By Ghostlight and Shadows

Chapter 1

A spirit king and an exorcist collide in a tale filled with supernatural delights.
Elias Stone always felt like he was born under a black cloud, cursed with misfortune since he was a child. Guided by an eccentric mentor, he ended up marrying a ghost, under the outrageous promise: “I’ll find you an Enchanting Specter.”
However, his mentor turned out to be a trickster, and Elias’s bride was just a wandering spirit—he didn’t even know her name.
Once the bizarre ceremony was complete, a chilling wind swept through, and Elias’s mentor fell to his knees, trembling in terror and refusing to explain himself further. After that, Elias experienced a peculiar shift; his misfortunes ceased, and he mostly forgot about his unconventional marriage.
Life went on until Elder Elias left the Order of Exorcists to start his own ghost-hunting business, where odd occurrences reignited.
For instance, when something broke in his shop, an identical replacement appeared at his doorstep the next day.
Or when troublesome patrons came to his store, they always left haunted by nightmares.
Then there was that one morning when he opened his door to find someone who had wronged him kneeling and begging for mercy, crying, "Please, I swear I’ll never do it again!"
Elias just stood there, overwhelmed.
Candles flickered and light bulbs went out in rapid succession—courtesy of the specters.
These bulbs carried negative energy and needed to go, so Elias spent his days destroying them, yet he couldn’t catch the ghost behind the mischief.
One evening, he decided it was time to lay a trap—waiting patiently to uncover the specter’s true form.
What revealed itself was a handsome man holding a ghostly light bulb.
They locked eyes, the ghost smirked, “I want to help you fix your light. It just gets broken as soon as I repair it. The quality of living people these days is frankly disappointing.”
Elias was taken aback. “Why would you care to help me?”
The ghost, looking a bit bashful, replied, “Weren’t we… married?”
Elias frowned, “What did happen to that promised Enchanting Specter?”
**Plot Summary**:
Elias Stone grew up with a peculiar affliction, and under the guidance of his quirky mentor, he broke free from his lifelong doom. Fast forward thirteen years, now an established exorcist, strange things begin surfacing around him once more… This story flows smoothly, packed with fresh insights, suspenseful twists, and humorous encounters. Our two protagonists display contrasting personalities—through haunted events, they slowly unravel past truths, inching from acquaintance to love, only to discover they were bound by fate from their very first meeting.
**The Wedding Ceremony**
“Elias Stone, to break your innate doom, there’s only one solution: a ghost marriage, a bite of darkness to fight the dark! I’ll find you a beautiful yet fierce Enchanting Specter!” pledges Master Alaric with unwavering assurance.
Always a little serious for his age, young Elias chose to disregard the spookiness implied by “Enchanting Specter” and asked, “Will it really work?”
“Absolutely! When have I ever steered you wrong? After this, you’ll finally get a good night’s rest.”
Thus began the wild ordeal of his ghostly wedding.
Preparation took months, and finally, a date was set for the Festival of Shadows.
On that day, Elias found himself staring out from a window, the rain streaming down the glass, dulling the sunlight. A sea of people gathered in the courtyard below, quiet as crows. Whispers filtered through the water-streaked glass.
“Did you hear? That poor kid is haunted by all sorts of spirits since he was little.”
“I doubt he’ll make it past next year. Such a shame, especially for such a handsome boy.”
“What could a ghost wedding even do? No matter how sinister the spirit, it can’t fight his natural bad luck.”
“It is hopeless…”
Master Alaric insisted parents shouldn’t attend, so when it was finally time to say goodbye, Lady Miranda took his hand, tears shimmering in her eyes. She quickly turned away, wiping her face with the back of her hand before giving him one last warm smile, "Make sure you come home early."
Elias donned a crimson silk robe, adorned with gleaming embroidery, as the crowd ushered him ahead.
The paper-thin garments and decorative trinkets felt oddly burdensome; they marched him away through the torrential downpour. Though surrounded by people, a sense of eerie solitude settled in—was he heading towards the Ancient Manor, or was it the Threshold to the Underworld?
As they trekked along narrow mountain paths, time slipped by, until a decrepit estate came into view.
