The River of Clifstat.
The River of Clifstat ran along the north-south stretch of Betyl, its waters eventually feeding into the Bonnie Blue Ocean to the east.
Euphor moved quietly along its edge, his steps measured and cautious. He wore an orange coat and a face mask, keeping his identity hidden as much as possible.
His destination was another town within Betyl, Hanger Town, a place closer to the Bonnie Blue Ocean and far easier to escape from by sea.
But he knew the risks.
The Hanged Associate had influence there, acting as both sheriffs and vigilantes, they controlled much of the area. And with his betrayal of the Moses Family, Euphor was certain of one thing, a very large bounty should already be on his head.
Fortunately, he had prepared in advance.
He had informed a trusted colleague, and a small sailboat had been arranged for him.
As he stepped aboard, a faint smile appeared beneath his mask.
Turning back, he glanced at the distant forest, his eyes narrowing.
"A lot of people are going to die in this capital…" he murmured. Then, almost dismissively, he added.
"Thank the heavens I'm not one of them."
With that, the sailboat drifted away, cutting across the quiet waters of the Clifstat River.
...
Lamenti, Moonlight Watchers Faculty.
Night had fully taken over.
The pale moon hung high in the sky, contrasting softly against a spread of glittering stars. Under its light, Lumian walked steadily along the road, a black bag slung over his shoulder.
The streets of Lamenti were calm, though not entirely silent. A few people still lingered, their footsteps faint against the quiet night.
Lumian didn't pay them much attention.
His destination was clear—Blackhead, Harper Cemetery.
From what he had learned, a Spirit Dance required a place rich in spiritual activity… and there was no place more suitable than a graveyard, where wandering spirits were most likely to gather.
...
After some time, Lumian finally arrived at the graveyard.
Rows upon rows of tombstones stretched across the green grass, standing beneath tall, silent trees that swayed gently in the night breeze.
He paused for a moment, taking it all in, then he slowly stepped forward, with his hands trembling slightly.
To be honest, Lumian didn't quite know how to feel. There was a quiet excitement within him, he was about to complete his law, to finally advance without hesitation. Yet at the same time, a heavy weight pressed against his chest.
He knew that any steps made wrong would bring disastrous consequences.
He took a slow breath, forcing himself to calm down.
As he walked deeper in, his gaze drifted unconsciously toward a familiar spot.
It was his parents' tombstone, and not far from it was also the tombstone belonging to Mr. Richard.
Lumian's expression softened, his steps slowing, his thoughts turning solemn.
For a brief moment, he simply stood there.
Then, without another word, he bent down and opened his bag, taking out the candles.
...
When he finished taking out the candles, Lumian carefully placed them around himself—one in front, one behind, and two at his sides, forming a square that enclosed him within.
He exhaled slowly.
From his pocket, he brought out his Seeking Charm.
Holding it lightly, he steadied his breathing before activating it. With a small motion, he released its contents into the air. The fine particles lingered, suspended for a brief moment, as though the space itself had grown heavier.
With that, he began to recite, his voice low and steady:
"What I seek…"
"The details of those within…"
"Their mood…"
Immediately his eyes turned ghostly white, while at it, he activated his mystic eyes.
Within his vision, faint blue silhouettes drifted through the graveyard—countless figures, moving slowly and aimlessly.
After a few seconds, the suspended particles began to fall, scattering softly onto the ground.
Lumian lowered his hand, slipping the charm back into his pocket.
Then, without hesitation, he struck a flame and lit the candles one by one.
Tak! Tak! Tak!
The sharp rhythm echoed through the graveyard.
Finishing the setup, Lumian breathed softly and took three steps to his right and then to his left, remembering all the things written in the text. With his rhythmic steps, Lumian began to recite an incantation.
"Bare feet on cold stone,
the drum begins low,
a heartbeat borrowed from the earth."
"Arms rise like smoke.
Eyes close to the world
and open to what waits beneath."
As soon as he said those words, the atmosphere around him immediately erupted with a silent boom. The air grew colder in an instant, and the wind began to move wildly.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
In contrast to the howling winds and chill, Lumian felt his head spinning and spinning, as though he himself were a moving fan. Yet he stood firm and continued the Spirit Dance, his rhythm perfect, synchronizing with a quiet, unseen beat.
