Chapter 126: Chapter 126

After a moment's hesitation, old Mr. Smith turned and walked through the open bronze door. About three minutes later, he emerged carrying a red metal box.

The box bore no decorations, but raised metal ridges, like blood vessels, covered its entire surface. On the front was a copper clasp with no lock, currently bound tightly with a piece of wire.

"Mr. Williamette, you must absolutely not open this box. It's called 'The Soul Collector's Soul-Collecting Casket.' If it's opened indoors, away from sunlight, the soul of the nearest intelligent being—including the person holding it—will be sucked inside. It's practically a weapon with a lethal effect, so be extremely careful on your way."

Jenkins nervously took the box, discovering its surface was frighteningly cold. At the same time, faint thumping sounds came from within, as if something was trapped inside.

"Do you know where the Hysende Estate is?"

Mr. Schleich, leaning against the ochre wall, asked anxiously.

"The one near the City Pet Management Center?"

He turned, picked up his cane, and was about to leave when Mr. Schleich called out to him again.

"Wait, have you learned any divine arts?"

He groaned. "The demon used a bloody method to transform the environment in that area. Anyone who has learned a divine art can pass through normally; otherwise, they'll suffer continuous damage from a strange energy. Wait, do you have any empty bubbles?"

Jenkins did a quick calculation. A normal Level 0 gets three, and a Level 1 gets one more, making four. He gained another from his first Mysterious Realm, so the Church knew he could possess a total of five abilities.

His known abilities were Contact Healing, Simple Boxing, Flexible Legs, and Disease Curse—four in total. He could learn one more.

After a quick mental tally, he replied.

"Keeper of Secrets, this is an emergency! I request special authorization to allow Mr. Williamette to learn a divine art."

Jenkins immediately interjected, "Doesn't the Church have other Enchanters? They could help!"

"Impossible. During a Church-wide lockdown , no one is permitted to leave their post!"

Mr. Smith replied, his brow furrowed in a frown.

"Mr. Williamette's contributions have been extraordinary. Normally, he would be permitted to learn any divine art he wishes."

"So what's not normal now?"

Jenkins asked on behalf of Schleich, who had turned deathly pale, perhaps due to some lingering side effect.

"Everything is normal now, but the ritual for learning a divine art requires a week of preparation by the choir and the clergy. It's a large-scale ceremony, not something the three of us can perform on our own." Thıs text ıs hosted at N0veI.Fiɾe.net

"I'm talking about that one—the simplest, most basic divine art, taught by the Sage!"

Schleich exclaimed, and a look of realization dawned on Mr. Smith's face.

Both men assured Jenkins that after this incident, if he no longer wanted the ability, Mr. Smith, in his capacity as a Keeper of Secrets, would petition the Holy See for a sacred relic to erase it.

But even the simplest ritual required many materials.

Jenkins declared, reaching under his shirt to unpin a small pouch of materials he carried just in case.

"A torn page from an old book, silver blessed by a bishop, an ornament worn by a devout believer for over ten years, ritual chalk..."

Jenkins asked as he watched Mr. Smith lay out the items one by one.

"It will do. We're in the church's catacombs right now, an environment that lets us bypass the need for the core material—a sanctified quill. Now, listen to me. For the ritual, you need to..."

Golden motes of light appeared smoothly before Jenkins's eyes. Carrying his cane and the box, he set off. Chocolate was left in the care of the Church, but naturally, the cat slipped away the moment Jenkins was gone.

Outside, the sky had grown completely dark, but the fog still hadn't dispersed.

Jenkins had no choice but to take out his spiritual candle for light, but even after running for a long time, he couldn't find a carriage.

Just as he was nearing the edge of the city, he encountered a squad of Night Watchers from the Church of the Unlit Moon. Somehow, they recognized him as a Scribe and warned him that the entire city was under curfew tonight. A riot had broken out in the factory district.

A genuine riot, unrelated to the demon. The "Air Quality Monitoring and Protection Act" had been delayed for at least half a year due to conflicts of interest among the nobility, industrial capitalists, and other parties.

In those six months, at least a hundred workers in Nolan City had died from lung diseases. The workers' discontent had been simmering for months, and it finally boiled over this evening, triggered by a trivial, chance incident.

Enchanters were involved, and now the main forces of the Church of Ocean and Exploration and the Universal Star Church were engaged. It was even rumored that three Level 7 unregistered Enchanters had appeared.

Meanwhile, the matter of the demon was left to the Church of Knowledge and Books and the Church of Death and End. The remaining followers of the Unlit Moon were working with City Hall to monitor the city and prevent troublemakers from taking advantage of the chaos.

After bidding farewell to the Night Watchers, Jenkins jogged all the way out of the city. According to the carriage driver, there were three roads to the estate: left, center, and right. The left road was the shortest but also the most difficult, passing through a forest. The middle road was the longest but easier to travel. The right was a main road with no drawbacks other than the darkness; it was the one he and Chocolate had taken to the pet center.

He hurried toward the right road, but after only a few steps, he saw a carriage stopped ahead. A middle-aged man with a severely burned face sat on the driver's board, holding an oil lamp. The carriage's dark, gaping doorway faced Jenkins.

"Care for a ride, friend?"

he asked calmly, his accent strange.

His heart lurched. A familiar sense of dread washed over him.

In the blink of an eye, the horse, the man, and the carriage were all glowing with a black light.

"Dammit, whenever I'm in trouble, I run into you people! Sage preserve me!"

He fled, grumbling, but the driver didn't pursue him. Jenkins darted onto the middle road.

Again, he hadn't run far before the thunder of hooves echoed from behind him.

"Young man, don't take this road."

The old knight, dressed like a cowboy, tugged on his reins, and his old, thin horse came to a halt. Behind him, the black-clad knights also stopped, one after another.

"I have an urgent delivery to make."

He recognized them as the knights from the Church of Death and End, the same ones he'd seen riding at a gallop down Fifth Queen's Avenue.