Chapter 1275: Chapter 1275
Magic Miss had no interest in Jenkins’s money, instead bringing the conversation back to the pirate king. She was already making preparations, but since she couldn’t yet be sure how many people she could rally, she needed to secure reliable allies.
Therefore, if Jenkins could promise to be there when the time came, she would tell him what the Misfortune Poem was right now.
“Of course, if you can bring along those ‘friends’ of yours, I might even be willing to divulge a few secrets that are better left unsaid.”
She was clearly referring to the Believers of Lies, those who followed the same path as “Mr. Candle.”
If Jenkins could actually summon such people, he would gladly do so, but it was all a fabrication.
“You don’t seem to have many qualms about working with people like us,” he remarked, his tone laced with sarcasm.
“And why should I? Your god is not an evil one, and you’ve never slaughtered innocents or committed heinous acts. You simply spread lies, don’t you?”
Jenkins feigned a moment of hesitation before agreeing to participate in Magic Miss’s expedition against Pirate King Femishue. True to her word, Magic Miss cleared her throat and began with a question:
“Have you ever heard of Kavendish the Mad Poet?”
“The very same. The Misfortune Poem is connected to him. Mr. Candle, I don’t know how much you know about that madman from nearly ten thousand years ago, but there is one fact you must understand first. Kavendish the Mad Poet and I shared a common faith.”
That was something Jenkins had not expected. He adjusted his posture, settling in for what promised to be a fascinating story.
“It’s a stain on our order’s history, but as I’m sure you understand, every organization inevitably produces a few... unconventional individuals. The Mad Poet was the greatest renegade in our history. During his time, he committed countless acts of madness, so much so that our god personally declared he had strayed from the faith and refused to acknowledge him as a believer.”
“Was it really that serious?” Jenkins asked, finding it hard to believe such a “minor issue” would warrant direct divine intervention.
“It certainly was. The Mad Poet was active at the very end of the 15th Epoch. In an already chaotic era, he sowed even more chaos and disaster. The number of deaths he caused exceeds the current permanent population of Nolan... and that’s not counting those without official citizenship.”
Magic Miss paused, allowing Mr. Candle a moment to process this. She watched his cat playing on the coffee table, its sharp claws attempting to peel an orange.
“To erase our order’s shame, my predecessors hunted him relentlessly at the close of the fifteenth epoch. As for this...”
Magic Miss gestured toward the stone slate on the table.
“This object is a replica of the Mad Poet Kavendish’s primary weapon during his later years—the Misfortune Poem. According to our order’s legends, the genuine article possessed the ability to draw power from disasters.”
“So the real Misfortune Poem is a numbered item?” Jenkins asked at once, confirming a long-held suspicion.
“No, that book wasn’t an item. It should be considered part of an ability. Think of the power you once used to turn people into gears—its manifestation was a miner’s lamp, wasn’t it? But that lamp itself was not a numbered item.”
The analogy was perfect; Jenkins understood instantly.
This was the sum total of the knowledge his promise had earned him. Yet, the most critical questions remained unanswered: why did the Tree House want to steal a useless replica, and why had he felt that strange sensation while creating the stone?
Realizing it would be far more efficient to get the answers from Magic Miss than to spend ages searching elsewhere, he took the initiative and offered to trade for the secrets she was holding back. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on NovelHub(.)net
“My brethren are all quite busy; they won’t be able to join the operation against Pirate King Femishue. You can name another price. Cash is acceptable, though if the sum is too large, I may need some time to procure it.”
Seeing his sincerity, and perhaps valuing their friendship, Magic Miss told Jenkins to show her what he could offer. Jenkins produced a root he had obtained from the sealed silver cube—the one that had a chance to grant a devourer an empty ability slot. To his surprise, Magic Miss accepted it as payment immediately, without any haggling.
“Don’t mistake this for greed, Mr. Candle. What I’m about to tell you is worth far more than what you’ve offered. The ability corresponding to the Misfortune Poem is a rare, unique power, meaning only one person can possess it at any given time. When the Mad Poet acquired it, he hadn’t yet been cast out by our god, and his madness hadn't reached the sensationalized levels of later accounts. The exact time and place he obtained this power are lost to history, but it is certain that most of his madness stemmed from this.”
