I Loaded the Mysticism Panel

Ghouls lack intelligence.

All the memories, personality, and emotions that once belonged to the host are gone. All that remains is the most basic predatory instinct.

They also feed on life force. Their Strength far surpasses that of an ordinary person, and they have an extremely high resistance to physical damage.

Severing an arm won’t impede its movement, and even piercing its heart won’t make it stop.

In the danger Levels of the Mysterious Side, Ghouls are classified as the lowest tier.

But Richard remembered the note at the end of Appendix C very clearly:

”The ’lowest tier’ designation is merely a relative comparison among us Practitioners. To an ordinary person, even the lowest-tier Evil Beings represent an unsolvable catastrophe.”

The souls of those killed by Evil Beings cannot enter the normal cycle of the Spirit Realm.

The residual Etheric pollution at the site of death will Anchor the soul in place, making it unable to leave.

Appendix C had a specialized term for this—*Vox Mortis*, the Voice of the Dead.

Unlike lingering souls, which possess a high degree of self-awareness, a Vox Mortis does not.

A Vox Mortis is like a video playing on a loop. The fear, pain, and anger from the moment of death are etched into the Ether Field, creating a persistent source of interference.

They are not conscious and cannot be communicated with, but they can affect the minds of the living.

If what Warren said was true, then the remains of a Ghoul and several Vox Mortis were Sealed beneath the foundation.

That would make the area beneath the athletic field a small supernatural contamination zone.

”Man, what do you think?” Warren leaned in, bumping him with his shoulder.

”Newspaper accounts are usually inaccurate,” Richard said. ”There might be discrepancies in the details, but the core event is likely true. The transcript your cousin found is more reliable.”

”You believe in ghosts?” Mason interjected.

”I believe some things aren’t easily explained.”

Warren chuckled, stuffed the photocopies back into his pocket, and got up to pour some tea.

Nearby, Grey glanced at Richard.

Throughout the entire story, everyone else had reacted with fear, curiosity, or disbelief.

Richard alone was quiet, lost in thought.

......

After school that day, Richard returned home, closed his bedroom door, and began to brainstorm.

’The most crucial question right now is: What provoked them?’

’The Seal has held for over forty years. Without external factors, the Vox Mortis inside should be in a state of decay.’

’They have no source of energy. They should only be getting weaker and weaker, until they eventually dissipate completely.’

He saw the Copper Pendant on his desk and suddenly thought of the Divination Disc that Warren had brought.

’Before I drained the Divination Disc, Warren carried it in that cloth bag across half the campus for a whole day.’

’The bag offered no protection from Ether; it was just a piece of plain burlap.’

’If the Divination Disc leaked even a minuscule amount of Ether on that trip, it would have been food for the Vox Mortis.’

’For a Vox Mortis that’s been Sealed away for decades, constantly starving... a single wisp of leaking Ether within its Perception range would be enough to trigger a reaction.’

’After getting that brief ”taste,” they would have become active again.’

’I drained the Divination Disc, preventing a larger leak.’

’But before I absorbed it, the minuscule leakage during that walk might have already been enough.’

’Then again, maybe it’s completely unrelated, and I’m just overthinking it.’

’Seals have a lifespan. Maybe it just reached its time to weaken, and the things inside began to stir. The two events could just be a coincidence.’

He didn’t have enough information to make a judgment, so he had to set the thought aside for now.

There was another matter that had been weighing on his mind, one he hadn’t had a chance to verify yet.

’So far, I’ve only obtained Available Points from three things: the Copper Pendant, the Divination Disc, and the Sphinx Oil Lamp from Clement Antiques Store.’

’The three items had one thing in common.’

’They were all aged artifacts, and they all contained remnants of Extraordinary Power.’

’But there’s one question I still haven’t figured out: can I absorb Ether remnants from anywhere, or does it have to be through the medium of an antique?’

’If it’s the former, then I should be able to acquire Points in any environment where Ether is diffused in the air.’

’If it’s the latter, then my ability has a clear limitation:’

’I have to find and make contact with an antique containing remnants of Extraordinary Power to gain Points.’

’The answer to this question would directly determine my future strategy for acquiring Points.’

’Unfortunately, there’s no way to verify it right now... unless I could go to a place with a significantly higher Ether concentration than normal and test it.’

’Like... the basement.’

He shook his head, pushing the thought to the back of his mind.

......

The next day, after history class ended, Mr. Hutton called out to Richard as he was about to leave.

”Richard, stay behind for a moment.”

The sounds of footsteps and laughter in the hallway gradually faded away.

Mr. Hutton waited for the figure of the last student to disappear around the corner before he stood up and closed the classroom door.

He walked back to the lectern, perching on its edge. The unlit pipe in his hand slowly twirled between his fingers.

”The story about the haunted basement has been going around school. You’ve heard it.”

It wasn’t a question.

”I’ve heard.”

”And the story your friend Warren told, about what happened fifty years ago—do you believe it?”

”I believe half of it.”

”Which half?”

”I believe the part about something being sealed down there.”

Richard chose his words carefully, deciding not to hold back.

”Ghouls and Vox Mortis being Sealed in the old foundation beneath the athletic field would explain the recent anomalies in the basement. But the details in Warren’s story, like the phrasing in the newspapers, are usually exaggerated.”

Mr. Hutton’s eyebrow twitched. He noted that Richard hadn’t used words like ”ghosts” or ”monsters.”

His fluent use of terms like ”Ghoul,” ”Vox Mortis,” and ”Seal” showed that the boy was genuinely interested in Mysticism and had clearly been studying it.

He passed the pipe from one hand to the other, slowly turning it.

”Richard, there is indeed a Seal beneath the foundation of this school.”

”What’s sealed inside is largely consistent with what Warren said: the remains of a Ghoul, and several Anchored Vox Mortis.

The textile mill was shut down for good because of it. The land lay abandoned for over a decade before Greenwood acquired the site during its expansion.”

”The Seal was placed by professionals forty-three years ago. It’s made of a Silver Bottom Engraving and Holy Water Sealing Wax, so it’s quite sturdy.”

”But it’s not permanent.”

Richard understood what he meant. ”It needs to be reinforced periodically.”

Mr. Hutton nodded.

”Correct. Someone needs to inspect and reinforce the Seal at regular intervals.

The Silver Bottom Engraving fades over time, and the Holy Water Sealing Wax slowly degrades in the damp underground environment.

Without regular Maintenance, the Seal’s effectiveness diminishes year by year.”

He took a pocket watch from his pocket, glanced at it, then snapped it shut.

”I go to reinforce it once a year, right around the start of winter.

This year, the situation is a bit unusual. The Vox Mortis within the Seal have become more active than in previous years, which you’ve probably deduced from recent events.”

”I’m planning to take care of it this Friday night.”

The old man put away his pipe, his tone as casual as if he were talking about fixing a leaky faucet this Friday night.

”Want to come along and take a look?”