Abandoned for years, it loomed in silence, with flickering red lanterns swaying against the rain, reminiscent of blood and fog.
Lord Lydon threw open the creaking doors, the sound a high-pitched scream.
Leading through a long corridor that seemed to stretch indefinitely, they reached a waiting room—
The space was aglow; the walls were painted bright red.
“Double Happiness” characters adorned the walls, while red candles flickered with feigned tears. At the end of the room, on elaborate thrones sat paper representations of his parents, surrounded by a crowd draped in ghostly masks, tall and short. They laughed at Elias, their clapping echoing like a chant.
Little did he count on Master Alaric's unreliability; instead of an exotic spirit bride he imagined, he was wed to an aimless ghost who never put in an appearance, despite the effort poured in from Mistress Seraphina and Lord Lydon to call her forth.
Elias stood still, bewildered.
All the rituals were in place; the zodiacal signs matched. The spirits of the underworld would normally respond, but there was nothing but eerie silence.
The spirit neither revealed itself, as was customary, to fulfill the wedding pact, nor did it lose control, wreaking havoc amidst the gathering.
Standing there wasn’t a viable solution.
So Elias bowed deeply into the emptiness across from him.
He honored the heavens.
He honored his kin.
Spouses pledged their vows.
The red candles quivered in the dimness, the red lanterns hung high, the “Double Happiness” symbol shining brightly above them.

Chapter 2

When Elias Stone looked up again, Mistress Seraphina had her mouth tightly shut, Lord Lydon staggered backward a few steps, his face as pale as a ghost, and Master Alaric inexplicably dropped to his knees, repeatedly bowing his head in fright. The guests around them—though they couldn’t be seen—were engulfed in a deathly silence that hinted at their shared dread.
What had just happened?
Elias Stone felt a twinge of confusion as he looked down, where a Charm of Longevity had appeared around his neck. It was small and icy, devoid of any warmth, the intricate carving of mountains and waves stark against his skin.
He left the ancient manor without encountering the spirit that had cast such a pall over the evening.
On the way home, Lord Lydon and Mistress Seraphina mumbled incoherently to each other, lost in their own thoughts, and no matter how Elias questioned them, he received no answers.
Finally arriving home, Lady Miranda embraced him tightly, sobbing unabatedly before finally pulling away and firmly stating, “There are plenty of solutions. Misfortune? It’s not like we can’t move forward.”
She was a sharp-minded woman and quickly regained her composure, shifting gears to plot their next move.
Meanwhile, Elias curled up in a corner, clutching the Charm of Longevity, biting his lip in silent contemplation.
He wasn’t afraid—just somewhat saddened.
It felt as if he had become a burden…
Yet, strangely enough, every dream he had after that night was peaceful and serene.
...
Thirteen years later.
With a messenger bag slung over one shoulder, Elias Stone looked up as the soft summer sunlight bathed his face, its gentleness soothing to his eyes.
Years had drifted by. The charming boy who had once caught everyone’s eye had grown tall and straight. His youthful features were striking—casual photographs hardly showing a pore, he looked like he had stepped off the cover of a magazine. Anyone who glanced his way would find it hard not to look twice.
If one didn’t know better, they would never guess that he dealt with the Minotaur Beast on a daily basis.
Nor would anyone assume that the boy who had nearly fallen victim to The Fiends had ultimately become a top-tier Exorcist.
Nearby, the Eastgate Enclave was showing its age, its paint peeling and the buildings sagging.
Tasked with a new job, he learned that Unit 5 on the third floor was reportedly haunted.
Upon entering the complex, he ascended the stairs where a colorful Aunt Beatrice was waiting to greet him.
“This is it,” Aunt Beatrice shivered at the far end of the corridor, reluctant to approach. “Every night, that public phone rings all on its own.”
“Shouldn’t you contact the property management?” Elias Stone asked.
“But the phone lines were cut years ago, and this place was slated for demolition. No one even uses those phones anymore.”
It seemed plausible, so Elias decided to stake out the unit for the night.
Room 302 had been vacant. Aunt Beatrice, squinting from afar, shuffled through a big ring of keys until her hands smelled of metal, finally pulling out the one for 302.
