"I think we'd better see if there are any acquaintances—no, familiar ghosts," Sam said to Catholic. Standing at the door all the time seemed a little silly.
Soon, they saw a familiar ghost: Overton, the former friar of Britain, who was chatting with a knight with a sword lodged in his forehead.
Upon seeing Sam and the others, Overton quickly floated over and said, "I heard Nick say that you helped him a lot with this banquet, so I want to thank you as a member of Edinburgh."
The friar was about to leave after thanking them when he noticed Sam and Catholic looking dazed as they stared at the ghosts in the room. Patting his forehead, he floated back and said, "I think you may not know everyone. Let me introduce you to a few interesting people."
After speaking, he led them to the knight he had just been talking to and introduced him: "This is Oden Smith the Brave. He held a stronghold for three days during the first goblin rebellion until reinforcements arrived. But just as he was about to win, he was ambushed by a goblin crossbowman during the pursuit."
"Wait, I know you," Catholic said. "I read about you in Mirror for Aid. They described you as the perfect embodiment of the courage and tenacity of wizards at that time."
"Really?" The knight's ghost subconsciously touched the sword in his head. "People still remember my story? That's great! I've been haunting an abandoned castle in Scotland for centuries. News doesn't travel well there."
Overton continued introducing them to several ghosts, all of whom had played significant roles in history. Some had even been key figures in major historical events like Oden Smith.
These ghosts were particularly interested in Catholic, who respected and acknowledged their achievements. They eagerly shared their stories with her. Catholic, excited to receive firsthand historical accounts, pulled out a notebook and began taking notes.
Left out of the conversation, Sam glanced around the room, feeling bored. His eyes landed on a long table at the other end, covered in a black velvet tablecloth.
Neatly placed on the table were dozens of plates, each covered by a silver lid. It seemed Nick was planning a surprise.
A few ghosts stood at the table, curiously discussing why Nick had covered the plates. After all, the Ghost's Banquet had never done such a thing before.
At that moment, a figure suddenly emerged from under the table.
"Ha! Hogwarts kid. What are you doing here?"
It was Dr. Zombie Bruce, the only ghost in color among all the others.
"I did Nick a favor, so he invited me to the party," Sam replied.
"I think you're bored at this party. Let me liven things up for you!" Bruce grinned mischievously, grabbing a corner of the tablecloth as if about to yank it down.
But just as Bruce was about to pull, a hoarse voice sounded behind him.
"What interesting thing? Can you tell me?"
Bruce froze. Trembling, he stammered, "M-my lord, I wasn't doing anything! You have to believe me!"
Ian Bell, the Bloody Barrow, gripped Bruce by the neck and spoke in his deep, rasping voice. "Finally found you. Nick asked me to keep an eye on you today. After all, this is his big night, and he doesn't want you ruining it. I don't want you bringing shame to Hogwarts either. Now, you'll sit with me over there."
With that, Ian Bell dragged a deflated Bruce away.
Nick appeared from the crowd. "It looks like your companion enjoys this party as much as you do."
Sam followed Nick's gaze and saw Catholic, now fully immersed in her role as a historian, furiously jotting notes in her notebook. A circle of ghosts surrounded her, animatedly recounting their stories.
"It is interesting," Sam admitted, not just being polite.
Seeing so many ghosts at once was a rare opportunity. Observing this state of existence—hovering between life and death—could greatly enhance his understanding of life magic.
"Alright, I think it's time for me to speak. See you later!" Nick floated toward the stage.
As soon as Nick stepped up, the sound of a hunting horn echoed through the room.
Twenty ghostly horses galloped through the wall, each carrying a headless rider. All eyes turned toward them.
The horses halted in the middle of the dance floor, and the lead rider, holding his severed head under his arm, dismounted.
He lifted his head high, scanning the room, drawing cheers from the crowd of ghosts.
Spotting Nick, the rider smirked and shoved his head into Nick's hands. "Nick! How are you? Is your head still hanging on?"
Nick, unfazed, lifted his own head off and waved it in response, causing another round of gasps from the audience.
With a laugh, he clapped the Headless Horseman on the shoulder. "Thanks for asking! Now, will you finally let me join the Headless Hunters, Patrick?"
Patrick, Nick's old rival, had clearly come intending to humiliate him. But Nick had prepared for this moment, countering him at every turn.
Defeated, Patrick resorted to causing a distraction. He and his fellow Headless Hunters began playing a game of headers, tossing their heads to one another. The audience quickly turned to watch, entertained.
Nick tried to regain their attention, but his dry speech was no match for the spectacle of flying heads.
Sam, noticing this, approached Nick and whispered, "Sir, I think it's time for dinner."
"Yes, yes! How could I forget?" Nick suddenly remembered. He signaled to Ian Bell, who leaned over and whispered to Bruce.
Bruce waved his hands, and the silver lids covering the plates on the table shot into the air, stacking neatly in a corner.
An ethereal scent—different from any normal food—filled the basement classroom.
Many ghosts drifted toward the table, but hesitated. They could see the food, but they weren't sure what to do with it.
Encouraged by Catholic, Oden Smith stepped forward first. He reached out, took a large chunk of meat from the roasted whole lamb, and put it into his mouth.
The moment he tasted it, his expression froze. Then, as if possessed, he began devouring the meat with frantic urgency.
The sight intrigued the other ghosts, and soon, they all rushed forward to grab food.
Nick, holding a barrel of wine, moved along the table, pouring drinks for the guests.
Patrick, embarrassed that no one was paying attention to his games anymore, eventually gave in and joined the crowd at the dining table.
It seemed that, no matter the world, the law of true fragrance was universal.
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