Chapter 325: Asphyxiation

Diary of a Dead Wizard

Saul slowly shifted his gaze, finally settling it on the center of the first-floor hall.

"Is that it?"

Sander turned around—and froze in place.

"Y-Yes, that's my box. But… why? I clearly just walked past there a moment ago."

As he spoke, he strode over to the box, running his hands up and down it, and finally even hugged it tightly in his arms.

Saul was also a bit puzzled.

That box definitely wasn’t there when he entered!

And just now, after inspecting everything thoroughly, he hadn’t found any hidden compartments in the floor, nor had he detected any kind of paranormal presence.

So how had that box suddenly appeared?

Was it the box itself that was unusual, or was there something about this house that he hadn’t noticed?

Thinking about how this house had once been occupied by an apprentice expelled from the Wizard Tower—and knowing that apprentices under thirty who fail to reach the Third Rank often mutate—Saul leaned more toward the idea that something was wrong with the house.

But when he activated his meditation technique once again, the house still appeared completely clean.

What wasn't clean, however, was that half-human-height vine-woven box.

Ominous gray mist seeped from within, eventually merging with the arm wrapped around Sander’s neck.

But what surprised Saul was that the gray mist deliberately avoided Sander’s body, merely swirling around him.

Almost as if it were afraid of hurting him.

Having confirmed that the gray mist was a kind of corpse’s resentment, Saul raised an eyebrow.

"Doesn’t seem like it’s a murder-and-hide-the-body situation like I first thought."

He’d originally planned to have Sander sign an agreement, then send him off with this dangerous vine box.

Even if the guy turned out to be a freak who carried corpses around with him, Saul didn’t intend to interfere. After all, the arm might even get revenge on Saul’s behalf.

But now it seemed the corpse’s death had more to it than met the eye.

A down-and-out man, dragging a corpse around. Even after losing it, he repeatedly came back to this fear-inducing "haunted house" to retrieve it.

A resentful wraith, tightly clinging to the man before him—yet cautiously keeping its aura from harming him.

What exactly was the relationship between Sander and the corpse in the box—or rather, the owner of the arm wrapped around his neck?

Saul suddenly felt a flicker of interest.

He placed a hand on the stair railing and slowly walked down.

"What’s your relationship with the person in the box?"

Sander, who had been holding the box tenderly, went rigid. He turned and looked at Saul, who was now standing before him. His lips moved as if to speak, but in the end, he simply lowered his head, defeated.

"So you saw through it after all, my lord."

He reached out with trembling hands, placing them on the straps tightly binding the box, slowly unfastening them.

Then he carefully laid the box flat and unclasped the brass buckles.

He took a deep breath—and suddenly flung the lid open.

Saul calmly looked inside.

As expected, it was a girl’s corpse.

She appeared to be around twelve or thirteen, curled up in the fetal position with her arms around her knees, lying on her side inside the box. Her face wasn’t particularly beautiful, but if she were alive, she might’ve been called cute.

She wore a light pink dress, now somewhat yellowed and faded, and had a tiny golden hairclip in her hair.

She looked like someone who had only recently died.

The only unusual thing was that there wasn’t a single wound on her body—nor any sign of decomposition.

Saul’s eyes settled on that golden hairclip.

Just like its owner, the clip looked brand new, untouched by time.

"Must be this enchanted item that’s kept her body from decaying."

Saul crouched down and studied it closely, finding that the patterns on the hairclip were indeed arcane symbols—though written in a runic script he didn’t recognize.

Seeing that Saul made no move to touch the corpse, Sander’s tense shoulders slowly relaxed.

And then, he began to recount his story with the girl.

In truth, the story was simple—and all too common.

To stop his debt-ridden stepmother from selling his sister to some old man as a plaything, Sander, as her brother, fled with her in the night. But that old man was wealthy and influential—and even had a wizard in his employ.

For some reason, he pursued Sander and his sister relentlessly, spending large sums and manpower to track them down.

Young men and women traveling together attracted attention, so Sander had specially bought this big vine box for his sister to hide inside.

With that clumsy method, they managed to evade several inspections.

Everything had gone smoothly—until the day they took a boat across the bay, arriving at the estuary of the eastern continent known as Bluewater Bay.

As he was getting off the boat, he’d heard a thump from inside the box. But since his sister had stowed away without a ticket, he didn’t dare open it in front of the sailors, who were chatting and laughing nearby. He simply tapped the box to quiet her.

And the box had quickly gone quiet.

Sander had assumed that the sound was just her shifting position to get comfortable.

But when he hurriedly disembarked and found a secluded spot to open the box, he found his sister curled up inside, motionless—without heartbeat or breath… her body already stiff.

Even though many years had passed, a single tear still rolled down Sander’s cheek as he spoke.

It fell silently from the corner of his eye, trailing across his timeworn skin and landing on the open collar of his faded yellow shirt.

He wiped it away with practiced ease, then dried his hand on his pants before carefully closing the box again.

He straightened his sister’s dress and hair before shutting the lid, making sure nothing got caught.

"Forgive me for the unsightliness, my lord. This box may be worthless, but it holds the most precious thing I have."

He even managed a faint smile toward Saul.

Though he was doing his best to stay composed, Saul could still sense the immense grief that had been buried in him for so long.

Seeing that Saul showed no impatience, Sander couldn’t help but continue.

"Later, I kept thinking… if only I hadn’t tried to save that bit of money for her ticket. If I’d just opened the box then and there, would she still be alive?"

"I always thought the vine box was breathable enough… but maybe it was a little hot that day. There were too many people packed around me. Maybe she felt uncomfortable and wanted to adjust her posture—but remembered my warning, and held still anyway…"

Saul looked at the box, once again tightly wrapped.

"Then why do you still keep her in the box?"

"Mido likes it… Oh, Mido is my sister. Her name is Miska, but my mother and I always called her that. She doesn’t want to leave the box. Whenever I try to take her out, she cries."

"She cries?"

"Yes, my lord. I swear I’m not lying."

Saul rested his chin in his hand.

"Then pick her up for me. I want to see."

"This…" Sander clearly hesitated, but after a moment of internal struggle, he still opened the box.

He feared that if he didn’t do it, this wizard would do it himself.

Just as Sander had said—when he gently raised his sister’s head, a single tear seeped from the girl’s tightly shut eyes.

And as he lifted her shoulders, those tears fell like broken beads—rolling one after another.

"My lord?" Sander looked pleadingly at Saul, clearly unable to bear raising her any higher.

"Alright, I saw it. Put her back," Saul said, no longer pushing him. But just as Sander laid her down again, Saul added,

"Your sister did not die of asphyxiation. She was killed by a wraith."

(End of Chapter)