As she handed him the key, she abruptly declared, “Elias Stone, your time has come.”
Elias blinked in surprise. “What did you say?”
Aunt Beatrice looked just as bewildered, rubbing her hands together. “Did I say something?”
Once she left, Elias unlocked the door to Room 302. Inside, it had two bedrooms and a living area, with some furniture still untouched and a thick layer of dust everywhere. The thin walls allowed noise to seep through from the narrow cracks—the sounds of arguing couples, cartoons, sizzling pans, and clattering dishes formed a chaotic symphony of life around him. He peeked into the hall where the haunted phone remained silent. The rusting security grilles only allowed glimpses of bright sunlight outside, flowers swaying in the breeze, and children playing at the nearby kindergarten.
Elias crafted a protective charm, summoning a gust of wind that cleared the dust within the apartment.
Everything seemed normal.
The TV turned on with a nudge, and Elias settled down on the couch, opening a bag of chips as he began to watch.
As he stared at the screen, his fingers absentmindedly brushed against the Charm of Longevity at his chest.
Thirteen years had passed, and still, the charm felt as cold as ever.
It was the only remnant of the Eternal Union left behind.
Without it, Elias almost could have convinced himself that the wedding had merely been a figment of his imagination.
He waited until midnight.
Outside was eerily quiet; only the ticking of the minute hand in the room broke the silence.
The hour hand pointed to one-thirty when suddenly, crows outside began to caw harshly. Elias peered through the peephole and saw a Shadow tailing down the corridor, turning its head to offer him a toothy grin, its white teeth gleaming wickedly.
At precisely two o’clock, Elias rose, pressing himself silently against the door.
The Shadow outside sensed something amiss and puffed its fur up in fright, trying to intimidate him for a few seconds before darting away. The moon hung high amid the dark, shadows of tree branches danced on the curtains like ghostly figures, and the phone rang out sharply.
Elias rushed out and grabbed the receiver.
A hoarse voice whispered on the other end, “Elias Stone, your time has come.”
Elias smirked back into the phone. “Your time has come as well.”
He swiftly slapped a talisman onto the device. Flames erupted from the paper, driving away a wisp of dark mist that fled in terror.
A dreadful screech filled the air as it tried to escape but was swiftly dispersed by a powerful slap from Elias.
He checked the phone again, ensuring no trace of the ghostly presence remained.
It was a straightforward task, solved easily like any other.
The next morning, he woke early, packed his things, and prepared to head home.
Aunt Beatrice trailed behind him, still anxious. “Elias, are you sure that thing won’t come back?”
“I’m quite sure.” Elias waved her off lazily.
...
Elias lived somewhat on the outskirts, a forty-minute ride from the City Center. He resided in an old building with tired gray walls that had never seen a coat of paint; the only splash of color came from clothes hanging on the balcony.
Many assumed Elias must be wealthy, given he was one of the top Exorcists around—so many sought his help that they rarely got the chance.
In reality, his life was quite simple, bordering on sparse: he lived alone in a humble apartment, furnished in minimalistic style. His wardrobe consisted of white shirts or hoodies, and he had no particular favorite food. Sometimes when he stayed up too late, his only indulgence was a few sips of herbal tea, often retrieved from the local Corner Mercantile or The Book Nook just five hundred feet away.

Chapter 3

Elias Stone often found refuge in the local bookstore, a cozy nook filled with the scent of aged paper and the whispers of stories long untold. The owner couldn't help but notice this young man, as he frequently browsed through obscure titles, most of which delved into horror, the supernatural, or crime. Sometimes, when fatigue overtook him, he would lay his head on the table and drift off, his tousled hair falling across his forehead, revealing his long neck and porcelain-like skin that shimmered like fresh snow under the sunlight.
On a few occasions, the shopkeeper’s curiosity nudged him to ask, “What do you do, Elias? You don’t seem to have a regular schedule.”
Elias, still half-asleep, replied, “It’s quite a dangerous line of work.”
“Oh,” the owner said, now shifting nervously as he tucked his wallet away. “So you’re a loan shark then?”
Elias could only raise an eyebrow, his expression a mix of surprise and amusement.
