Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
Lumian had woken up unusually early and arrived at the Moonlight Watchers Faculty around six in the morning.
The crimson sun had not yet risen fully, lingering behind thick clouds, its faint glow stretching across the ocean, rooftops, and damp streets.
He glanced toward the usual table.
Lury wasn't there.
Seems like she took my advice… hehe, Lumian thought inwardly as he stepped into the dim faculty building.
Using one of his keys—something all sorcerers possessed, he unlocked the door, switched on the lights, and made his way deeper inside.
Without hesitation, he headed straight for the library.
He had come to the library for one reason, to learn the rules of the Spirit Dance.
Reaching the door, he silently prayed to Skywalker that he had the right key.
One by one, he tested them, then suddenly his eyes lit up as he found it.
Without delay, he slid the key into the lock and turned it smoothly, pushing the door open.
When he did, the once feeling of pride and accomplishment suddenly disseapeared.
Because before him, were towering shelves stretched out, rows upon rows filled with countless books.
I didn't expect this situation, how am I even going to find it.
...
But Lumian wasn't one to back down. He walked over to Madison's table and brought out her notes, flipping through them carefully. After some time, his eyes suddenly paused as he found what he was looking for.
Bingo! he said inwardly, a hint of excitement rising within him as he made his way toward one of the aisles.
Reaching out, he pulled a book from the shelf, but just as he did, a strange feeling passed through him. Almost unconsciously, he began to hum softly:
"Sit still. Breathe slow. Let the noise fall away. Feel the space between your skin and the air… that's where I'll meet you."
He suddenly paused.
Wait… how do I know that?
A look of confusion crossed his face as his thoughts raced.
Could this be the spell? So I was right… it really is like a game downloading new content.
Without wasting time, Lumian extended his hand. Through his Mystic Eyes, he saw a dense layer of white spirituality effervescing around it. Focusing, he breathed softly, and gradually, the spirituality began to settle before fading away.
He raised his brows.
This was exactly what Mr. Hayes had said—he could increase and suppress his spirituality at will. However, he could tell that his control wasn't perfect yet. It felt unstable, like something he had just begun to grasp.
I'll figure that out later…
Pushing the thought aside, he turned his attention back to the book and went to take a seat.
From the text, Lumian learned that performing a Spirit Dance required a place with strong spiritual fluctuations. It wasn't something one could do casually—it resembled a ritual, involving candles, incantations, and precise steps. More importantly, it warned that if done incorrectly, the consequences could be severe.
After reading for some time, Lumian finally closed the book and sat upright. He returned it to its place, then carefully put Madison's notes back exactly where he had found them. With that done, he left the library, locking the door behind him.
He had just begun to head toward the stairs when he suddenly paused.
A thought struck him.
Without hesitation, he turned and walked outside.
After some distance, he stopped beneath a streetlight, its glow still faintly visible despite the morning light.
He had seen this place before, precisely in a dream!
Could it be… when I was trying to get answers yesterday—running through different scenarios, one of them finally connected? And as a Diviner… I received the answer later?
He recalled the dream clearly now.
There had been a calendar, on it was the date of March 30th.
And around this very area… people had gathered, their faces filled with wide smiles, laughter echoing in the air.
So the incident on March 30th… will happen here, and it happens during a moment of joy…
Turning slightly, he looked to his left.
There, on the sidewalk, stood a space he recognized. A house that had once been there had recently been demolished, leaving behind an open area, signaling the arrival of a big event!
A wedding? A birthday? A naming ceremony? What kind of event gathers this many people… and ends in disaster?
...
And there's no way I can ask anyone… no one's even here, Lumian thought inwardly with a quiet sigh.
The idea of performing the Spirit Dance right then and there crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. From what he had read, and from his own understanding, freely interacting with spirits, especially wandering or attentive ghosts, was something best done at night.
Turning back, he made his way toward the faculty. The streets were calm and silent, carrying that early-morning stillness before the day truly began.
Just as he reached the entrance, he spotted a figure running along the street.
"Morning paper! Fresh sales of the Arclif Article!"
Lumian's interest was immediately piqued. Given everything happening in Betyl, he couldn't ignore it.
He called out to the boy, paid, and took a copy of the newspaper.
Walking over to a nearby couch, he sat down and began to read.
...
Arclif Article – Morning Edition
The newly appointed Duke of Betyl, Higilar Eugene, has introduced a series of sweeping changes since assuming office.
Among his first actions was the suspension of multiple railway construction projects, including the recently initiated line to Montmartre Heights. In addition, several key sea routes have been temporarily sealed.
