Chapter 1277: Chapter 1277
While standing on tiptoe to search the bookshelf, Jenkins heard a carriage pass by in the rain. The sound of hooves splashing through puddles ceased next door. He blinked, set down the books he was holding, and crept to the window. Pressing his body against the wall, he parted the curtain with a single finger to peek outside and saw the carriage had stopped in front of his neighbor's house.
That wasn't in the direction of the Goodman's house, but Silver Flute Miss's. Three young women stepped out from the carriage, sharing an umbrella. They anxiously rang the bell on the gate, then pointed at the overflowing mailbox and exchanged a few words before rising onto their toes to peer into the yard.
Judging by the way they stood on their toes, all three strangers had studied dance. Jenkins suddenly recalled that during his first visit to his neighbor, Silver Flute Miss had mentioned she was considering opening a private dance class in her home. These three must be her students, though he'd never seen them before.
Their faint calls carried through the rainy spring night to Jenkins's listening ears, but Silver Flute Miss's door remained shut. With the rain coming down, the girls didn't linger. After confirming that no one was home, they returned to the carriage, penned a quick letter, and slipped it into the overflowing mailbox before the carriage departed with them.
"Strange. Why hasn't she taken in her newspapers and letters?"
Jenkins let the curtain fall, a flicker of doubt in his mind. He glanced up toward the second floor of the neighboring house, where Silver Flute Miss lay.
"She's clearly home... Come to think of it, when I got back to Nolan yesterday morning, wasn't she in that exact same spot? It looks like she hasn't moved at all... The position seems a little low, though. It's not like she's on a bed... more like she's lying on the floor..."
Realizing something was amiss, he peeked through the slit in the curtain at his neighbor's yard one more time before deciding to investigate.
First, he had the Star Spirit send the books to Ruen. Then he returned to his own home and slipped out the kitchen's back door into the yard. The rainy streets were deserted, illuminated only by the flickering, sallow glow of the gaslights.
"Ah, an anti-theft measure created by a ritual. Very cautious."
The back door was a no-go. He then tried the ground-floor windows, but each one was locked from the inside. Barring smashing them open, that route was also closed to him.
Finally, he made his way to the front door. He turned the handle, and the door swung open.
Jenkins entered the house in silence, using a flicker of flame to dry his damp clothes before turning to lock the door behind him.
Silver Flute Miss's house was just as quiet and still as his own, but the layout was identical. Moving through the darkness, Jenkins could find the stairs to the second floor even without any special aid.
The second-floor hallway was unsettlingly dark. Combined with the sound of the rain outside, it felt like a haunted house straight out of a horror story. A shiver ran down Jenkins's spine. He hurried to the bedroom door and pushed it open. At first glance, the bedroom was empty. He scanned it again—there was no one there.
Taking a deep breath, he let go of the doorknob and stepped into the room. He activated his Eye of Reality and scanned the space once more. The point of light representing Silver Flute Miss was right there, on the carpet at his feet.
Yet, to his ordinary sight, the carpet was bare. There weren't even any indentations, which meant Silver Flute Miss wasn't simply invisible.
"What in the world is going on?"
He wondered, bewildered. Crouching down, he reached out in front of him. After a few seconds, his fingers brushed against something solid—what felt like an arm. The very instant he made contact with the invisible limb, his vision suddenly flooded with light.
The yellow light wasn't particularly bright, but its sudden appearance, accompanied by a cold gust of wind, made Jenkins jump. He quickly looked up and saw that the curtains and glass of the window he was facing had vanished. The wooden frame was warped and crooked, and a thick cobweb was spun across the bottom-left corner.
Beyond the ruined window hung an enormous, bright yellow moon that seemed to be right before his eyes. It hung so close to the ground that Jenkins felt he could reach out and touch it.
He looked down at the stone statue of Silver Flute Miss, lying on a carpet so filthy it nearly blended in with the floor. He realized he must have returned to that decaying version of Nolan.
Suddenly, he heard a sound from behind. He spun around to see a corpulent, humanoid monster standing in the doorway, clutching a massive cleaver.
It was so tall it had to stoop to fit through the bedroom door. Its skin was black, just like the monster Jenkins had encountered a few days prior. It wore a thin, sleeveless shirt that was almost one with its skin, and a square helmet covered its head.