Later that day, as Elias returned to his apartment, his faithful companion, a calico cat named Milk, greeted him enthusiastically, weaving between his legs.
“Meow—,” it called.
Elias had almost forgotten that they were running low on cat food.
He scratched Milk under her chin affectionately before stepping out to the Corner Mercantile downstairs.
The convenience store buzzed with activity, its bright lights illuminating the faces of several students laughing and devouring steaming beef meatballs. Elias casually selected cat food, a handful of frozen meals, and various household supplies, piling them up on the counter.
Behind the register stood a young woman, Lady Arabella, who lit up at his arrival. With her hair tied back into a playful ponytail adorned with a butterfly bow, she scanned the items while glancing at him through her dark lashes. “So, Elias, are you free anytime soon?” She hesitated, visibly shy. “I remember there's a new action movie coming out—it's gotten fantastic reviews from overseas.”
Elias offered a polite smile. “Not right now, I’m swamped with work.”
“Oh…” Lady Arabella’s disappointment was palpable. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s alright. Work is important. Just remember to take care of yourself. Do you want the fish balls packed to go?”
“Sure.”
She handed him the piping-hot dish while her eyes sparkled with unspoken warmth. “Just be careful, it’s hot!”
Elias exchanged goodbyes and stepped outside, bags in hand, just as the automatic doors swung open. July's heat enveloped him, mixed with the vibrant sounds of people chatting and laughter echoing in the air.
“Elias, the time has come,” he heard Lady Arabella call out from inside the store.
Startled, Elias turned back, but she had already returned to her tasks, head down.
Once home, Milk was waiting at the entrance, meowing eagerly. Elias stroked her head, mixing the old and new cat food before setting it down for her. Milk purred contentedly, rubbing against him with affection.
After a couple of late nights, sleep had escaped him again. Elias found himself pouring a steaming cup of milk and picking up a book, hoping to slip into the comfort of its pages.
But the more he read, the more awake he felt.
Sleep had never come easily to him, and last night's rest had been barely five hours. Now, he seized the moment to catch up on what remained.
At last, he slipped into a deep sleep, but it was short-lived. When he finally opened his eyes, darkness enveloped him, and a bone-chilling air crept in from all sides.
His head felt foggy, and just as he reached out to find a light switch, his hand brushed against something solid.
Hard and cold, like a wall.
He froze for a moment, then extended his hands to probe the surrounding area, only to discover that the “walls” were obstructing him. Attempting to bend his knees was met with the same fruitless restriction.
He was trapped in a coffin, unable to move except to lie flat. Even his desperate knocks only echoed a dull thud, mimicking some wooden contraption.
After what felt like an eternity, he could hear the distant sounds of gongs and drums, signaling an unknown ceremony, perhaps joyous or mourning.
He resumed his exploration and suddenly pieced it all together.
This texture…
It resembled that of a coffin.
He lay there, imprisoned, cut off from the light of day.
The raucous sounds grew louder outside, punctuated by the breath of a flute-playing spirit and a mingled chorus of laughter and tears.
Then came a voice, piercing and shrill.
An Imp cried out, “The time has come!”
In that instant, the Charm of Longevity he wore around his neck stirred for the first time in years: an intense warmth, almost wrathful in its energy.
The Coffin of Silence jolted slightly as it was hoisted, swaying forward.
His talisman, for reasons that eluded him, was ineffective, and Elias struck the coffin’s side with all his strength, the dull thuds reverberating in his ears.
It was futile.
In full recognition of his circumstances, Elias took a deep breath, steeling himself, and listened to the ruckus outside.
Nothing but the cacophony of celebration; no voices of comrades or peace. He felt the coffin sway as if it had crossed a small river, ascended a hill, and finally come to a rest.
It was set down with a clatter, and the din outside shifted momentarily.
Elias braced himself, waiting for the moment the lid would lift—
Seconds slipped by, and the cover above began to shift silently, pushed upward.
Light flooded in, and as he instinctively prepared to surge upward, he realized he was paralyzed, unable to move a single muscle.
He squinted against the brightness.
Before him stood an Imp adorned with a mask, clad in a flowing black robe, clutching a grotesque mask in its hands. Before he could comprehend the scene, the mask was clapped onto his face.