Her expression grew serious as she once again tapped the stone slate.
“However, my order has preserved some records related to this dangerous ability. While researching the nature of unique abilities, I came across those files. That’s how I learned one of the conditions for acquiring it—one must possess a replica of the Misfortune Poem. The visual similarity, especially of these five depressions, must be over ninety-eight percent.”
“I see. What else? What other conditions are required to obtain that ability, and what kind of ritual is involved?”
Jenkins was intensely curious, but Magic Miss simply shook her head.
“Why would you think we would preserve such dangerous knowledge? Why would you assume the Mad Poet of old confided all his secrets to our order? And why would you believe that after nearly ten thousand years, we would still possess complete records? I’m sorry, Mr. Candle, but I’m afraid you won’t find those answers here.”
Perhaps misinterpreting his curiosity as a lust for terrifying power, Magic Miss’s demeanor cooled significantly. Still, when it came to the Mad Poet, she was willing to say a bit more.
Jenkins mentioned what Alexia had told him the day before about the poet’s death, and Magic Miss confirmed the account.
“That aligns with the records I’ve seen; he likely died in that manner. Did you know, Mr. Candle, that ever since the Mad Poet fell in the northern lands during the 15th Epoch, my order has maintained a presence there to prevent his corrupting influence from re-emerging? From the 15th Epoch to the 18th, it became a tradition. To this day, we still have people in the far north specifically assigned to this task.”
This served as a crucial reminder for Jenkins. After being transported north by Chocolate, he had met a companion in a Mysterious Realm who used divine abilities identical to those of Magic Miss.
It led him to suspect that the woman who called herself “Miss Glasses” was a member of the order of the God of Mystery and Rituals, tasked with patrolling Enchanters in the north. If that were true, her particular branch of the order might possess even more information about the Mad Poet.
Suddenly, the two separate mysteries—the poet’s strange machine and the Misfortune Poem—merged into one. The next logical step was to find Miss Glasses again and confirm whether she truly held the knowledge Jenkins sought.
Although Miss Glasses served under Dolores, Jenkins couldn’t be certain she would divulge everything she knew, given the sensitive nature of the topic.
He mentioned his plan to ask her fellow believer for information. Magic Miss nodded in understanding but explained that her order had no fixed tokens of identification. Members were scattered across the continent and typically only gathered once a year during midsummer to meet and exchange information.
The followers of the God of Ritual and Mystery were not a tightly-knit organization. They lived far and wide, and unless one happened to be nearby, actively searching for one was like finding a needle in a haystack.
With no other options, Jenkins decided to take a chance. Over dinner, he shared his findings with Alexia and Dolores. Dolores immediately offered to write to Miss Glasses, but Jenkins insisted it would be better to meet her in person.
That way, he could easily distinguish truth from lies.
Summoning Miss Glasses from Spa Town to Ruen would likely take two or three days. But at least the trail hadn’t gone cold, and Jenkins had the patience to wait.
After dinner, Jenkins summoned the unicorn. Together with Alexia, he took Dolores and Julia on a tour of the ice palace hidden deep within the snowy mountains.
Jenkins had made a point of acquiring extra spiritual lodestones in Ruen, preparing them according to Magic Miss’s instructions and leaving one within the palace to allow for instantaneous travel.
Dolores seemed absolutely enchanted with the place. The four of them chatted as they explored every corner of the palace, and Julia even suggested they stock a supply of non-perishable food there.
The interior of the complex was three times larger than it appeared from the outside, only slightly smaller than the Stuart royal palace in the heart of Ruen. If not for its extraordinary origins, Jenkins might have considered buying a plot of land and making the palace his home.
But neither his finances nor his circumstances would allow it. He would be leaving Ruen in a month, at which point he planned to leave the palace and its snowman servants to Dolores and Alexia. That way, no matter what the future held, they would always have a safe sanctuary.