70 Spirit Channeling
The instant he laid eyes on the âmidwife,â Lumianâs heart seemed to cease beating.
Sheâs still alive?
I clearly saw her killed by Ryan, and her spirit was destroyed!
Lumian remembered vividly how the midwife had eventually been reduced to tiny pieces of flesh scattered on the ground. Some parts couldnât even be found.
This must be a freaking ghost encounter! No, wait, thereâs the sound of breathing! Lumian thought of some scenes from his sisterâs novels, and his heart went from stillness to rapid beating.
If it werenât for the âmidwifeâ not looking at him, preoccupied with trimming the branches of the flowering tree, he would have reacted to the stress.
Kacha, kacha. Tiny tree branches that grew haphazardly fell to the ground, snapping the stunned Lumian out of his daze.
He subconsciously took a step forward, walking towards the place where the tulips bloomed.
The âmidwifeâ didnât stop him or even turn around.
Lumian couldnât help but steal another glance at her. She was focused on pruning the branches. The shadows cast by the flowers and trees made her profile look dark and gloomy.
Not daring to linger, Lumian plucked a few tulips and left the administratorâs castle.
His heart was still pounding even when he returned to the village.
After calming himself down, Lumian walked towards Reimund Gregâs house. It was still too early for Aurore to trigger the cycle.
It was also a two-story building, but compared to Lumian and Auroreâs house, it was clearly older, more dilapidated, and narrower. The outer wall revealed the gray color of stone amidst the many green plants creeping over it.
At that moment, the Gregsâ door was wide open, allowing one to see the stove on the left, the table on the right, and the wooden buckets behind.
Lumian recalled that the wooden barrels were used for storage. There were two simple wooden beds in the space they isolated. They belonged to Reimund and his sister.
Lumian didnât knock and walked straight into the Gregsâ house as usual.
Reimundâs elder and younger sisters were helping their mother prepare dinner. Reimundâs father, Pierre Greg, was sitting on a chair at the wooden table, drinking cheap wine with a gloomy expression.
âI heard that Reimund is missing?â Lumian asked Pierre Greg with a concerned look.
Pierre Greg seemed to have aged significantly, and the few wrinkles on his face were even more pronounced.
He looked up at Lumian and asked in confusion and surprise, âYou donât know?â
At this moment, Reimundâs mother and two sisters stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Lumian.
Lumian couldnât be any more honest.
âIâve been busy with my own matters. I havenât seen Reimund for days.â
Pierre Greg had already inquired and knew that Lumian was telling the truth. Otherwise, suspecting that this rascal had instigated Reimund to run away from home, he would have gone questioning him that afternoon.
âTwo afternoons agoâthey said it was the 29thâReimund didnât return after he left,â Pierre Gregg said with a gloomy expression. âWeâve been looking for him. His two brothers are still out searching. Where do you think heâd have gone?â
Lumian hesitated before responding, âHe usually says that he doesnât want to learn shepherding, but he doesnât have much money on him. Itâs impossible for him to leave on his own. Let me see if he left anything behindâŠâ
As he spoke, he walked naturally to the wooden barrels at the back of the first floor and passed through them to reach Reimundâs bed.
The bed was very simple, as if pieced together with a few planks of wood. However, the grayish-blue bedsheets, the pillow stuffed with straw, and the quilt with traces of mending were all clean. It was evident that they were often washed.
This was because Aurore loved cleanliness and didnât allow lice to appear at home or on her body. Even Lumian had developed this habit. Therefore, when he interacted with his playmates, he would consciously urge them to maintain personal hygiene. He didnât allow those fellows to be dirty and live with lice and fleas all day.
If Reimund and the others slacked off at some point and were discovered by him to have lice, they would definitely be pranked. They might even be pushed into the river and made to wash up even if they refused to.
After a few years of âoppression,â Reimund habitually helped clean up the environment when he returned home.
âWe didnât find any message,â Pierre Gregg said with a worried expression as he followed him to the bed.
Lumian sat by Reimundâs bed and reached under the pillow.
He found two itemsâa cracked, dark-red fountain pen and an exercise book filled with handwriting.
Reimund was hungry for knowledge, but had little chance to receive an education.
In Emperor Roselleâs time, villages like Cordu had mandatory township schools, housed in the same building as the administratorâs office. The building also contained an army recruitment center, a recruit physical examination committee, and other institutions, but ultimately, there were only a few staff members.
In recent decades, many villages had lost their schools. The Church provided Sunday school for larger populations, but Cordu had to rely on educated elders to teach the children sporadically. Over time, some young people became illiterate again.
When Lumian was in a good mood, he would claim he needed money for drinks. So, he sold his old fountain pens and workbooks to Reimund, Ava, and others at a low price, teaching them some words in the process.
Reimund took every lesson as seriously as he did combat training and helping shepherds make cheese in the mountains to earn money.
He was determined to change his fate.
Lumian removed the fountain pen and exercise book, staring at them for a long time.
âI asked the padre. He said these are just simple words that donât form a sentence.â Pierre Gregg sighed.
Lumian flipped through the exercise book, noting how the handwriting had improved from messy and ugly to something acceptable.
âTrue, thereâs no message.â He agreed with Pierre Gregg before adding, âBut I wonder if itâs a code that can be deciphered into a sentence. Youâve heard a similar story, right? Aurore told it to many village children. Did they mention it at home?â
This included Reimundâs younger brother and sister.
