Lacey was still moving. He crawled weakly on the floor, his frame leaving traces of blood. His fingers were scrapping against the ground, as his lips twitched uncontrollably.
Lumian looked down at him and slowly shook his head, pity in his eyes.
He had taken this mission for the money… but deep down, he had genuinely wanted to bring Lacey back alive. Seeing him reduced to this state left a bitter taste in his chest.
A low growl escaped Lacey's lips, which could be "categorized" as the roar of the dead.
Suddenly—
Bang!
A gunshot rang out.
Vincent stood a short distance away, his pistol still raised. The bullet had pierced through the side of Lacey's head.
Truly heartless… Lumian thought inwardly.
Blood spilled out, staining Lacey's neck and the dark fabric of his robe. His body twitched uncontrollably, as his fingers convulsed, until he finally went still.
...
Lumian exhaled slowly, forcing his racing thoughts to quiet down.
Without looking back again, he jogged toward Rosanne.
Her black-and-green gown was slightly stained with dust and blood, yet she leaned casually against a cracked wall, observing the aftermath as though it were nothing more than mild entertainment.
"Rosanne, are you okay?" Lumian asked, offering a small smile as he approached.
She let out a soft sigh. "Of course I am."
After a brief pause, she glanced around at the ruined battlefield.
"But that fight was quite tough, hehe. That's why I don't usually go on these missions."
Lumian gave a small chuckle and then asked. "Are you feeling weak? Any fatigue? Dizziness? Backlash? Or do you need something?"
Hearing that, Rosanne suddenly puffed out her cheeks and pointed dramatically at her face.
"Yes," she said seriously. "I need something very important."
Lumian raised his brows slightly. "What is it, Lady Rosanne?"
She gasped theatrically before declaring, "I need you to carry me."
As soon as she opened her eyes, which were closed, Lumian was nowhere to be found.
He had already jogged away toward Hargreaves' position.
...
Approaching Hargreaves, Lumian immediately crouched beside him. "Captain, are you okay?"
Hargreaves nodded slowly, his breathing still uneven.
"Yes… but I'll need some rest. I used a lot of energy bringing out that curse."
Lumian brought his gaze down thoughtfully. So Night Crossers can seal things as dream elements… and reproduce them when needed. That's quite a terrifying ability.
Before he could think further, Vincent walked over. "Lumian, don't worry," he said calmly. "I'll send Hargreaves back."
He crouched down and lifted Hargreaves over his shoulder with practiced ease.
Vincent had visible injuries, his blue jacket torn in several places. His long black hair, now disheveled, brushed against his shoulders.
As he passed Lumian, he gave him a faint nod. "You did quite well, bro. I'll see you later at the faculty."
With that, he turned and walked away.
...
"Hmm~"
Berlie let out a soft hum as she stepped closer to Lumian. Her golden hair shimmered faintly in the fading light, and despite being shorter than him—barely reaching his shoulders—she carried herself confidently.
"We did quite well, didn't we?" she said with a smile.
"…We?" Lumian echoed playfully.
He knew she hadn't contributed much in direct combat, but outwardly he smiled and patted her shoulder lightly.
"Of course we did. Everyone played their part."
To the right, Sharley dusted off his hands and glanced at Lumian. "Tell Hargreaves my pay is forty pounds."
"No problem, Mr—"
"…Sharley," he corrected calmly, before walking away.
Lumian watched his retreating figure. The power of a Ravager is truly terrifying… he adapts like a madman. If that's the case… Ravagers are like ants—impossible to kill properly.
Shaking off the thought, Lumian walked back toward Rosanne. The three of them began walking together.
After a moment, Lumian spoke up. "I know you two might not have known about the Lacey case… but you do know he was Duke Joshua's illegitimate son, right?"
Berlie immediately interjected. "What are you saying? Of course I heard about it. It was huge gossip. Even officials were heading to the faculty to assist."
Lumian nodded. "I actually took the mission for the money. Remember when the wife placed a seven-hundred-pound bounty on his head?"
Rosanne suddenly stopped and elbowed him playfully. "Wait… you were actually motivated by the money?"
Lumian sighed dramatically. "Of course. You know my greedy nature, hehe. But I was still genuinely curious about finding him."
There was a brief silence before Lumian spoke again. "If we report this properly… and inform the mother about Lacey's state, do you think she'll still pay us?"
Berlie rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "She might. After all, we did find him… even if it's just his corpse. Oh! That reminds me—I was supposed to wait for the graveyarder to help transport the body."
The group slowed down.
"Alright," Lumian said. "We can wait."
