Chapter 383 (2/2)

****

Stan sat in the Cathedral, gazing at the Ghosthound. There was a calmness in the air, a numbness, perhaps, keeping him from feeling the feelings of people around him. It wasn’t oppressive like it had been previously, but rather… regal, in a way.

When Stan had seen the Ghosthound walking up to greet him as the winner of the Tactics Assessment, all the joy that he had felt over the fun of the game fell away, replaced by anxiety. When they had met previously, that strange numbness around the Ghosthound had stripped Stan of all of the emotions he had felt, especially those he absorbed from the powerful emotional broadcast that was Raina.

With that void inside of himself, some emotions that perhaps had been… suppressed in the wake of the System, and suppressed further now that he had encountered Raina, were able to squirm to the surface, filling him with powerful angers and vicious hatreds. But something had… changed about the Ghosthound.

Squinting at the man, it was even possible to see the difference in him. His body, while not necessarily bigger, looked… different. Like he had been made out of skin and bone in the past, but now he was made out of twisting wood and molten metal. There was a density and grace to him that had been present, but… much more subtle. Now the man could hardly move without making everyone around him notice the difference between them.

Bitterly- well, as bitter as Stan could feel- Stan supposed that was just the difference between their two fates. He was slightly interested in the Soul Skill that the Ghosthound proposed, but Stan didn’t harbor any hopes that whatever he gained from this would be able to change Raina’s relative opinion of the two of them…

But more than the physical changes… it was that strange presence that the Ghosthound had now that enabled Stan to survive near him. It was like being on a beach, where the constant low hum of the wind robbed the world of their words, and reduced everything to a humming. In the same way, the powerful presence masked everything else, but not so much that everything was numbed away.

Still constant was the chilly pride that suffused him, that strange self-confidence that bordered on arrogance. It made Stan feel inferior, but not in a way that he was angry about. It was like swimming next to a whale.

In front of the realities of nature, how fragile was a human’s pride?

There were 4 people in the room already, and they were apparently waiting for a few more. There was himself, the Ghosthound, the winner of Knowledge Assessment, and a bored looking woman called Clarissa. Clarissa was a name that Stan had only heard vaguely during his time in Donnyton, and seeing her here, chatting so amicably with the Ghosthound, Stan almost wished he had paid more attention to her, so he could understand her role.

The Cathedral itself was a beautiful area, filled with tall, ivory pillars, and warm wooden benches. Unlike a typical church, however, at the center of the Cathedral was not an altar, but rather an indentation in the floor, in which there was a small resting chamber, where a person could lay. It was somewhat like a permanent casket had been placed there, drawing everyone’s gaze.

About 10 minutes passed, and just about the time that the Ghosthound was looking impatient, 4 more figures came into the inner chamber of the Cathedral. The leader was Mrs. Hamilton, who was followed by Donny and one of the head healers, whose name was Ptolemy. Following him was a youngish looking girl who seemed extremely confused, as if she had wandered in off the street.

But, based on the Ghosthound’s gaze, this girl was who they had been waiting for. And Stan was very interested in starting, but…

...somehow the fact that one of the head healers had come here gave him a sinking feeling in his chest…

“Are all three of you prepared?” The Ghosthound asked, his eyes glowing a luminous emerald while he looked at them all. In turn they all nodded.

Breathing out through his nose, the Ghosthound exhaled slowly. “Alright then. Let’s start with you. Here this is the Stone of Genesis. You have the idea for the Skill that you want?”

After a brief pause, the elderly woman he was referring to nodded. There was a nervous energy in her stance, but she was clearly suppressing it in front of the Ghosthound. Stan felt a slight annoyance that his emotional reading was suppressed, because it would have given him some comfort to feel these emotions through another, and then to finally feel her relief when her part was over, and his would have to begin.

Taking the stone from the Ghosthound, she looked around, confused. Donny pointed. “It’s… slightly unfortunate, but… you just need to lay in the resting area down there. This whole building is designed as a focus of sorts, and it will improve the efficacy of the stone.”

“Oh, but first.” The Ghosthound reached out and touched the woman’s shoulder. A tremor ran through her, and she stumbled. The Ghosthound didn’t move to help her, and stepped back. Wordlessly, she turned and looked at him.

“A gift. Use your imagination to your fullest… the stone can give you anything right now.” The Ghosthound said, speaking softly. He folded his arms.

Nodding, the woman stepped down, and laid inside of the resting area.