Chapter 70 - 70 Spirit Channeling

70 Spirit Channeling

The instant he laid eyes on the ‘midwife,’ Lumian’s heart seemed to cease beating.

She’s 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 couldn’t even be found.

This must be a freaking ghost encounter! No, wait, there’s the sound of breathing! Lumian thought of some scenes from his sister’s novels, and his heart went from stillness to rapid beating.

If it weren’t for the ‘midwife’ not looking at him, preoccupied with tr.i.m.m.i.n.g 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 ‘midwife’ didn’t stop him or even turn around.

Lumian couldn’t 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 administrator’s castle.

His heart was still pounding even when he returned to the village.

After calming himself down, Lumian walked towards Reimund Greg’s house. It was still too early for Aurore to trigger the cycle.

It was also a two-story building, but compared to Lumian and Aurore’s 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 Gregs’ 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 s.p.a.ce they isolated. They belonged to Reimund and his sister.

Lumian didn’t knock and walked straight into the Gregs’ house as usual.

Reimund’s elder and younger sisters were helping their mother prepare dinner. Reimund’s father, Pierre Greg, was sitting on a chair at the wooden table, drinking cheap wine with a gloomy expression.

“I heard that Reimund is missing?” 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 p.r.o.nounced.

He looked up at Lumian and asked in confusion and surprise, “You don’t know?”

At this moment, Reimund’s mother and two sisters stopped what they were doing and turned to look at Lumian.

Lumian couldn’t be any more honest.

“I’ve been busy with my own matters. I haven’t seen Reimund for days.”

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.

“Two afternoons ago—they said it was the 29th—Reimund didn’t return after he left,” Pierre Gregg said with a gloomy expression. “We’ve been looking for him. His two brothers are still out searching. Where do you think he’d have gone?”

Lumian hesitated before responding, “He usually says that he doesn’t want to learn shepherding, but he doesn’t have much money on him. It’s impossible for him to leave on his own. Let me see if he left anything behind…”

As he spoke, he walked naturally to the wooden barrels at the back of the first floor and pa.s.sed through them to reach Reimund’s 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 didn’t 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 didn’t 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 “oppression,” Reimund habitually helped clean up the environment when he returned home.

“We didn’t find any message,” Pierre Gregg said with a worried expression as he followed him to the bed.

Lumian sat by Reimund’s bed and reached under the pillow.

He found two items—a 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 Roselle’s time, villages like Cordu had mandatory township schools, housed in the same building as the administrator’s office. The building also contained an army recruitment center, a recruit physical examination committee, and other inst.i.tutions, 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.

“I asked the padre. He said these are just simple words that don’t form a sentence.” Pierre Gregg sighed.

Lumian flipped through the exercise book, noting how the handwriting had improved from messy and ugly to something acceptable.

“True, there’s no message.” He agreed with Pierre Gregg before adding, “But I wonder if it’s a code that can be deciphered into a sentence. You’ve heard a similar story, right? Aurore told it to many village children. Did they mention it at home?”

This included Reimund’s younger brother and sister.

“Yes, they did.” Pierre Gregg nodded.

Cordu villagers would often gather in the kitchen at night for conversation, laughter, and storytelling when they couldn’t 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.

“I’ll take it back to Aurore for her to examine and see if she can find anything.”

“Alright,” Pierre Gregg didn’t 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,”If he didn’t want to learn shepherding, he could’ve told me. Why did he just leave… Our family will soon be wealthy. He won’t need to learn shepherding anymore…”

...

Wealthy? Lumian’s heart raced as he turned around, feigning curiosity.

“What’s this chance for wealth?”

Pierre Gregg didn’t look up, keeping his head lowered as he said despondently,

“Our family’s horoscope is about to change. Our luck will improve…”

What— Lumian felt a chill down his spine.

“Who told you this?” he asked.

Pierre Gregg didn’t answer, continuing to lament.

……

Upon returning home, Lumian immediately informed his sister that the ‘midwife’ was still alive.

Aurore frowned her blonde brows. “She’s not necessarily a living person.”

“Huh?” Lumian was taken aback.

...

Aurore pondered and said, “Didn’t we discuss this before? Madame Pualis’ pathway might have the power to control the undead. That might be a zombie.”

“Impossible,” Lumian said. “I saw her without activating my Spirit Vision. Besides, there were no signs of st.i.tching on her body. Back then, she was diced into many small pieces by Ryan.” Lumian recalled and said, “Also, I heard her breathing!”

At this point, Lumian paused.

“However, she was indeed a little sluggish. Her expression was gloomy, and her eyes weren’t 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!”

Naroka, whose face was pale and eyes were blank.

Of course, the ‘midwife’ obviously resembled a living person more.

Aurore nodded and said, “A special state that’s closer to the undead?”

Unable to deduce an answer, she gestured for Lumian to say something else.

Lumian recounted everything that had happened in Reimund’s father’s words in detail, as if nothing had happened in the castle.

Aurore listened quietly and nodded.

“Madame Pualis doesn’t seem to want to pursue the matter of the castle. I wonder what she’s holding back…

“Also, your discovery proves that a portion of the abnormality in the village is related to her, but she doesn’t seem to be involved in the cycle…”

What she meant was that Madame Pualis’s involvement in the abnormality was mainly the fertility, death, soul, and Paramita. Nothing to do with the time loop.

“I think so too.” Lumian had such an inkling during his explorations. “It seems that the person behind the padre and company is most likely not Madame Pualis.”

Referring to Reimund’s father’s words, he guessed,

“The one who spread the news that doing something can affect the horoscope and obtain good luck?”

Aurore acknowledged tersely.

“We’ll investigate tomorrow and see if we can channel Reimund’s spirit tonight.”

……

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, “I!”

As she uttered the word, her eyes darkened, as if an invisible wind was swirling around her.

“I summon in my name:”

This was the second sentence she said, and she changed it to Hermes.

As she didn’t know where Reimund’s spirit was, she couldn’t directly communicate with it. She could only try summoning it. As a wild Beyonder, she didn’t dare pray to the Evernight G.o.ddess, who was in charge of this domain. She could only rely on herself. The chances of success weren’t high, unless Reimund’s spirit was indeed somewhere in Cordu and was very close.

Aurore continued to recite, “The spirit lingering in Cordu Village.

“The man named Reimund Greg.

“The owner of this exercise book…”

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 Aurore’s 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.

Reimund’s body was bloated, his face pale, and blood-colored tears were dripping from the corners of his eyes.

Wh— Aurore was clearly stunned.

After the cycle was restarted, Reimund had only gone missing and hadn’t drowned. How did his spirit end up like this?

That’s right. If he hadn’t drowned, how could he have become a spirit?

They were self-contradictory…

Amidst her confusion, Aurore asked, “Reimund Greg, why did you disappear?”

Reimund’s expression suddenly turned ferocious as he shouted sharply, “They drowned me!”