Despite these abrupt decisions, reports indicate that the Duke has redirected the allocated funds toward agricultural development and the construction of new educational institutions. Officials suggest this shift aims to stabilize the region's long-term economic foundation.
In other news, the former Chancellor of the Exchequer has been confirmed dead, just one week after stepping down from his position.
Initial investigations have ruled out suicide. Authorities have yet to release further details regarding the circumstances of his death.
May God bless his soul.
...
…The Chancellor is dead… Lumian said Inwardly as he gazed at the page. And he really tried for Betyl, but why resign suddenly only to die a week later... what exactly is going on in Betyl.
Closing his eyes briefly, Lumian let out a quiet sigh before turning the page and continuing to read.
Special Notice – Currency Regulation.
Take note: As of today, the use of pounds has been officially declared illegal.
Any banks or individuals found in possession or circulation of the currency may face arrest and investigation.
As previously announced, the newly introduced currency—the euro—will now serve as the sole legal tender within Betyl. The pound, once widely favored since the late 1900s, is now being phased out entirely.
Current conversion rates have been standardized:
1 pound = 8 euros.
A small apartment previously priced at 180 pounds will now be valued at approximately 1,440 euros.
A large house priced at 2,000 pounds will now be valued at approximately 16,000 euros.
In addition, coin values have dropped significantly, with a recorded decrease of approximately 45%, reducing their practical purchasing power.
...
Lumian chuckled to himself. Heh… thank Skywalker I don't really use pounds. I mostly do transfers, though, to be honest, I still have some on me, which use to be for transportation, what am I supposed to do with that now?
Just then, Vincent, green-eyed, with messy black hair, walked into the faculty, letting out a yawn.
"Good morning, Lumian. What a surprise seeing you here this early. What happened?"
Lumian smiled lightly, dropping the newspaper onto the table. "Same goes for you. Don't you usually come around nine?"
Vincent nodded casually. "Yeah, but the captain told me to come early today. Said I should inspect the faculty, make sure everything's in order."
"Why? Lury already checked everything yesterday."
"The captain wants to be thorough," Vincent replied with a shrug. "Apparently, someone important is coming."
"Who?" Lumian asked as his curiosity was immediately piqued.
Vincent had already begun heading toward the stairs. "One of the sorcerers stationed at Montmartre Heights," he said. "From the Celestial Brigade."
He paused briefly before adding,
"James Carrick."
...
James Carrick… The same James Carrick? One of the highest-known sorcerers… a Phase 6, just like Mrs. Hathway… Lumian's thoughts stirred as he looked at Vincent.
"But why is he coming?"
Vincent raised his brows slightly, still looking a bit drowsy.
"I don't really know," he replied. "Heh… how would I? But I heard he's been in Betyl for the past two weeks."
Two weeks… Lumian echoed the words inwardly, his expression growing more thoughtful.
What does he want…?
Letting out a quiet sigh, he turned to Vincent and stood up.
"Alright," he said, "let me help in any way I can."
Vincent chuckled as he began heading up the stairs. "Why? Trying to get stronger and sharper for the ladies?"
Lumian followed behind, shaking his head. "You're not serious… unless you've got a girl to introduce me to."
"Heh, nice comeback," Vincent said with a smile.
...
Montmartre Heights, Gracious Estate.
Woo! Woo!
The sharp wail of police sirens echoed through the estate.
Unlike Betyl, Montmartre was deep into the afternoon. The crimson sun hung high in the sky, its heat pressing down on the streets and buildings.
Police officers in blue uniforms moved about the area, alongside several sorcerers. The large house ahead had been sealed off with tape, with people constantly going in and out.
Nearby, Benson stood beside a patrol car, finishing a brief exchange with an officer. After a few moments, the man nodded and walked away.
Benson let out a slow sigh.
Another body…
He ran a hand through his hair, his gaze fixed on the building. And this time… shaped into another 'A'.
I don't understand anymore… what kind of message is this killer trying to send?
Leaning back against the police car, he fell into thought. First an 'A'… then a 'B'… and now another 'A'
A… B… A…
Aba…
Wait that word, isn't it Montmartre, Aba, yes it's Montmartre, its says that chaos is coming. But how, how can chaos be coming.
Let me think, let me think, first one body was in Montmartre, today making it two, while one was in Betyl. Could it be that the two In Montmartre were simply just for awareness, while one In Betyl was a warning.
If that's the case Betyl is the real target. Yes, someone dangerous from Montmartre is inside Betyl!