âYes, they did.â Pierre Gregg nodded.
Cordu villagers would often gather in the kitchen at night for conversation, laughter, and storytelling when they couldnât afford the tavern. First-time guests had to follow Intis social norms and bring a bottle of wine, even a cheap one.
Pierre Gregg had heard a similar story from his youngest son during such a gathering.
Lumian held up the exercise book confidently.
âIâll take it back to Aurore for her to examine and see if she can find anything.â
âAlright,â Pierre Gregg didnât think it was anything valuable.
After leaving the area surrounded by wooden barrels, Lumian walked toward the door, and Pierre Gregg sat down again.
A few steps later, Lumian heard Pierre Gregg sigh and mutter,âIf he didnât want to learn shepherding, he couldâve told me. Why did he just leave⊠Our family will soon be wealthy. He wonât need to learn shepherding anymoreâŠâ
...
Wealthy? Lumianâs heart raced as he turned around, feigning curiosity.
âWhatâs this chance for wealth?â
Pierre Gregg didnât look up, keeping his head lowered as he said despondently,
âOur familyâs horoscope is about to change. Our luck will improveâŠâ
Whatâ Lumian felt a chill down his spine.
âWho told you this?â he asked.
Pierre Gregg didnât answer, continuing to lament.
âŠâŠ
Upon returning home, Lumian immediately informed his sister that the âmidwifeâ was still alive.
Aurore frowned her blonde brows. âSheâs not necessarily a living person.â
âHuh?â Lumian was taken aback.
...
Aurore pondered and said, âDidnât we discuss this before? Madame Pualisâ pathway might have the power to control the undead. That might be a zombie.â
âImpossible,â Lumian said. âI saw her without activating my Spirit Vision. Besides, there were no signs of stitching on her body. Back then, she was diced into many small pieces by Ryan.â Lumian recalled and said, âAlso, I heard her breathing!â
At this point, Lumian paused.
âHowever, she was indeed a little sluggish. Her expression was gloomy, and her eyes werenât lively enough. She looked almost exactly like Naroka! The one I saw on the night of the previous, previous loop when Naroka took the initiative to enter Paramita!â
Naroka, whose face was pale and eyes were blank.
Of course, the âmidwifeâ obviously resembled a living person more.
Aurore nodded and said, âA special state thatâs closer to the undead?â
Unable to deduce an answer, she gestured for Lumian to say something else.
Lumian recounted everything that had happened in Reimundâs fatherâs words in detail, as if nothing had happened in the castle.
Aurore listened quietly and nodded.
âMadame Pualis doesnât seem to want to pursue the matter of the castle. I wonder what sheâs holding backâŠ
âAlso, your discovery proves that a portion of the abnormality in the village is related to her, but she doesnât seem to be involved in the cycleâŠâ
What she meant was that Madame Pualisâs involvement in the abnormality was mainly the fertility, death, soul, and Paramita. Nothing to do with the time loop.
âI think so too.â Lumian had such an inkling during his explorations. âIt seems that the person behind the padre and company is most likely not Madame Pualis.â
Referring to Reimundâs fatherâs words, he guessed,
âThe one who spread the news that doing something can affect the horoscope and obtain good luck?â
Aurore acknowledged tersely.
âWeâll investigate tomorrow and see if we can channel Reimundâs spirit tonight.â
âŠâŠ
After dinner, Aurore saw that it was about time and began to set up the altar.
She was praying to herself, so she only placed a single candle, but the candle was replaced by another one made of slumber flowers and other materials.
Aurore sanctified a silver dagger and created a wall of spirituality. Then, she dripped the extract made of night vanilla and moon flowers onto the orange flames, stirring up a misty fog.
Seeing that the preparations were complete, Aurore glanced at the workbook on the altar and took a step back. She said in ancient Hermes, âI!â
As she uttered the word, her eyes darkened, as if an invisible wind was swirling around her.
âI summon in my name:â
This was the second sentence she said, and she changed it to Hermes.
As she didnât know where Reimundâs spirit was, she couldnât directly communicate with it. She could only try summoning it. As a wild Beyonder, she didnât dare pray to the Evernight Goddess, who was in charge of this domain. She could only rely on herself. The chances of success werenât high, unless Reimundâs spirit was indeed somewhere in Cordu and was very close.
Aurore continued to recite, âThe spirit lingering in Cordu Village.
âThe man named Reimund Greg.
âThe owner of this exercise bookâŠâ
The orange candle flame suddenly swayed, absorbing the surrounding fog and becoming slightly larger.
Its light rippled and was dyed with a deep blue color.
Beads of sweat appeared on Auroreâs forehead as she began to borrow strength from various materials.
Amidst the howling wind, a figure appeared above the blue flames.
Having already activated his Spirit Vision, Lumian saw a translucent figure. He had brown hair and eyes, looking rather ordinary. It was Reimund Greg.
He was indeed still in the village.
Reimundâs body was bloated, his face pale, and blood-colored tears were dripping from the corners of his eyes.
Whâ Aurore was clearly stunned.
After the cycle was restarted, Reimund had only gone missing and hadnât drowned. How did his spirit end up like this?
Thatâs right. If he hadnât drowned, how could he have become a spirit?
They were self-contradictoryâŠ
Amidst her confusion, Aurore asked, âReimund Greg, why did you disappear?â
Reimundâs expression suddenly turned ferocious as he shouted sharply, âThey drowned me!â