As soon as Alan's words fell, a chilly breeze swept through the air as if to echo his sentiment. It whipped Blanche's long hair into disarray and made her shiver involuntarily.
"You should leave. This place… isn't suitable for the living to linger in."
Alan issued the cold dismissal without emotion. Blanche, wisely choosing not to argue, quietly left the area without a word.
Once she was gone, Alan slowly made his way deeper into the cemetery, stopping before the largest gravestone. He sat down at its base, gazing at the words carved solemnly into the stone:
"Here lies Gayle, a devoted Headmaster and a great mentor in the magical arts."
Alan took out a silver flask and poured all its contents onto the ground before the grave.
Then, he pulled out a second bottle, raised it to his lips, and took several large gulps.
Hiccup...
