Re:Crafting in Another World
Chapter 37: Sir Maron’s Investigation

Chapter 37: Sir Maron’s Investigation

Sir Maron sat in his office, his eyes scanning the stack of reports in front of him. His hands trembled slightly, not with fear, but with rage. The guards standing before him swallowed nervously, glancing at one another as sweat beaded on their foreheads.

"Are you taking bribes?" Maron’s voice was cold, sharp as a blade.

"N-No, sir!" one of the guards stammered. "We would never—"

Maron slammed his fist on the table, making the papers jump. "Then explain this!" He held up a document, his glare fixed on them. "Names are missing! People have entered the barony without proper merchant guild documentation!"

The guards paled, their denials dying in their throats. One by one, their heads lowered. Finally, one of them whispered, "We... we allowed some merchants in. They paid a small fee to avoid the lengthy process. We didn’t think it was a big deal."

Maron narrowed his eyes. "It is a crime, you absolute fools." he said. "But that is not the reason I called you here." He reached for another paper, a drawing of a young man with dark hair, striking features, and an air of nobility beyond his years. "What about this boy?"

The guards leaned in to look, confusion evident on their faces. They exchanged glances before shaking their heads. "We’ve never seen him before, Sir Maron."

Maron’s patience thinned. "Think carefully. If you are lying, you will receive the harshest punishment I can give. I will make sure you get the death penalty for your crimes."

Maron knew that, according to the law of the Principality, the death penalty for simple bribery was not possible, but he had to use some threats to obtain accurate information. He knew that, in the face of death, most people became vulnerable.

One of the guards, barely holding back a whimper, stuttered, "W-We swear, Sir! We don’t know him!"

Clicking his tongue in frustration, Maron straightened and waved a hand. "Enough. Arrest them. Take them to the jail."

His unit moved swiftly, clamping shackles on the trembling guards and dragging them away. As the heavy doors closed behind them, Maron leaned back, rubbing his temple. "If the guards didn’t let him in, then how did he enter?"

He tapped his fingers against the table, his mind racing. There were other ways into the barony, of course—hidding in barrels, bribed servants or some special connection to nobility. But the real question was—why? Why would someone sneak in only to be hired by the Baroness almost immediately?

Is this something he shouldn’t investigate? Is this something private related to baron’s family? Maron was confused.

His mind drifted back to the first time he saw the boy.

It had been inside the Baron’s mansion, an unexpected sight. The moment he laid eyes on him, he knew something was off. No ordinary village boy carried himself with that kind of poise. And no commoner had eyes like that—piercing, knowing, as if he were studying Maron rather than the other way around.

At the time, Maron had been investigating the strange deaths of a group of adventurers found in a back alley. The trail had led him to Josie’s Tavern, where the locals spoke highly of a certain young man working there.

"Ah, you mean Shennong?" one of the tavern visitng girls had giggled. "Prince of serving we call him. If he was nobility, I wouldn’t even be surprised...I wonder why he left us? Did he go back to his hometown which he was always boasting about?"

That name. Maron had kept it in his mind as he followed the clues, only to be blindsided when he saw the same boy in the Baron’s mansion.

That was when he first spoke to him.

"You," Maron had said, stepping forward. "What is your name?"

The young man had looked up from his task, calm, unreadable. "Shennong."

"And how did you come to work here?"

Shennong tilted his head slightly, as if considering his words carefully. "I was hired by Lady Cassandra."

"So easily?" Maron had narrowed his eyes. "A village boy with no history suddenly working under the Baroness?"

Shennong had smiled faintly—a polite but distant expression. "Does that bother you, Sir Maron? I proved my talent as a servant to her, and she was impressed with my work. I truly believe hard work will always pay off, so I work here now."

It had. And even now, it did.

Maron’s fingers clenched into a fist. He had gathered enough evidence to arrest Shennong. He had entered the barony illegally, and that alone was reason enough.

