While Lumian sneezed, Franca swiftly took two steps forward and crouched beside the fake Ive's lifeless body.
With a delicate grip, she extinguished the flickering black flames that still clung to it.
"Thank goodness it hasn't burned too far, or the soul would have dissipated," Franca breathed a sigh of relief, straightening up. She reached into her pocket and retrieved a handful of powder that resembled the pitch-blackness of night.
Lumian stowed away the canister of stimulating gas and glanced at Franca, curiosity etched on his face.
"Are you planning to channel his spirit?"
In the recent battle, the fake Ive had displayed the strength of a Mid-Sequence Beyonder and wielded peculiar abilities. Lumian couldn't hold back, or the situation would have taken a perilous turn.
Franca nodded subtly, responding, "Indeed. Channeling a spirit now will yield significant results."
"And which entity do you intend to invoke?" Lumian asked casually.
