Ron paused, momentarily taken aback by the question. He hadn't expected such a direct inquiry.
Then, gesturing to the massive coffin behind him, nearly as tall as himself, he replied in a matter-of-fact tone:
"Naturally, I'll collect his corpse and place it in the coffin after he dies. What else would I do? Eat it?"
"Just that?" Elaina's voice rose slightly at the end, a hint of incredulity in her tone.
"What else would I do?" Ron gave her an odd look. "Collecting corpses is basic necromancer etiquette."
Elaina shook her head. "You don't seem to know him either. Who knows what you might do with his corpse?"
Ron looked puzzled. "What else could I do with his corpse besides admire it? Is there something special about it?"
Elaina asked in disbelief, "Admire a corpse?"
Ron nodded.
The air seemed to freeze for a moment.
A gentle breeze stirred her ash-white hair, a few strands brushing across her pale cheek, softening the frown on her brow.
Her fingers, which had been gripping her wand tightly, unconsciously relaxed slightly, causing the magical glow at its tip to flicker with the subtle movement.
During her travels, she had encountered this dying old man. Faced with his final plea, Elaina's conscience, combined with the gold he offered, ultimately led her to break her own principle of "observe but don't interfere."
Her conscience hadn't sunk to the point where she would simply take the money and leave. Besides, it was a simple task.
Deliver the letter, return to inform him, and let the old man pass peacefully. It was that straightforward.
As a traveler accustomed to observing from the sidelines, Elaina knew she shouldn't meddle too deeply in others' fates. But she never hesitated to offer small acts of kindness.
For instance, finding a final resting place for a dying old man she had never met before.
With a wave of her wand, Elaina conjured a simple tombstone from the soft earth, ensuring the deceased received a final measure of dignity even in the wilderness. This had been her plan all along, a way to honor both her conscience and the gold she'd been paid. For a witch like her, such a task was effortless. Delivering the letter was a paid commission, but this burial was a heartfelt, selfless act. Elaina nearly moved herself to tears. 'What a kind and beautiful witch I am,' she thought.
But all this depended on one crucial condition: that the strange man before her didn't interfere. After death, everyone deserved a proper resting place, not to be left exposed in the wilderness or stuffed into some mysterious coffin by a stranger of dubious origins. Heaven knew what might happen next.
Elaina's sharp gaze swept over Ron and the massive coffin behind him, which seemed almost custom-made for him. This self-proclaimed necromancer had been unsettling from the start, and his earlier remark about "appreciating corpses" was downright shocking. The ominous title "necromancer" instantly conjured dark legends of forbidden magic and the desecration of the dead in Elaina's mind.
'Could he be planning some sinister ritual with this still-warm body?'
But after their conversation, Elaina found herself uncertain. The man's earnest demeanor made it hard to believe he was lying.
Elaina prided herself on her acting skills and had witnessed countless lies on her journey, yet she had never encountered anyone whose performance rivaled this man's.
As Elaina hesitated, Ron pointed behind her and said, "Is there anything else?"
"If not, I'll be collecting the body now."
Without waiting for her reply, he casually stepped around her and walked straight toward the simple earthen mound where the old man lay peacefully.
"What?!" Elaina gasped.
Her mind was still reeling from Ron's bizarre claims and the terrifying implications of necromancy, leaving her completely unprepared for this sudden turn of events.
She whirled around, her gaze fixed on the old man beside the mound, her heart pounding faster.
Ron knelt beside the old man, extending a finger to gently check for any remaining breath beneath his nose. The last faint trace of life had vanished completely.
Death had claimed him.
Confirming this, Ron withdrew his finger and slowly extended his right hand, palm down, hovering it just above the old man's cooling forehead.
His lips moved slightly as he began to chant something in a low voice.
The language Ron chanted was unlike anything Elaina had ever heard. Its ancient, guttural syllables sounded nothing like any spell incantation she knew.
Rather than a spell, the rhythmic cadence of his voice, combined with the rare solemnity on Ron's face, resembled a mournful, drawn-out eulogy.
The entire scene exuded an uncanny sense of professionalism. It felt less like a sinister ritual and more like an experienced priest performing a final mass for a departed soul, offering devout blessings and guidance.
Sunlight filtered through the sparse branches, dappling Ron's focused profile and the old man's serene features with shifting patches of light.
After a moment, Ron's chanting gradually ceased.
He gazed at the corpse before him, a faint smile playing on his lips. "What extravagance," he murmured, "to have an entire spring buried with you."
With that, he flicked his hovering hand sideways, as if drawing an invisible line through the air.
Beneath the warm spring sun, a remarkable phenomenon unfolded.
A faint, almost transparent phantom slowly rose from the old man's body.
The shadowy figure vaguely retained a human outline. It seemed to glance blankly at its own lifeless shell before giving Ron the slightest nod, as if conveying both relief and gratitude.
Immediately afterward, the faint phantom shattered like a dandelion seedhead scattered by the wind, dissolving into countless tiny, softly glowing stardust motes that silently vanished into the warm air, disappearing completely from this world.
Having completed this ritual, Ron stood up.
With fluid movements, he unloaded the massive coffin he had been carrying on his back and set it firmly on the ground.
The coffin opened without a creak, revealing a soft, dark-colored lining inside.
Ron bent down, slipped his hands under the old man's arms and knees, and carefully lifted the still-warm corpse with an almost tender gentleness.
He gently laid the old man flat inside the coffin, even adjusting his position slightly, as if simply settling him into a more comfortable sleeping position.
Then he closed the heavy lid.
A soft click signaled the latch locking shut.
Ron bent down again, hoisted the massive coffin containing his new "acquisition" back onto his shoulders, as if its weight were negligible.
Elaina stood rooted to the spot, watching the entire sequence unfold.
Her heart felt like it had been squeezed by an invisible hand, leaving her with an indescribable heaviness.
Her chest felt tight and suffocated.
It was strange. Despite witnessing such a stark separation of life and death, even seeing a stranger placed into the coffin of another unfamiliar, grotesque figure, Elaina found that the sorrow she felt for the old man's passing was unexpectedly replaced by a profound sense of peace after watching Ron's solemn and seemingly genuine "burial" ritual.
'He must have passed without any pain,' she thought. 'His soul seems to have found rest.'
The thought arose unbidden in her mind.