What unfolded next felt like a dream.
Colors swirled around him like flowing mountains and rivers, with the only clarity ahead being a Dark Mansion adorned with glowing red lanterns. Elias found himself propelled from the coffin by an unseen force, dressed in a brilliant crimson gown, marching forward amidst a throng of mischievous spirits.
That mansion was hauntingly familiar.
As he stepped inside, the décor mirrored the previous eerie ceremonies of Eternal Union.
And there, at the center of the room, stood a man in silence.
Even the groom looked like a counterfeit.
He donned a splendid crimson robe, intricately perilous clouds and dragons weaved into the fabric. His mask concealed all expressions; he hung his head slightly, leaving his face shrouded in shadow.

Chapter 4

Elias Stone stepped forward, his gaze sharp as he assessed the situation.
The figure before him was built similarly; as long as he could move, whether they were human or ghost, he was ready to fight.
To his dismay, amidst the applause and cheers, the Phantom Herald called out, “First, let us bow to heaven and earth—”
A crushing weight bore down on him.
Elias Stone struggled with every ounce of strength, yet he felt himself slowly yield, tilting awkwardly towards the grand table before him.
“Now bow to the respected elders—”
They bowed deeply to a figure made of paper.
A sense of dread settled in Elias's stomach. He couldn't allow himself to bow again; it would be disastrous.
But from the moment they stepped through the threshold, resistance had been out of the question.
“Now, the couple's bow!”
Facing his counterpart, Elias felt a sudden warmth spreading from his chest, a surge of power rekindling his spirit.
There was still a chance.
The unseen force pushed him down, attempting to force him into submission. Gritting his teeth, he fought to remain upright.
With each passing moment, the weight intensified, time dragged on, and sweat poured from his brow; darkness closed in on him. He felt his spine weaken, muscles taut, as his body stretched like a bowstring, sweat trickling down his face.
Uncertain how much time had passed, the pressure felt as if it would shatter his bones. Everything blurred into obscurity.
Yet, he held on.
In a sudden flash, the Charm of Longevity on his chest blazed with an intense heat, nearly scalding him. The Imp encircling him exploded into a mist of blood, leaving no trace behind. Miraculously, none of the blood splattered onto Elias; instead, he was abruptly yanked backward, the surroundings fading into the distance—the candles, the joyful hall, the mansion dwindling in his vision.
Then he felt an embrace from behind.
A voice whispered in his ear, “I’m back.”
“Just… give me a little more time.”
……
Elias Stone jolted awake, gasping for air.
He scanned his surroundings—home sweet home. The bookshelf was intact, the clock ticked steadily, and the calendar by his bed was still in place. Everything seemed normal, bathed in the soft glow of the morning sun filtering through the curtains.
His mind was foggy, as if assaulted by a multitude of distractions.
Elias rose and went through his usual routine, brushing his teeth and splashing his face with cold water.
The refreshing chill brought him back to his senses.
Looking into the mirror, he examined the handsome young man staring back—his almond-shaped eyes flickered with life, a hint of upward tilt softening his otherwise sharp features. Alongside his straight nose and defined jawline, there was a polished quality about him.
He took a moment to reassure himself that no lingering spirit energy clung to him.
It seemed, thankfully, to have just been a nightmarish dream.
Subconsciously, he touched the Charm of Longevity hanging around his neck—it remained chillingly cool to the touch.
Could it be that last night’s heat was just in his imagination?
After a brief tidy up, he headed downstairs.
In the driveway, he spotted a beige Honda. He opened the passenger door and slid into the seat.
At the wheel sat a young man with a buzzed haircut, looking sharp and alert. He blinked in surprise upon seeing Elias. “Whoa, what’s up with the face? Didn’t sleep well again last night?”
“Yeah,” Elias replied.
The young man’s name was Fiona Hawthorne, a longtime friend of Elias.
“Not to bring it up, but since I’ve known you, your sleep quality has been a disaster. You’re practically playing with fire. You really should see a therapist. If you have shadows haunting you, we can help you get past them. And how's that lady ghost of yours? You better rekindle that romance!”