But in the very next instant, a sharp pain erupted in his head, so intense it felt akin to his skull cracking open, as though his brain was being torn apart. Even then, he did not waver and continued dancing.
However, in another instant, while still moving in rhythm, Lumian suddenly began to experience the memories of the wandering ghosts.
One by one, each memory flashed through his mind—some filled with regret, others with happiness: shared meals, birthdays, marriages, and special moments.
Lumian, on the other hand, felt like he was losing his mind. The candlelights by his side flickered strangely before slowly turning blue.
F**k… f**k… f**k…
He cursed relentlessly inwardly, forcing himself to stay sane and continue the ritual.
At that moment, Lumian began to laugh, then cry, then frown, his expressions shifting in contrast to the memories flooding him. Yet amidst it all, he let out a cry of his own, unable to fully suppress the overwhelming pain.
...
Whoosh! Whoosh! Swoo!
Quickly, as the chill circulated around him, the blue flames condensed and rose upward, then instantly transformed into blue and red glittering stars that seemed to cover Lumian.
Almost immediately, Lumian opened his eyes and found himself floating in a grayish-white space, something that could be compared to heaven.
He was baffled. For a moment, he thought he had failed—that he had been taken to what legends called the Skywalker's Palace.
Looking ahead, he saw his mother and father, sitting together and eating dinner.
His eyes instantly became watery.
"Mum… Dad…"
In the image, Lumian could see a slightly tall figure and a shorter figure running toward a table before sitting down. The shorter figure, with short hair, immediately began devouring the food, drawing his mother's attention.
"Now, Lumian, don't go eating my table too."
The taller figure smiled.
Just as suddenly, the scene shifted. The setup dissolved, and the space turned dark, filled with glittering stars.
Through the fog, Lumian's mother appeared.
Wait… is that Mum, or is the dance trying to stop me?
Lumian remained cautious as he watched the figure approach. But what could he do in a place that wasn't his?
After a few moments, his mother—with a mature face—stepped forward and gently stroked his cheek.
"My son."
"Mum…" Lumian replied softly, tears welling in his eyes.
She wiped his tears away with a gentle, genuine smile.
"Everything's going to be alright. I don't have much time.
"I know you're going through a lot, and I've seen the situation with you, Kelvin and Laura. I know everything that's going on. But you have to remember the divine statement you made before: 'Never lose to grief and always hold on to hope.' "
As she spoke, his mother's eyes also became watery, and the scene around them began to shatter.
...
In the real world, Lumian was still moving in rhythmic steps.
Quickly, he steadied himself and recited the final stanza of the incantation:
Step, turn, breathe—
the veil grows thin.
Shadows unhook from their corners
and sway to a music only bones remember.
I am not here,
I am not gone.
I am the space where wind takes form,
the pause between a prayer and its answer.
Let the living watch.
Let the dead come close.
Tonight, we share the same dance floor—
just for one song,
just until dawn.
...
Almost instantly, Lumian felt a tingling sensation, as though he had fused with something. At the same time, he heard the sound of wind—like a vacuum brushing past his ears.
In the next instant, a gust of wind blew.
Whoosh!
The candles, which had been burning blue, immediately returned to their original color.
At that moment, Lumian had successfully completed the Spirit Dance and was ready to move to the next phase.
He collapsed onto the grass and let out a soft sigh.
Phew…
He looked around, and suddenly, he remembered.
... Never lose to grief and always hold on to hope.
Mum… Could it be that she had been a wandering spirit? That she helped me when i was on the verge of giving up… and in that brief moment, used my body to complete the dance?
Does that mean… she's completely gone now…?
Lumian thought inwardly, a hint of sadness surfacing in his chest.
Or… could her regret have been not staying with us longer?
He lay there for a moment longer before slowly standing up.
He walked around, picking up the candles one by one, his thoughts drifting.
What I've learned as a Diviner is that wandering ghosts can enter humans… but in that brief moment, they also risk disappearing.
Using that understanding, he came to a conclusion.
That was exactly what his mother had done.
If not for her interference, Lumian would have given up and failed the dance.
Letting out another sigh, he arranged the candles in his bag, zipped it up, and stood once more.
Then, quickly, he took of, aiming for the Magician recipe.