The helmet resembled a metal bucket, with no openings for eyes or a nose. It was bronze-colored and sharply angled, its long, flat surfaces covered in complex, repetitive intaglio patterns that were dizzying to look at.
A chain was attached to the handle of the cleaver, its length coiled around the butcher's arm. As the creature brandished the weapon, the jangling chain told Jenkins all he needed to know: this was an enemy.
The cleaver flew toward the crouching man. He raised his sword to parry. The two weapons crashed together in a shower of sparks, and the immense force, catching Jenkins off-balance, sent him tumbling to the ground.
He heard the rattle of the chain as the cleaver was yanked back, followed by heavy footsteps striding toward him.
Jenkins immediately rolled across the filthy carpet. The heavy cleaver slammed down where he'd been, the blade grazing his face as it splintered the floorboards. Unfazed, he used the momentum of his roll, planting a hand on the floor to vault back to his feet. As the corpulent butcher struggled to pull its weapon free, Jenkins lunged, thrusting his sword at its side.
But the creature's hide was incredibly thick; the thrust had little effect.
As the butcher turned with ponderous slowness, Jenkins circled with it. He tried for another heavy strike at its back, but the motion of his swing slowed him down, and the cleaver came whistling toward him.
He brought his sword up to his side to block, then used the recoil to launch another attack. This time, his blade struck the chain wrapped around the butcher's thick, black arm. Though the force of Jenkins's counter-attack sent the creature stumbling backward to the floor, it was unharmed.
The fall had left the butcher sprawled over Silver Flute Miss's statue, its hands braced on the floor, leaving its chest wide open. Jenkins seized the opportunity. He leaped into the air, gripping the hilt of the White Bone Holy Sword with both hands as he descended. With a roar, he plunged the blade deep into the creature's chest.
It let out a bestial howl and collapsed backward onto the floor, its arm thudding several times against the wood. The corpse quickly disintegrated into a cloud of ash-like dust and vanished, leaving nothing behind, not even its weapon.
Unconcerned by the lack of spoils, Jenkins strode to the bedroom door and peered out at the half-collapsed hallway. Once he was certain there were no other monsters, he turned back into the room to examine Silver Flute Miss's statue.
She was still alive. Through his Eye of Reality, he could see the points of light representing her abilities shining brightly. He guessed she was in some kind of forced state of suspended animation.
The statue, lying on the floor and coated in a layer of dust, must have formed recently; the dust on the other furniture was much thicker. She was curled up on her side, as if hiding from something, but her arm blocked her face, obscuring her expression.
He placed a hand on the statue's arm, closed his eyes, and relaxed his mind. He could easily sense the rich life force contained within the stone. As if by instinct, he began to guide that silent energy, coaxing it to flow through her petrified form. At the same time, he poured more energy from his own Life Source into the statue, merging it with the stagnant pool within her. The combined power began to surge through the stone, growing smoother with each passing moment.
The sound of cracking stone reached his ears, and Jenkins knew it was working. As he continued to channel his energy, the statue crumbled away inch by inch. Ten minutes later, the stone casing had vanished from her entire body, save for her feet. Get full chapters from NovelHub(.)net
Her consciousness was rapidly returning. When her dazed eyes fluttered open, the first thing she saw was the strange man crouching before her.
"I'm Mr. Candle. The one without a cat."
Only someone who had attended the last gathering would understand the reference, so Silver Flute Miss immediately knew who he was. Seeing what he was doing, she quickly offered her thanks.
"More than thanks, I need to know where we are and what happened to you."
Jenkins dusted off his hands and stood up. He watched the last of the stone flake away from her feet, then offered a hand to help her up. He glanced at the brilliant moon outside the window:
"Of course, we should probably find someplace safer."
"There are no safe places left," she replied. "If you killed the monster in the hall, this is probably as safe as it gets."
Silver Flute Miss was just as curious about how Jenkins had found her. She was showing her real face, and they were in her actual home, which meant Mr. Candle knew all her secrets.
In response to her unasked question, Jenkins shrugged, claiming he'd simply stumbled into this world by chance and happened to find her here. Silver Flute Miss clearly didn't believe in such coincidences, but she didn't press the matter.
As for the appearance of this bizarre, decaying version of Nolan, Silver Flute Miss actually knew the reason. She stood and took a deep breath, as if unaccustomed to the air, and began to explain her situation—and the one outside:
"Do you remember what I mentioned at Mr. Hood's last gathering?"