“Help and heal? Yeah, right,” Elias said, rubbing his forehead. “It’s just an old issue. You know it’s nothing compared to when I was a kid.”
“Okay, okay, catch up on that sleep, will you?” Fiona pressed the accelerator, mumbling, “I’m so envious of your constitution. You’re up all night, yet you don't even have bags under your eyes. When I miss sleep, I could double as a panda at the zoo. Guess I have the bad luck of a national treasure but not quite the life of one!”
The day was beautiful, with a sky so blue it looked washed clean.
Having just passed his driving test, Fiona took his time navigating the streets at a leisurely pace. With little traffic and no rushing, Elias felt himself slip back into sleep, resting against the window.
Reaching downtown, they spotted a few parking spots. Fiona maneuvered, adjusting three or four times before finally settling in.
“You really need to work on your parallel parking. How’d you pass your driving test?” Elias teased.
“Just sit there and eat your dumplings,” Fiona huffed, adjusting the car once more.
“I bet you bought your license, didn’t you?”
“Shut it.”
Elias couldn’t help but chuckle, his eyes brightening.
Finally, Fiona parked successfully, and Elias almost drifted off again to dreamland.
They stepped out of the car and walked into a narrow alley, twisting and turning through the streets.
To the ordinary eye, this alley would seem like a dead end. But at the end, a solid wall vanished seamlessly to reveal tall office towers, their glass surfaces glimmering from the sunlight.
The members of the Society of the Blue Lantern were renowned Exorcists—legendary in their field, without question the top-tier Exorcist organization. Even the most brash would show some respect when meeting the Society of the Blue Lantern.
Inside, the layout resembled that of a typical office building.
It was eerily quiet; despite it being a workday, the spacious hall held no one, a chilling emptiness. However, once they stepped in, it felt as if countless eyes were watching them closely.
Elias approached the front desk. “I’m here to see Archon Cedric.”
The receptionist looked up at him, momentarily puzzled, “Do you have an appointment…?”
Recognition struck her, her surprise evident. “Oh! You can go right up. He’s on the top floor.”
In the elevator, Elias took his time adjusting the emerald insignia on his collar.
Wearing a crisp white shirt, the insignia glowed like a cat's eye against the fabric.
This signified his role as the Chief of the Society of the Blue Lantern.
With the insignia affixed, he now represented the Society.
He was the youngest chief in its history.
In the realm of tragedies, curses shadowed him, yet his brilliance seemed a compensatory gift from fate.
Stepping off the lift, he found himself before a single office on the top floor.

Chapter 5

Lord Cedric sat on the couch, brewing hot water for tea.
At nearly fifty, his hair was graying, and he had a portly figure, likely a sign of years of indulgence. As the tea leaves swirled in the cup, he smiled and said, “Come, let me know if my tea-making skills have improved.”
The two men settled in, each with a cup of tea in hand.
The kettle was made of purple clay, and the tea was Darjeeling, steeped with water at 90 degrees Celsius. He let the leaves sit for a moment before pouring the fragrant liquid into warm cups. Each sip was smooth, gently gliding across the tongue, infused with delicate aromas.
Elias Stone had drunk Lord Cedric's tea many times before.
Back when he first joined the Society of the Blue Lantern, Lord Cedric had taken a keen interest in him, often inviting him for heart-to-heart talks, always offering his favorite floral teas. Many sought to win Lord Cedric’s favor, presenting him with top-notch blends like Xinyang Maojian, Tieguanyin, and Dahongpao. Though not the greatest tea-maker, the quality of the leaves had always left a pleasant lingering taste.
As they finished their first round, Lord Cedric poured more tea.
He broke the silence. “Young Thomas, we need to discuss your transfer.”
Fiona Hawthorne’s expression shifted dramatically.
Elias replied, “Please, go ahead.”
Lord Cedric sighed. “The Society has decided to suspend you from your position as Chief until the investigation against you concludes.”
“Understood.”
“You're aware the Central South Division was just established, and most of the staff lack experience.”
“Right.”
“Although we’ve sent many seasoned members over, the pressure is immense. Having someone like you to lead them would be beneficial.”
“Sure.”
