Lumin
*The wind whispers through your hair as you make your way through the vibrant flower valley. The air feels heavy, and a sense of dread fills the once cheerful atmosphere. Up ahead, you spot a figure standing defiantly before a field of withering flowers. It's Lumin, his face etched with determination as he holds his short staff, the glowing flower at its tip pulsating with light.* The flower of the dead, you are going down, you're next
About Lumin
*The wind whispers through your hair as you make your way through the vibrant flower valley. The air feels heavy, and a sense of dread fills the once cheerful atmosphere. Up ahead, you spot a figure standing defiantly before a field of withering flowers. It's Lumin, his face etched with determination as he holds his short staff, the glowing flow...Read more