Chapter 91: Feathers

Chapter Ninety-OneFeathers

White feathers?

Klein stared at the grave with no corpse and no bones inside, and a single word abruptly sprang into his mind:

Angel!

In the sacred texts of the seven Churches, there were countless legends of angels and Saints. One of the defining traits of the former was a pair, two pairs, three pairs, even six pairs of pure white wings growing from their backs.

Yet in the next instant, Klein remembered something from the past.

Mr. Azik had once described his dreams to him—dreams that seemed like life after life, existence after existence.

In one of those scenes, Azik had been inside a dark mausoleum. Around him had stood many ancient coffins whose lids were open, and inside them had crouched corpses with white feathers growing from their backs!

Is this a special manifestation of the Death pathway, or something bizarre created by the Numinous Episcopate?

Klein did not speak. He restrained his emotions and calmly watched the white feathers at the bottom of the grave, stained with faint yellow oil.

He preliminarily judged that the old gentleman was unlikely to be an angel. A terrifying Beyonder at Sequence 2 or even Sequence 1 would certainly have an intense effect on the surroundings after death. For example, the Saint’s ashes behind Chanis Gate in Tingen City had extended nearly invisible, black, cold threads in order to seal the people and objects nearby.

Of course, it was also possible that he had not truly died… just like Mr. Azik?

Klein bent down and, with his right palm covered in a black glove, picked up three white feathers.

He intended to perform a divination above the gray fog once he returned home.

At that moment, Kapusti finally recovered. He scrambled closer to Klein, half crawling and half rolling, and looked into the grave with fear hidden in his eyes.

“Where is the body?”

Klein turned his head to look at him and said in a low voice, “Perhaps he left on his own.”

“Left on his own…”

Kapusti repeated the words in terror, finally understanding completely just how frightening it was for the dead to awaken.

His legs trembled. As though talking to himself, he said, “But—but I did not use the resurrection ritual on him. I did not…”

Klein turned to face him, watched him for several seconds, and said, “Death is not the end.”

“Death is not the end… Death is not the end…”

Kapusti was frightened badly by the very philosophy he believed in. The words burst out of him:

“He—will he come back?”

Mm. The messenger summoned by that copper whistle most likely corresponds to this old gentleman. In other words, giving a note to the messenger is the same as mailing a letter to the old gentleman—mailing a letter to someone who has been dead for almost half a year… Heh. I wonder where he is now, and what state he is in…

Regarding Kapusti’s question, Klein offered one light reminder:

“Do not blow that copper whistle again.”

“You mean the copper whistle will attract him back?” Kapusti asked back in horror.

Without waiting for Klein to answer, he pleaded on his own, “Could—could you help me throw this copper whistle into the Tussock River?

“If not, then I—I will go myself.”

Were you not interested in death and its corresponding philosophy earlier?

Klein lampooned inwardly, then reached out and accepted Kapusti’s copper whistle.

He planned, under suitable circumstances, to try mailing a letter to a dead person and see what would happen.

Of course, the premise for all of this was that he first confirmed there would not be much danger.

After instructing Kapusti to bury the grave again, Klein discussed the spirit dance and its corresponding mysticism knowledge with him for a while, enriching his own experience. He also confirmed that when Kapusti buried that old gentleman, he had followed the man’s will and placed the corpse face down.

Under certain special circumstances, using a spirit dance to replace part of the complicated arrangement in ritual magic is even more effective and…