The lizardman studied the dried blood staining the cobblestones for several long moments.
Then he gave a single nod.
"...Alright."
His yellow eyes shifted toward the bespectacled mage.
"Lindor."
The mage responded immediately.
"Right."
He lowered his satchel onto the ground and unclasped the worn leather flap.
After rummaging through its contents for a few moments—
he carefully withdrew a tightly rolled scroll.
Unlike an ordinary parchment—
its surface shimmered with intricate silver runes etched across its length.
Mana pulsed faintly beneath the glowing inscriptions, as though the scroll itself possessed a heartbeat.
A magic scroll.
The archer's eyes widened ever so slightly.
"...You're really going to use it?"
Lindor glanced at her before answering.
"It's the quickest method."
She frowned.
"That's a Third-Star magic scroll."
"It costs a fortune."
She hesitated.
"And there's no guarantee it'll even work."
Lindor gave a small nod.
"I know."
He slowly unrolled the scroll.
The instant it opened, the silver runes brightened.
"If the person we're trying to trace is too powerful..."
He studied the glowing script.
"...the spell could fail."
The human knight folded his arms.
"Exactly."
His gaze shifted toward the dried bloodstains.
"After everything that happened in Blackwater..."
"If finding him were this easy..."
"...wouldn't the Holy Empire have already done it?"
The kobold clicked his tongue.
"Oh, shut it."
He folded his own arms.
"If you're so convinced it won't work..."
"...then why did you even come?"
The knight shot him an irritated glare.
"I never said—"
"Enough."
The lizardman's deep voice cut cleanly through the argument.
Instant silence followed.
His gaze swept across each member of the party.
"We won't know unless we try."
No one objected.
Lindor stepped into the center of the alley.
The scroll rested in his left hand.
His staff in his right.
He took a slow, measured breath.
Then planted the end of the staff firmly against the cobblestones.
**THUNK.**
Mana flowed from his body in steady waves.
The silver runes covering the scroll began to glow brighter.
One after another.
Like stars awakening in the night.
The surrounding air stirred.
Tiny streams of mana gathered from every direction, flowing toward the parchment.
Lindor slowly closed his eyes.
His voice became calm.
Steady.
"...Let's see..."
"...whether this trail still remains."
He exhaled slowly.
Mana continued pouring from his body into the scroll.
The silver runes spread across the parchment one after another, each igniting in succession.
Their radiance intensified.
The alley fell unnaturally silent.
Even the evening breeze seemed to disappear.
The lizardman watched without blinking.
The knight instinctively rested a hand upon the hilt of his sword.
The kobold's ears stood straight upright.
The archer unconsciously tightened her grip on her bow.
Then—
the final rune ignited.
**WHOOM.**
A circular magic array unfolded beneath Lindor's feet.
Three concentric layers.
Each more intricate than the last.
Ancient symbols rotated slowly within one another.
The scroll crumbled apart.
Its parchment dissolved into countless motes of shimmering silver light.
The tiny lights drifted gently downward.
Toward the dried bloodstains.
The instant they touched the stone—
they stopped.
For a single heartbeat—
nothing happened.
Then—
the lights began moving.
Like tiny insects catching the scent of fresh prey.
The silver motes floated slowly out of the alley.
"...It's working."
The archer whispered.
Lindor frowned slightly.
"...Not yet."
The lights continued drifting forward.
Slowly.
Steadily.
The group followed.
They emerged from the alley and entered the busy streets.
Pedestrians glanced curiously at the floating lights before instinctively stepping aside.
The glowing trail wound through several narrow streets.
Past rows of market stalls.
Past a crowded inn.
Past the warm scent of a neighborhood bakery.
The kobold grinned.
"I told you."
"It found something."
The knight remained unconvinced.
"...Or it's simply following residual mana."
Lindor said nothing.
His full attention remained fixed on the spell.
The silver lights continued onward.
Then—
without warning—
they stopped.
Hovering motionlessly above the center of a busy intersection.
The group came to an immediate halt.
The archer looked around uneasily.
"...Why did it stop?"
Lindor's expression changed.
His eyes narrowed.
"...No."
The silver lights suddenly began spinning.
Slowly at first.
Then faster.
And faster still.
The runes within each mote flickered violently.
The surrounding mana became unstable.
Lindor's eyes widened.
"Back!"
Everyone reacted instantly.
They leaped away.
**BOOM!!**
The floating lights burst apart into harmless showers of silver sparks.
The remaining runes shattered like fragile glass.
The magic circle beneath Lindor's feet collapsed and vanished completely.
Silence.
The spell was gone.
Lindor stared at the empty air where it had disappeared.
"...It failed."
The knight sighed quietly.
"I figured it would."
Lindor slowly lowered his staff.
His brows remained tightly furrowed.
"...No."
The others looked toward him.
"That's not what concerns me."
His eyes remained fixed on the place where the spell had collapsed.
"A Third-Star tracking spell shouldn't fail like that."
The kobold frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Lindor remained silent for a moment before answering.
"It didn't lose the trail."
He paused.
His voice dropped.
"...Something erased it."
The words lingered heavily in the air.
The archer felt a chill run down her spine.
"...Erased?"
Lindor nodded slowly.
"As though the trail simply..."
"...ceased to exist."
He looked down the road where the silver lights had been guiding them only moments before.
"Either someone deliberately concealed it..."
"...or the individual we're tracking possesses abilities beyond what this spell is capable of perceiving."
Silence settled over the group once more.
Even the knight's skeptical expression had disappeared.
The lizardman finally broke the silence.
"...Either way."
His sharp yellow eyes remained fixed on the road ahead.
"We've confirmed one thing."
The others turned toward him.
"He was here."
No one argued.
Because despite the spell's failure—
it had led them this far.
And for seasoned adventurers...
Sometimes even a failed spell was enough to prove they were pursuing the right prey.