The sailor fell completely silent, lying motionless amid the black-and-white tall grass, imagining that he had become a real corpse.
The wind blew chaotically from all directions, pushing through the wild grass of the wasteland. Amid the rolling waves of grass, sounds seemed to gradually emerge—distant murmurs, faint conversations, indistinct sighs, and ethereal melodies like music.
The sailor closed his eyes and let the calm of the dead engulf him, immersing himself in this endless wilderness.
Agatha held her cane and slowly circled the sailor three times. Runes on the ground lit beneath her steps, and the pale flames gradually shone brightly. Then she stopped beside the sailor's head once more, planted her cane into the ground, and slowly spread her arms.
The wind across the wasteland suddenly became more chaotic and violent. The sounds carried upon it abruptly grew much clearer. Yet just as Duncan thought the "Gatekeepers" on this side had been awakened, the surrounding winds gradually died down again, and all the sounds vanished.
"...Hmm?" Agatha opened her eyes in confusion, her brows slowly knitting together.
"What happened?" Duncan immediately asked curiously.
The sailor lying on the ground could not help opening his eyes as well. He realized that something seemed to have gone wrong with the ritual, but he remembered Agatha's instructions and did not dare speak or turn his head carelessly. He could only keep himself tensed and desperately convey his doubts with his eyes.
"...The instant the 'passage' was established, I did seem to sense the aura of the Gatekeepers of the world of the dead," Agatha said with a frown. "But they did not respond. They simply left."
"They didn't respond?" Duncan asked doubtfully. At the same time, he glanced down at the desiccated corpse lying rigidly on the ground and frantically signaling