As they walked towards the mayor’s mansion, the sun blinded their view. The setting sun illuminated the hilly horizon. 

Despite the disappearance of the plexplex, many demons still roamed the streets. However, between the six of them, they were easy to handle. Infamous Biscuit suggested Nightscythe face more of them to level up faster. However, he tired out quickly due to his low stamina. 

By the time they reached the gates of the mansion, it was almost dark out. Just outside the fancy wrought iron fencing stood a separate large building. It had its own low decorative fence around, and a prominent stone path leading up to the building’s doorway. Above the entrance, a large sign made out of painted wood letters read:

{Shaman Services}

Underneath in a smaller font listed:

{Nafis Onar} {Jura Kimsan} {Ghira Nabi}

“Let’s check out this shaman shop first,” Freya suggested. “I’m more suspicious of them anyway.”

“Is it common for there to be more than one shaman?” Heilong asked, looking at the three names.

“Larger towns and cities often have multiple shamans, although it is a bit odd they’re all in the same residence. Usually, they would try to spread out to cover different sections of the city.”

The door of the shaman shop was slightly ajar. 

Creeek!

Freya winced at the noise as she pushed open the door. Inside was completely dark. Bringing out her light stone, she infused in her qi and held it up to illuminate the space.

The scene brought her back to her own destroyed shop.

Broken glass littered the floor. Streaks of color painted the floorboards. Bits of herbs were strewn about. A dubious smell wafted up from the room. Pungent incense and rotting herbs almost covered up the odor, but Freya recognized the scent.

“I think I’m going to throw up,” Nightscythe said, with a hand over his mouth.

“Don’t force yourself,” Infamous Biscuit said. “Why don’t you keep a lookout.”

Nightscythe nodded and stayed outside. Hamra also refrained from the investigation and stayed with him. Meanwhile, the others pinched their noses and went inside. Crunching glass echoed through the room as the five of them entered the building.

The front room was similar to Freya’s shaman shop, just triple the size. Three round tables were placed in separate corners, and a large front desk sat in front of the door to the larger back room. Rows of shelves covered the walls; however, they were all empty. The backroom was the same. All the tabletops and shelves were bare. Everything was on the floor, from pots, knives, paper, and of course bottles and vials. Additionally, not one glass container remained intact. Glass covered the floor along with dried residues and stains.

“It looks like this place was ransacked,” Scrimmancer said, looking at the scene from the middle of the back room. “It’s too deliberate for a fight to have taken place here. It’s like someone purposely smashed everything to the floor.”

“Multiple people,” Heilong added. She was crouched examining the floor. “There’s lots of different-sized footprints left after they stepped in some red-colored potion. I can see at least six different print patterns.”

“A mob of people?” Infamous Biscuit suggested.

“Perhaps.”

Freya sighed, “An angry mob would make sense. Maybe they figured out what a terrible job the shamans were doing. Still, they ruined a lot of good potions and tools.”

“Mobs don’t think about those kinds of things,” Infamous Biscuit said solemnly.

Biting her lip, Freya picked up a piece of paper from the floor. Water stains covered it, but it was just barely legible. 

{Patient Name: Jora Umid}

{Age: 31} {Sex: Female}

{Reason for visit: Pain and swelling in left hand}

{Diagnosis: Spider bite. Upon inspection of patient’s left hand, two small marks were found. Other than swelling around the immediate area, no other signs of allergic reaction were noted.}

{Treatment: Pain relievers, monitor swelling}

Many other similar records were scattered about the floor. Freya crouched down to read more of them.

I wonder if Aziza’s record is here, Freya thought. The little girl’s spirit had mentioned a Shaman Ghira. It’s impressive that they wrote all these records. I guess it would be helpful since they were dealing with so many people. 

Since Safka was such a small town, Freya never bothered to keep medical records for people. It was easy for her to remember everyone and their ailments. She only recorded the potions she made to keep track of their potency. She worked in a larger city during her apprenticeship, but her shaman master only kept a simple logbook. He never had records as complex as this.

As she searched through the papers, a door creaked in the background, followed by an “Oh my god.”

Scrimmancer backed out the room he had entered, holding a hand over his mouth. A moment later, when Infamous Biscuit came over to see, he had the exact same reaction.

“Holy shit, that’s, that’s a person, right?!”

Freya came over apprehensively. She peered into the smaller room. Fading sunlight streamed through a window to highlight a body on the floor.

Dried blood covered the room. Splattered all over the walls, smeared across the floor, and pooled directly underneath the corpse. Ripped clothes partially covered the body. The clothes were the only indication to Freya that this was a human body. The bad state of decomposition and the obvious trauma before their death made the corpse otherwise impossible to identify.

“Did demons break into here?” Freya said shakily. That’s the only explanation, right? Demons did this. Only they would be capable of this. 

But as she looked away from the body, she saw something that refuted that assumption. Next the corpse, scrawled in the blood from the body was written: TRAITOR