Chapter 129: Chapter 129

Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump! Thump!

A relentless thumping echoed from within the box. Based on its position, young Wellington must have been the closest to it.

A white, spectral form drifted from the man's body. It struggled for a moment before sinking into the container, and then the Soul Box sealed shut.

"A truly exceptional demon always keeps a spare soul on hand. It's useless to fight a demon with a cursed trinket of its own kind," he jeered.

"The Church will not spare you," Bevanna stated calmly.

"Your flesh is mine," a sickly sweet female voice giggled from the dark shadow.

"I will slaughter you all," a cold male voice declared.

Everyone froze. Standing before the open doors was a man clad in a black robe.

He had black hair, black eyes, and sallow skin, yet a brilliant golden light radiated from within him. Though he stood in darkness, he seemed bathed in a spotlight at center stage. Bizarre, divine, magnificent, profane—a host of conflicting sensations emanated from his very being.

"A Saint... how can it be?"

Young Wellington cried out in alarm. All pretense of elegance gone, he scrambled to his feet and leaped for the window.

"Blasphemous Creation!"

The words were in a language never heard, invoking a power unknown. Instantly, both the dark shadow and Wellington collapsed as green vines erupted from the void, ensnaring them. The vines shuddered, their absorption relentless, not even faltering as black flames licked at their surface.

Jenkins, reveling in this state of boundless power, hadn't forgotten his purpose. He mentally shelved the chaotic knowledge gained from absorbing divinity, deciding to decipher it later. Draped in his black robe, he moved to Miss Mikhail and the others.

"How can I save them?"

The moment the thought crossed his mind, a significant portion of his divine power burned away.

"Ah, so this is the taint of profane knowledge. I just need to draw it out."

He activated the dark ability again, focusing on one of the young men. Green vines drew the black, cursive marks from the man's face, but as an ethereal coin materialized, the man's life expired.

He activated it again, targeting another person...

By the third person, Jenkins had finally gained full control of the ability. He took a moment to extract the marks from the faces of all the survivors before turning his attention back to the demons.

They weren't dead. They lay on the ground as forms of smoldering black smoke, just as Papa Oliver had once described: black hair, black eyes, dark skin, the heavy stench of sulfur, and curved horns sprouting from their heads. It was a far cry from the handsome form of Jenkins's own soul.

A few coins lay beside the demons.

"I thought you'd be humanoid, perhaps even look something like me. I didn't expect... this."

In his divine state, Jenkins was not as omnipotent as he'd imagined; he hadn't gained any new, special abilities. Though it felt crude, he decided to simply reach out and strangle the two demons. But just as he did, specks of white light emerged from the black smoke, coalescing before his eyes.

They formed into a small boy, his body radiant with white light, kneeling on one knee amid the bloodstains on the floor.

"My Lord, please forgive them."

The boy looked up, his gaze fixed on Jenkins with pure reverence.

"I am willing to offer my soul to atone for their sins."

The boy spread his arms wide, his eyes filled with a pleading light.

"Please, with my love, redeem these two sinners." Follow current novels on novel⸺fire.net

The boy rose to his feet, thrusting out his chest.

"They are the Twin Demons of Destiny. The world needs them."

The boy opened his arms, closed his eyes, and tilted his head back.

"My Lord, why are you so harsh, so..."

"Once one becomes a demon, there is no turning back. A demon is incapable of kindness. You aren't a demon of destiny. You are a demon of love."

"Your selfish love created demons that have ravaged multiple epochs; your selfish love got yourself killed and killed others; your selfish love..."

He was running out of things to say.

"The twins devoured your power, yet you did not disappear. I don't care to know why, nor do I care if you planned this from the beginning. I'm even less willing to guess if this is yet another conspiracy..."

"So you are evil after all, my Lord!"

The boy, radiating a soft white light, summoned a dinner knife from the table and lunged at Jenkins. With a deft countermove, Jenkins wrested the blade from him and plunged it into the boy's forehead. Golden divinity fused with Jenkins's own strange power, pouring into the knife. The motes of light representing his [Contact Healing] and [The Unknown Path] abilities trembled in unison.

With a look of hatred and astonishment, the boy stared at Jenkins in disbelief before disintegrating into nothing. Jenkins gazed at the dinner knife in his hand. On its silver surface, patterns of purple, black, and gold slowly began to emerge.

A red spiritual aura seeped from the knife, growing brighter by the moment. This was the first time Jenkins had witnessed a mundane object transform into an Extraordinary item.

Because he had killed the boy? Because it had been wielded by him?

He didn't know. Instead, he tossed the knife in front of Bevanna, who had kept her eyes closed the entire time. Then, while she was distracted, he scooped up the coins from the floor.

"Use this to kill them."

He didn't have much divine power left. He would leave the demons to her. That was enough for one day.

"Thank you, Saint," the woman said, her voice trembling.

Jenkins shook his head and walked toward the grand floor-to-ceiling window. The red and blue twin moons still hung in the sky, and below, on the lawn, a crowd of Enchanters had gathered.

"Perhaps I should make a grand exit."

As the thought crossed his mind, he gazed at the eight motes of light representing his abilities. When his eyes fell upon [Psychography], his Creation Pencil began to tremble.

The young man with black hair and black eyes raised his hand and gave a gentle push, opening the window.

A solid black cat leaped out of the darkness and settled obediently on Jenkins's shoulder.

He smiled. In the void before him, vertical black lines etched themselves into the air. The lines joined, transforming from points to planes, from planes to solid forms, until a stone staircase leading to the sky slowly materialized.

The man with the cat ascended the celestial staircase, starlight gathering around him as the sacred chant lingered in the air. With the stars as his backdrop, he walked across the heavens, the steps behind him vanishing as new ones formed before him.

The Enchanters below could only stare, dumbfounded at the myth made manifest. No one spoke a word, not until the chant faded completely and the Saint vanished among the stars.