Then, Aster Grant turned his head towards the direction of the voice.
The ghostly presence here slowly gathered.
Ultimately forming a vague, elderly phantom composed entirely of ghostly presence.
His figure was stooped, his face ancient, though it was merely a phantom.
Yet it imparted an immeasurable, as if merged with the vastness of the world, sense of depth.
Especially those eyes, seemingly cloudy, yet within their opening and closing, stars, moons, and suns appeared to perish within.
Aster Grant felt a slight shock in his heart.
Indeed, his prior guesses were not wrong.
This figure was the will of this world!
At this moment.
The phantom gazed with reassurance at Veridia, whose aura had calmed and whose eyes were clear.
Then his gaze landed on Aster Grant, bearing a complex emotion that was indescribable.
This world originally could not bestow its legacy to a Ghost Race with a contract with the Human Race.
But...
Now there's no other choice.
