In the dim corridor, despite the unchanging temperature, an icy gust swept through, sending shivers down the spine.
Lumian, who had cleared his mind to restore his spirituality, snapped back into attention. He examined the tombs on both sides, his demeanor unaffected by the sudden disturbance.
His initial urge was to reach into his pocket and grasp Mr. K's finger. Yet, he held back, mindful of the unfamiliar territory that was the Southern Continent. Mr. K might not sense the use of his finger, so Lumian suppressed his instinct.
Franca reacted swiftly too. A small mirror materialized in her palm. Jenna, less experienced, didn't grasp the scene's significance, but her instincts told her it wasn't a positive development.
It was akin to the spooky tales told in bar dance halls to frighten young girls!