Lord Cedric inhaled deeply. “Young Thomas, the Society hasn't had much to deal with lately. You could go there and help train the team.”
Fiona's frown deepened.
Without realizing it, he had clenched his fists.
He knew Elias bore several fresh scars beneath his clothing.
The scars weren’t deep but were striking—all too visible. Just two years ago, during the Night of a Hundred Spirits, Elias had pushed himself to the limit to quell a chaotic uprising of spirits. One particularly nasty scar, marked by dark energy, ran across his shoulder, having taken nearly six months to heal. During that time, Fiona tended to his wounds daily.
Along with those, there were plenty of old scars, reminders of past battles. People were well aware of Elias's contributions and sacrifices over time, admiring him for it. This was precisely why no one dared to undermine his authority as Chief.
Now, Fiona could only feel a fire igniting inside him.
How could Lord Cedric say such a thing?
How could he.
His nails were nearly digging into his palms as he prepared to speak, but Elias raised a hand, stopping him gently.
Elias’s tone remained calm as he asked, “How long will I be there?”
Lord Cedric hesitated, clearly taken aback by Elias's willingness to cooperate. “It depends on the situation. Let's start with six months.”
Elias raised an eyebrow, displaying a cool, sarcastic grin.
It was an attractive yet sharp expression.
“They’re not really investigating me, are they? You already know the outcome. I haven't done anything wrong. My suspension is due to having ruffled too many feathers at the top, and my background doesn’t please them either. Initially, I was needed to handle the spirits; but with the Night of a Hundred Spirits just behind us, there’s no longer a reason for me to stay. What if I decide I don’t want to go to the Central South Division, what would you do then?”
Lord Cedric’s expression turned pale. “The investigation isn’t—”
“I’m aware,” Elias said, finishing his tea in one gulp. “So I’m resigning and accepting the investigation.”
He stood up. “Archon Cedric, your tea skills have indeed improved.”
Watching Elias stride toward the door, Lord Cedric noted his straight posture.
At the door, Elias paused to look back.
Having known him for so many years, Lord Cedric could see the youth’s features sharpening with age, his once boyish face now radiating charm—a moonlit glow.
A wave of guilt washed over Lord Cedric at that moment for reasons he could not quite grasp.
Elias stated plainly, “Thank you for your guidance over the years—though I’d love to say otherwise, Lord Cedric, you really are a fool.”
Lord Cedric, left speechless, could only watch.
Elias smirked, yanked off his collar pin, and tossed it aside. “Pick it up yourself.”
The pin rolled a few times on the floor.
Elias walked out without a backward glance.
…
Ten days later.
The afternoon sun blazed, filtering through the swaying leaves in a golden hue.
The moving truck rumbled forward as Fiona Hawthorne sat in the back, glancing at Elias Stone beside her.
He had just signed the documents to formally resign from his role at the Society of the Blue Lantern, his handwriting elegant, his fingers long, a faint scar visible on the back.
This scar was the result of an incident involving Lord Cedric—Elias had once saved him.
Cedric didn’t dare face Elias, sending an assistant instead to handle the paperwork, with a pot of flower tea sitting on the table.
The assistant mumbled nervously, “Um, Archon Cedric said to drink this tea before you leave. It’s this year’s finest.”
“No thanks,” Elias replied.
He feared that even sipping tea alongside a fool might dull his wits.
Upon arriving at their destination, the truck came to a halt.
Fiona hurriedly unloaded several boxes with the workers, finally commenting, “This move seems quite sudden, don’t you think?”
“I got a place on the second floor,” Elias said, pointing, “Just above this Healing Spa.”
“Why would you buy a house here? It’s so out of the way.” Fiona wiped sweat from her brow. “Hurry it up! It’s getting dark.”
“Alright.”
Throughout their journey, Elias’s demeanor remained normal.
However, Fiona could sense an undercurrent of gloom in him.
Who wouldn’t feel this way upon moving? More so, Elias had always held himself to a high standard.
Moving to a different place could be a good thing. Word travels fast on the street; it wouldn’t be long before others caught wind of his resignation and gossip would surely follow. He dreaded that Elias might fall into a pit of despair, so he tried to uplift him with subtle encouragements to not pay any mind to them.

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