Only the cultists' bodies were left in the rally, and no evidence could be found to prove the attackers' identity, making the investigation very difficult.
But one thing's certain, it was definitely not ordinary people who carried out this attack based upon the pungent and peculiar smell remaining in the air – it's the trace of the flames that had been contaminated.
Vanna carefully examined the oil lamps left in the basement. Beside her, a priest had taken out special powders and potions from the kit to analyze the lamps for residues that should not appear in the real world.
Fire had always been the most remarkable thing in this world.
It's the visible order, the handwriting of the gods when they make contact with the world, the evidence that "civilization still exists". When the flame burns, everything changes and leaves its mark.
Therefore, if there has been a supernatural-level battle here, the flames should carry some corresponding traces left in there.
After the priest began to get busy, Vanna returned to the middle of the basement to examine the corpse of a sun heretic who had fallen there.
"Nearly every bone in the body has been broken as if they had been directly hit by a raging bison. It's hard to imagine what kind of weapon could have caused such a result," a coroner said next to her.
"Blunt force strike… A brute force that could break dozens of bones at once?" Vanna frowned slightly, "What is it? A hammer with a diameter of one meter?"
The coroner shook his head: "Unlikely… Compared to these, the ashes over there at the end are more suspicious."
Vanna came to the end of the basement and saw the "ashes" mentioned by the other person.
There is a complete set of clothes scattered on the floor, and the grayish-black ashes scattered between the clothes indicate this should've been a person before they died.
"There is no doubt that it is some kind of supernatural power at work. Judging from the traces, it may be a kind of abnormal flame," Vanna judged based on the quick assessment. Then turning back to the coroner behind herself, "It is difficult for a normal flame to turn someone into ashes while preserving the person's clothes."
"The wall shows signs of impact, and this cultist seems to have been hit by a huge force as well before being burned by the flames," said another cleric at the scene. "This cultist was the only one in the whole scene that shows visible signs of being killed by supernatural forces and a power we have never seen before."
"In addition, we have also found a spot in the corner that has been seriously corroded by an unknown element. Unfortunately, we did not find any residual physical substance that might point us to its origin. Perhaps it's also the effect of a supernatural power."
"It could be a spell cast by a person, or it could be an anomaly," Vanna said casually, "Was this discovered by the citizen's report?"
"Yes, an enthusiastic citizen heard the strange noises in the abandoned factory and reported it to the officers and guardians nearby. They were in the middle of exchanging shifts for the night." The priest beside her nodded, "These cultists are very cautious. They erased the traces of their activities after entering the city-state and successfully lurked in the lower city. If it were not for this attack, they would probably be able to continue without our detection."
"It only means that there are more dens like this hidden in the shadows," Vanna comments in a heavy voice. "The gutters and alleys of the lower city are the focus of investigation this time…"
Just as she was halfway through her words, a guardian suddenly barged over from the side, holding something in his hand: "Inquisitor, look at this!"
Vanna immediately looked up and saw the guardian holding a small tray containing several slightly deformed copper bullets.
"We found two revolvers that had been fired at the scene. These bullets should be from those guns," the guardian reports. "And the blood on the bullets is most likely from the attacker!"
Vanna's eyes fell on those bullets and confirmed her peer's assessment. The tip was all deformed and contracted… but unlikely the result of hitting flesh less each of these bullets landed on bone.
Such precision would be difficult….
On top of that, how did these bullets, which had clearly hit their target, get left behind on the scene?
Vanna thought carefully and came up with two possibilities: either the attacker operated on himself to remove the bullets before departing, or the attacker had a special physical ability to "drain" the bullet out of the body by relying on their muscles.
Whatever the possibility, one thing was obvious. This powerful assailant took out all the cultists here without delay despite being shot several times, then calmly removed the bullets after the incident.
Vanna looked down at her own hands at the thought. She could do something similar like that, but it's precisely because she could that she knows how difficult it would be for mortal flesh.
"The one who killed these cultists should be a physically strengthened transcendent, and the weapon used is some kind of large blunt weapon," Vanna turned her head and said to a retinue. "The other side has rich combat experience, is strong-willed, and is extremely powerful. Considering the weapons used, the figure should also be very tall and a master of the flame. From preliminary judgment, the perpetrator is hostile towards the sun heretic. For the time being, we cannot determine whether they are on our side or not…"
"Inform all guardians and policemen at all levels to pay attention to those who meet the above characteristics. If a suspected target is found, give priority to reporting. Do not act rashly until contact is made with the main supervisors."
The guardian who served as the retinue immediately lowered his head: "Yes, Inquisitor."
Vanna exhaled softly, then sketched in her mind what the attackers at the scene of the rally might look like: a two-meter-tall man wielding a giant mace or hammer. The person is calm and fluent in martial arts and can summon a flame to do their bidding.
That's pretty much how it should be.
...
Back inside the antique shop.
Duncan had just sent off the second client with a smile on his face after opening this morning. The client was a rather chubby lady who appeared pleased by her purchase since she was a regular of the shop. Today, she had taken a fancy to a pair of vases intended for the new neighbor.
Obviously, the vase was not an authentic antique but an import from the wholesale market with a manufacturing date of last week.
After throwing a few crumpled bills into the drawer, Duncan sat back behind the counter, feeling a little calmer in his impetuous mood.
At least for now, opening this antique shop was a fun novelty for him. The profit of six coins could hardly be enough to satiate Duncan's appetite. It's better to stick with reporting cultists and reaping the bounty afterward.
Duncan divided his energy and paid attention to the situation on Ai's side then. The bird had arrived at the fourth block; unfortunately, no reaction had come from the sun talisman thus far.
Of course, this was to be expected. Although many cultists are pouring into the city-state of Pland, they are not to the extent that they could bloom everywhere. Besides, the job was not easy by nature.
Hunting requires patience.
Duncan leisurely enjoyed this quiet time, dividing his energy to pay attention to the movements of the dove while occasionally shifting to the situation on the Vanished. He would also control his main body on the ship and walk around while watching Alice fiddle with the items aboard. Such a life wasn't so bad if he looked at things positively.
At this moment, a crisp and pleasant sound of bells suddenly came from the direction of the doorway, interrupting his cranky thoughts under his leisure.
"Welcome," Duncan said casually as he looked up at the door, where an old gentleman with gray hair had entered.
It was a well-dressed old gentleman with a new and neat dark brown coat, polished leather shoes on his feet, a black cane of unknown material in his hand, and a meticulous bowtie.
It's not like the wardrobe of someone that would appear in the lower city, but more like the folks up at the Crossroad where the middle class would attend.
Duncan had no idea about the so-called "decent people" of this world, but he could tell at a glance that this old gentleman was not an ordinary customer.
"Do you have something fancy in mind?" He laughed like a real antique store manager. "Take what fate befalls you."