differences between them that were significant enough not to just lump them all into one big bag and call it a day.

  Thankfully, the energy in question was not an obscure one.

  “Negative energy… Makes sense, but what could be done to decrease the quantity so greatly?”

  As far as he was aware, wherever there was a strong concentration of a certain type of energy, it meant that the area naturally produced some, but in the previous graveyards, it hadn’t seemed to be that way at all.

  In hindsight, it was obvious that negative energy had been present, but it had seemed more like scraps and remnants. As though the very source that produced it had been removed somehow.

  “Mmh…”

  “Can I help, kid?”

  The young mage glanced at the old man. As objectively awful as he looked, that elder was quite the endearing character, reminiscent of his own grandfather in a way.

  For a moment, he wanted to say no, but a fresh perspective was always welcome.

  “You see, Sir, the difference you noticed is due to a sharp drop in a certain type of ambient energy. I believe that the one who unearthed graves and otherwise vandalised the graveyards was after whatever it was that was responsible for producing and maintaining the bulk of this energy. Any idea what it could have been? I doubt what they took was physical, though…”

  The elder slightly tilted his head.

  “What kind of energy might you be talking about?”

  “Oh”

  The young mage had been holding up the book at the right page, but only now did he realise that the gravekeeper was probably not fully literate and probably couldn’t even read the fancy font used in the book.

  “Negative energy–The name is a bit lazy, but it makes for a good enough description. Basically, it is said to be born out of negativity as a whole, more often from the negative emotions of people in particular”

  “Ah, I see! Then it must be the ghosts”

  “There are ghosts in the graveyards?”

  “Plenty of ‘hem! Sometimes, when I come at night, I hear them crying… Been a while since I visited any cemetery at night, though. I fall asleep like a log and am surprised to actually wake up the next morning!”

  The old man seemed quite certain of himself, and frankly, ghosts producing negative energy in graveyards that weren’t exactly the best kept and had bodies basically stacked atop one another… It wasn’t that hard to believe.

  “I see, thank you for the help, Sir. I’ll be watching this graveyard tonight. If you notice the same thing happening to other graveyards, do not hesitate to come find me here again”

  “It’s me who should be thanking you, boy!”

  The young mage received praises from the gravekeeper for some more time before the elder left the premises, leaving him all alone in a graveyard that had not yet been robbed.

  He sat down on an old stone bench and sighed heavily.

  This all felt like a wild goose chase.

  Ever since Benait had disappeared, Jupo had been looking everywhere for clues about what might have happened to him. Although his master had not exactly been the greatest one, he was a good man, and whatever it was that had happened to him was a grave injustice.

  Jupo had tried everything he could, but as an apprentice, many tricks were out of his reach, not to mention that Benait had been more focused on teaching him about swordsmanship rather than pure spellcasting. To the jolly guard, mana was best used by channelling it through your blade or to enhance your body.

  The only noteworthy spell he used was one that allowed him to slash through someone without actually harming them. It wasn’t even a spell that permitted phasing through solid objects in general, just to avoid harming certain people.

  To Jupo, this spell was a good representation of the kind of man Benait was…

  The apprentice had been looking everywhere to track down the killer, as it seemed likely that Benait had somehow actually run into them whilst randomly checking abandoned residences. Probably the residence that had a bunch of tunnels dug underneath it.

  This place was the last one Jupo had been able to find residuals of Benait, but there had been no proof whatsoever that anything had happened there.

  Since then, all that could be done was to try to track down all events that could possibly be tied to the killer, but this all felt senseless.

  Why would the sick freak move on from targeting the bourgeois to focusing on commoners, and then going into graveyards to attack ghosts of all things? If Jupo were presented with such a ludicrous idea in the past, he would have immediately discarded it as nonsense.

  And yet, here he was now, chasing after shadows that he was likely to be making up in his head.

  Several hours passed as he did nothing but stay still, sitting upon the cold bench, and a soft rain eventually began to fall as the sun was beginning to set over the horizon. Eventually, he leaned forward and only then did his gaze actually wander to the left, noticing an old door.

  He believed that this was the place where the gravekeeper would store tools and whatever else he might need.

  The rising winds caused it to creak, revealing that it wasn’t locked at all. Jupo had his curiosity roused.

  Standing up, he walked up to it and lightly pushed it open in full, a luminous orb of mana soon exited his palm, lighting up the dark interior.

  It was larger than one would have expected, and it wasn’t just filled with tools, but also with a table and a few chairs, presumably where the gravekeeper or anyone working here would eat their meal… But most striking were the coffins that were just stacked in there.

  Some were so old that they were clearly no longer usable. A body would just fall right through the rotten bottom.

  He focused on a coffin that was standing straight up at the end of the room. There was something sinister about it… And as though his thoughts had been spoken aloud, the coffin was nearly immediately flung open, its door brutally launched straight at him.

  Jupo’s eyes met two beady purple dots, a sight he wasn’t entirely unfamiliar with…