But before he acted, there was one more thing he needed to confirm—

a hunch he had that was far more dangerous than anything to do with the simple murder of some adventurers.

So when the night was silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of the city. Maron, dressed in a simple dark coat and hood, kept his distance as he tailed Romina. She walked at a steady pace, completely unaware of her shadow.

Romina—who called herself Shennong’s sister. Maron frowned. They looked nothing alike. Shennong had sharp features, almost forgein like, with piercing emerald eyes. Romina, on the other hand, had softer, more human-like features that matched what people from Principality looked like.

They are lying about something.

Maron kept up his quiet pursuit as she arrived at Josie’s Tavern. He leaned against the outer wall, trying to listen in, but the lively chatter and clinking of mugs drowned out any useful conversation.

"Damn it," he muttered under his breath.

Time passed, and after a few hours, Romina finally left the tavern. She walked leisurely at first, but then—

Without warning, she bolted forward and took a sharp right turn into a dark alley.

Maron’s instincts screamed at him. Something wasn’t right.

He rushed forward, turning the same corner—but there was no one there.

His breath came slow and steady, his muscles tensing. The air around him shifted—silent, yet heavy with an unseen presence.

Then, the feeling of danger.

He felt his life was in danger and if he didn’t draw his sword, he would possibly loose his life.

Maron didn’t think. His hand shot to the hilt of his sword, unsheathing it in one fluid motion. CLANG! His blade met something mid-air, sparks flying as he deflected the sudden attack.

A grin spread across his lips. "My senses were right."

Something—no, someone—had attacked him. But in the darkness, he couldn’t make out their form. They were fast, moving around him with unnatural speed, circling, searching for an opening.

Maron took a deep breath. He closed his eyes, his heartbeat slowing. The world around him faded. His power activated—time itself seemed to stretch and slow.

It was not the power to control time but rather his focus that was impressive. Maron had learned from the best knight in the capital—the one whom many admired as the golden standard of talent and discipline. [Ultra Focus] was one of the skills he had learned from this maestro.

Then—

He slashed forward in a single, decisive strike.

A sharp gasp followed. A woman’s voice. The sound of footsteps staggering backward. Is this really a woman? Did she attack another woman?

Maron opened his eyes, his gaze dropping to his sword. A strange, different shade of red dripped from the blade.

Not human blood.

"Jackpot!" Maron felt a surge of satisfaction. He knew his hunch hadn’t been wrong.

He stepped forward, following the sound. But when he arrived, there was nothing there—only the blood remained.

This isn’t an ordinary monster, he realized. It’s intelligent enough to retreat when it knows it can’t win—unlike most of the mindless creatures I’ve been fending off to keep the villagers safe.

This wasn’t a dumb goblin or a mindless orc. This was something far more dangerous.

Maron gripped his sword tighter. Staying here alone was a mistake. He had no idea how many of these creatures were lurking in the darkness.

How dangerous they were or what kind of creatures they were. He needed to bring his men to hunt down this monsters, or possibly the devil that killed adventurers.

More importantly, he now knew one thing for sure—

Shennong was hiding something. And whatever it was, it was no longer just a simple case.

Maron’s eyes darkened. That bastard needs to be restrained immediately. Should I talk with baron? What if he knows about Shennong and hiding something?

Sir Maron wasn’t someone who had 100% trust in nobility. He only trusted the comrades he fought alongside. He knew following orders was something he had to do, but at the same time, the knight blood in him had always been searching for something worth fighting for, and now it was here.

He had waited so long since his service in the capital when he actually felt like a knight to face something like this again.

"No! I should contact the knight order! I need to finish these devils before they can come here... I want to impress him," Maron thought. It was childish for a man like him, in his thirties, to think about hogging all the glory for himself just to gain recognition, but it wasn’t strange, because who wouldn’t like to be called impressive by the person they admire?

Sir Maron wasn’t any different.