Just as Roland speculated, Falken was gone.
In the backyard of the church, the old man was fast asleep on his bed with a smile.
The townspeople stood in front of the church. No one spoke. It was very quiet.
Only some sensitive women were secretly wiping their tears.
The villagers knew that Falken had been waiting for this day for a long time. It was every devout believer's wish to go to paradise.
But for the townspeople, they had lost a respected family member and a protector.
In the decades since Falken came to Red Mountain Town, he had treated the villagers' wounds for free. He even negotiated with the mayor to lower taxes so that the ordinary people wouldn't have such a hard time.
When Falken was around, that was life.
But now that he was gone, their life might be called survival.
The villagers were confused.
The mayor came, and the villagers made way for him.
Roland came, and the villagers made way for him again.
The mayor had a mustache and was a rather handsome middle-aged man. Leaning on his black cane, he looked at Falken with sorrow on his face.
Although he did not turn around, the mayor seemed to have sensed Roland's arrival. He asked gloomily, "Did he say anything to you before he left?"
Roland stood still and shook his head.
Looking at the peaceful smile on Falken's face, the mayor sighed and took out a wrinkled flower with seven petals from his pocket, before he put it on Falken's chest.
Many of the townsfolk had weird expressions on their faces when they saw the flower.
Roland did not notice their expressions. He was rather sad at this moment. Falken had helped him a lot in the past two months. He was sort of his guide after he entered this world. He did not expect that he would be gone so soon.
Dwelling in his sorrow, he did not notice the weird expressions on other people's faces.
Also, Roland felt that it was perfectly normal for the living to offer flowers to the dead.
However, he did not know that in Red Mountain Town in Hollevin, such flowers were only used by sons when they paid homage to their fathers. It was a tacit custom.
"Bury him," said the mayor casually.
Four young men walked forward and carefully lifted Falken into a white coffin that had been prepared.
Ever since Falken knew that he was going to die, he had prepared something like this beside his bed.
The white coffin was closed and lifted up. The crowd made way for it.
The burial site was in the backyard. Several young men had already dug a long pit there, and in front of the pit was a square stone tombstone.
The long white coffin was lowered into the pit. Some women desperately covered their mouths to prevent themselves from crying out loud.
The mayor looked up at the sky. He felt that his eyes were very dry. At a time like this, it would be best if it was raining. Even if it was cloudy, it would be fine. However, it was a sunny day now, and the sun was shining so brightly that it made one's head feel hot.
Then the mayor was almost blinded by the light.
This time, Roland did not follow them. Instead, he walked to the side and watched the townsfolk come from the foot of the mountain and fill the backyard of the church. More people stood in the yard of the church in silence.
Maybe it was because it was the first time that Roland had attended someone else's funeral, or maybe it was because it was a game, he found it unreal. He was obviously a little sad, but for some reason, he wanted to laugh.
After thinking for a moment, he suddenly realized why he wanted to laugh. It was because he saw Falken's peaceful smile. He was dead, but he was smiling so happily, as if he did not consider his own life a big deal. The old man was truly a mischievous man.
Then, he thought better of it. Since the dead did not feel death to be scary, there was nothing for him to be sad about as a living person. However, he was still rather upset that he would never see Falken again in this world. He felt lonely when he thought about that.
Heaving a long sigh, he was about to leave, when he saw a young man with brown hair and a white robe standing before him. The man smiled warmly and looked familiar. He even gave Roland a sense of intimacy, but Roland still subconsciously took two steps back.
Because the young man was transparent, he could vaguely see the forest far away through his shadow.
Was it a ghost? Or was it a stealth spell?
The young man chuckled. "What? You don't recognize me anymore?"
The voice was gentle and familiar … Then, Roland's eyes widened. He subconsciously looked back at the backyard of the church, where the coffin must've been buried. Then, he looked at the young man and asked uncertainly, "Falken?"
"That's me!" The young man nodded.
Roland looked around again, only to discover that nobody noticed Falken. Even when somebody glanced at him, they did not notice anything wrong.
"Ordinary people can't see me." The young version of Falken smiled. "Only those whose mental power is high enough can communicate with me."
"Are you dead or alive?" Roland subconsciously circled around Falken, full of curiosity. "Is this the legendary soul?"
"It depends on the perspective! For ordinary people, I'm already dead. Because they can't see me, they can't communicate with me, and I can't even appear before them. There's no trace of Falken in their lives anymore. " Falken pointed at Roland's head. "But for professionals like you, I'm still alive, except that my life form has changed."
Falken did have a point. Roland also felt that the guy must've been alive and turned into a pure spirit. Seeing that the acquaintance didn't really disappear, the little bit of depression in his heart also dissipated.
Then, he asked, "What's your next plan? Are you going to wander in the village as a soul? "
"I'll go to paradise." Falken smiled bitterly. "I remember that I told you that."
"But …" Roland looked around. "How?"
"The envoy of the goddess will pick me up. The gate to paradise will be opened by then. It's almost time."
Roland subconsciously nodded. "Okay."
As a matter of fact, he did not know what Falken was talking about at all.
"Before I go, I think I should tell you something." With a mocking smile, Falken said, "Is your magic practice not going well recently?"
Roland nodded. Language Proficiency was truly a headache for him.
"Mages are very different from Warlocks and Priests," Falken explained. Falken explained, "Your spells are based on your understanding of magic elements, so you have a much higher demand on magic than we do. Under normal circumstances, Mages have to wait until they are at least Elites to use level-two spells. You're not strong enough yet, but you're already familiar with level-two spells. It's already very impressive. "
"Then what should I do?" asked Roland.
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