Berlie continued, with a small smile. "She might pay… but since we're not official policemen, she might reconsider. Remember, we're only exorcists, with sorcerers profiles."
Lumian's mouth twitched. "So after all that effort… she might not pay?"
"Might," Rosanne corrected calmly.
Lumian rubbed his philtrum. "Leaving that aside… did you notice the St. Mary text disappeared again?"
...
"That might be the other person supporting Lacey," Berlie suggested. "Remember the Witches' Garden that was mentioned?"
Lumian nodded slowly. "Yes… that's possible," he thought inwardly. "But this entire situation felt planned. Even if we hadn't killed Lacey, we still wouldn't have gotten our hands on the St. Mary text. That means Selene probably knew I wasn't truly one of them… but Dorothy…"
Berlie suddenly chuckled, covering her mouth. "Lumian, I heard you cross-played as a woman and sneaked into one of their meetings. How did that go?"
Lumian forced a small, awkward smile.
"…Pretty well."
Seeing this, Berlie immediately burst into laughter.
Ignoring her teasing, Lumian scanned the surroundings before walking toward the collapsed doorway.
"What are you doing?" Rosanne called as she followed him.
"Nothing important," Lumian replied. "Just checking for anything… hidden."
He crouched beside the rubble and brushed aside broken wood and stone. Beneath it, he found a framed family portrait.
The image showed Lacey as a young boy—no older than twelve—standing beside a woman who gently stroked his head with a warm smile. Next to them sat Duke Joshua calmly reading a newspaper, as a smile was on his face.
Lumian fixated his gaze on it as he thought Inwardly.
If that was his family… why would he say the Witches' Garden treated him better?
Was he neglected? Abused? Ignored?
I really need to speak to the mother.
With that, he stood up slowly, at that moment through the drifting fog of the night, he noticed a figure approaching.
A tall man in a black trench coat, a shovel resting over his shoulder.
It was the graveyarder!
The man stepped calmly toward Lacey's corpse. He placed a single finger against the dead boy's forehead.
In the next instant, it blurred and vanished.
He turned toward Lumian. His hair was white, and his pale skin almost seemed drained of warmth.
"So," the graveyarder asked quietly, "where are we dropping this one?"
Lumian smiled faintly and stepped forward. "Let's go, sir. I'll show you the way."
And just like that, beneath the dim streetlamps and thinning fog, the group walked away.
...
Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
With the corpse now resting in the autopsy room and the group returned to their homes, Lumian remained in the quiet faculty.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
He climbed the stairs quickly, turning to the right and pushing Hargreaves' door open slightly.
"Captain," he said as he stepped inside. "How are you doing?"
With a cast over his right hand, Hargreaves replied weakly, "Still doing great. Aren't you supposed to be home by now?"
Lumian chuckled awkwardly. "I wanted to inform you about something first. He paused for a brief moment, before continuing. "Captain, when Berlie and I waited, I checked the house and found a family portrait." He pulled it from his black trousers and handed it over.
Hargreaves looked at it and nodded. "Yes… this is the family of Duke Joshua. What's wrong with that?"
Lumian seated himself near the fireplace. "Because… you did hear him say the Witches' Garden treated him better. Does that mean he was abused, then manipulated?"
Hargreaves nodded slowly. "It might be so, since Lacey isn't Duke Joshua's son."
Lumian frowned. "But who could have influenced him?"
He looked at Hargreaves who wore a puzzled expression, and continued. "You see," he said. "We should probably investigate that matter deeper, maybe going to their house the next day."
Hargreaves nodded slowly and said. "Yes, I think that should be wise. He rubbed his chin and continued with a smile. "Lumian, since you became a fully fledged church member, I've never regretted it. You're very capable."
Lumian smiled awkwardly. "It's all thanks to the two years of bounty hunter training, hehe."
He was about to leave when Hargreaves called him back. He poured a bottle of whiskey with his left hand, holding it steady as he handed a glass to Lumian.
Lumian inhaled the familiar scent and took a sip. They clicked glasses together and said in unison:
"Long reign the Skywalker!"
They chuckled, sharing a moment of idle conversation. After a while, Lumian stood and bid his captain farewell, walking downstairs and quietly making his way home.
...
Cornerstone, Number 21.
Lumian reached his front door, locking it behind him. He carried the key carefully, so as not to wake Laura and Kelvin.
He removed his shoes and stepped inside quietly, scanning the room for any signs of his "monster of a brother" (heh… a little joke to himself).
He climbed the stairs silently to his room. Checking the clock, he saw it was 4 AM.
Without hesitation, he fell onto the bed and immediately slipped into a deep, well-earned slumber.