Sunlight filtered through the cool breeze, accompanied only by the chirping of insects and distant bird calls. At the iron gate of the suburban cemetery, Nimrod and George's figures gradually solidified from their ethereal forms as they emerged from the spirit world.
Seeing George's dazed expression, Nimrod released his grip on the man's hand and smiled. "In terms of travel, that was quite fast, wasn't it?"
The paper bag containing bread slipped from George's trembling hands, hitting the ground with a soft thud. Terror filled his face as he stammered, "Sir, what exactly happened just now? What were those things?"
The sights he had witnessed completely shattered George's understanding of the world. Those colorful, abstract oil painting-like realms and oddly-shaped, terrifying creatures struck his heart like hammers.
"Mysticism," Nimrod said with a shake of his head. "Even if I explained it, you wouldn't understand. For you, ignorance might be a blessing." He paused thoughtfully. "You can think of me as one of those superpowered people from novels."
"Superpowered people?" George's excitement cut through his fear. "I know about them! The comics and novels from Intis feature many such individuals—some breathe fire, others have steel bodies that even steam rifles can't penetrate, some control wild winds, and others move objects with their minds. I always thought they were fictional until I met you, sir. They really exist!"
His eyes lit up further. "Do you know Batman and Iron Man, sir? I really admire them—they were my childhood heroes."
At the mention of Batman and Iron Man, Nimrod smiled awkwardly, an image flashing in his mind of a handsome, dashing middle-aged man with chestnut curls dressed as a consul, grinning and saying, "That's right, it's me again!"
"Their author—that would be Emperor Roselle, wouldn't it?"
"Sir, do you also enjoy these superheroes created by Emperor Roselle?"
"Well, in a way. I'm particularly fond of their female companions."
In the desolate northwest corner of Cecil Cemetery, they stood before an old tombstone. George clutched an iron shovel retrieved from the abandoned groundskeeper's hut, staring at the patch of earth that differed from the surrounding soil—covered with flowers and weeds.
"Sir, must we really do this?" George asked hesitantly. "Won't this desecrate Winona and the child's souls?"
Seeing George's pained expression as he gripped the shovel uncertainly, Nimrod glanced at him and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry. Once a person dies, unless they encounter extraordinary circumstances or are influenced by special forces, they don't linger in the real world for long. Their souls return to the underworld—a realm within that special world we just visited. If the deceased was a devout believer, their soul might journey to their deity's divine kingdom instead."
Nimrod paused, seeming to recall something. "What faith do you and your wife follow?"
"We both worship the Evernight Goddess," George replied, then instinctively began his prayer ritual. "Praise You, You are more sublime than the starry sky, more eternal than eternity, Evernight Goddess; You are crimson—"
"Stop!" Nimrod's eye twitched as he cursed and immediately interrupted George. "Don't recite honorific names here! Just dig. After we resolve the nightmare plaguing you, I have other tasks for you."
"Yes, sir."
George nodded, took a deep breath, and began digging vigorously with the iron shovel.
An hour later, the soil was finally cleared, revealing a coffin constructed from roughly nailed wooden boards. A thick, putrid stench emanated from within, causing George to retch immediately.
Frowning at the overwhelming odor, Nimrod conjured a gust of wind mixed with light rain from thin air. The breeze swept through the surrounding woods, dispersing the stench—an ability inherited from the Magician path. As an angel of the Apprentice pathway, Nimrod's magical abilities had undergone qualitative transformation.
He could now raise great fog, stir gale winds, create lightning flashes, form electrical storms, and control flames and frost within a considerable region. While uncertain of his exact range limits, he estimated it wouldn't exceed five kilometers. After all, he wasn't an angel with weather-controlling authority.
To truly obtain such power, he would need to copy abilities from angels like "Weather Warlock" and "Natural Disaster" who could influence weather and ecology on a massive scale.
Using invisible hands to lift both George and the coffin, Nimrod looked at the middle-aged man's anguished expression and sighed softly. "This is your wife, after all. You should be the one to open it."
"Very well," George replied chokingly, silently inserting the iron shovel into the coffin's gap.
With minimal pressure, the flimsy coffin board held together by thin nails lifted open, revealing two corpses rotted beyond recognition. An even more intense stench immediately assaulted their senses.
Another gust of wind dispersed the overwhelming odor. Nimrod's left hand gestured, activating invisible hands that extracted a green transparent gemstone from the coffin and brought it to his palm.
Examining the deteriorated coffin, he smiled at George. "The most crucial part of the problem has been resolved. Their assistance is no longer needed. Rebury them." He paused. "Given how recently they died, the bodies have decomposed extensively—clearly, the coffin materials were of poor quality."
"I had no money," George said, tears filling his eyes as he gazed at the damaged coffin containing the rotted remains. "I could only bury them and obtain this coffin thanks to the charitable foundation established by Lord Deville."
"Lord Deville? The locally famous benefactor?" Nimrod laughed strangely and adjusted his monocle. "Well, I'll help you properly. What kind of coffin would you prefer? I'll provide it free of charge. Don't refuse—you should recognize this green gemstone's extraordinary nature, shouldn't you?"
He held up the stone. "Without exaggeration, its value could purchase a three-story villa in Tingen's city district. Afterward, I'll additionally compensate you 2,600 pounds. This arrangement is quite reasonable."
"This thing is actually so valuable?" George stared in disbelief. "I had no idea."
"Clearly, you don't understand what this object is actually used for. That ignorance is probably for the best—if you had known, this tragedy might never have occurred. I suspect your wife and son died because of it."
After examining the green gemstone, Nimrod pocketed it and asked with curiosity, "Can you tell me how you acquired it?"