Chapter 1375: Chapter 1375

Pushing aside the reeds, Jenkins was still stunned by the dried blood spattered across the plants and the ground, even after hearing from the tavern owner about the gruesome state of the three discovered bodies. It was hard to imagine the torment the victims had suffered before they died. No wonder the incident had caused such a panic in the small town.

The bodies of the three victims were all found near the town's entrance, though the motive remained unclear. The local police had already thoroughly examined the crime scene, leaving behind very little valuable information for Jenkins.

"So, I might as well try a séance..."

He murmured, then eagerly took out the White Bone Holy Sword.

A long time ago, Jenkins had owned a Ouija board, but it was destroyed after he mistakenly channeled the unborn scion of an Evil God. He had since learned about spiritualism, and Papa Oliver had told him that such rituals, which casually connected with souls, were extremely dangerous. For this reason, the Legacy Sage Church discouraged their study.

But Jenkins had many ways of acquiring rituals, and plenty of his friends were well-versed in séances. Not to mention, since obtaining this sword, he had gained a vast amount of knowledge about necromancy. He was naturally familiar with spiritualism, though he had never attempted it himself.

"Might as well give it a shot," he thought. "The worst that could happen is the summoned spirit goes insane, turns malevolent, and attacks me. I promise I'll purify it. It'll be fine."

Muttering to himself, he set the cat down on the riverbank pebbles to stand watch.

He rolled up his trousers, waded through the mud deep into the thicket of reeds, and in the area most saturated with blood, used the White Bone Holy Sword to trace a circle. Then, using the blade like a pen, he patiently carved runes both inside and outside the circle.

"Dust to dust, earth to earth, spirit of the past, soul of the departed, answer my call..." Latest content publıshed on NoveIꜰire.net

He chanted as he activated the ritual he had drawn. Perhaps it was because he was holding the White Bone Holy Sword, which greatly increased the success rate of necromantic rituals, but he actually succeeded on his first try. As the incantation was clearly spoken, the blurry shadow of a man appeared before him.

This wasn't a soul, merely a spiritual remnant. Jenkins's ritual was too basic to summon a spirit that had already passed on.

He asked impatiently, but the tattered spirit showed no reaction.

"Oh, right. Spirits can't hear voices during a séance. I need to..."

He pricked his finger with a small knife, dipped his fountain pen into a mixture of his blood and ink, and wrote the question on a slip of paper. Then he lit it and tossed it at the man's feet.

The burning paper danced in the air, leaving only ashes behind. The ashes landed on the uneven mud, piecing together a short phrase:

Although he hadn't gotten the answer he wanted, receiving a reply at all proved the séance was a resounding success. The victim being an ordinary person and the scene remaining undisturbed were contributing factors, but it also showed that Jenkins had quite a talent for such rituals.

"Do you have any clues about the person who killed you?"

He burned another slip of paper.

"I didn't see his face... It was a man, taller than me, wearing a ring with a black gem on his right hand... He killed me... I'll never see Martha again..."

This time, the reply was exceptionally long. As the words formed, the spiritual remnant slowly turned from transparent to black.

He was beginning to transform into a malevolent spirit.

"I still have a few questions. Like, what were you doing out here at night? Can you answer that first?"

Jenkins spoke while carefully backing away. The moment he stepped out of the outermost circle he had drawn with his sword, the black figure at the center let out a bone-chilling shriek.

Its once blurry face sharpened in an instant, twisting into a terrifying, savage expression. The transparent body solidified completely as black smoke shrouded its form.

"It's a full-fledged malevolent spirit now."

Jenkins thought, watching as it charged toward him, only to slam into an invisible barrier at the edge of the final circle. A faint, golden ring of light contracted inward. The newly formed, weak spirit struggled against it for a few seconds before dissipating into nothing.

"My luck really is terrible today. To think even a fragmented remnant of a soul could turn into a malevolent spirit..."

He lowered his head in thought for a moment. Seeing no other clues, he scooped up the cat, who was now staring at a distant windmill, and set off for the town cemetery.

The position of cemetery keeper was usually held by clergy from the Church of Death and End. In large cities, these individuals were often Enchanters, but in a remote rural town like Roman Town, the post was filled by an ordinary person.

The cemetery was located south of town. Most of the deceased townspeople were buried here, so the graves had formed distinct family plots over time. The cemetery had two levels. The upper, ground level faced the town, its tombstones standing amid flowers and green trees, creating a rather scenic view. This was where the common folk were laid to rest. The lower level was a cold, damp, sunless underground area. A main corridor led to various large and small burial chambers for coffins and grave goods. Usually locked behind a barred gate, this was the final resting place the town's wealthy had purchased for themselves while they were alive.

According to the information Jenkins had received from the police, the second murder had actually taken place inside the underground crypt corridor. Because the second body was discovered so quickly, the police dogs had been able to follow the scent, leading them here and revealing the lingering bloodstains in the corridor.

As an outsider, Jenkins would never have been allowed into the underground crypts. However, seeing the large sum of money he offered, the old keeper relented. But he insisted on watching Jenkins's every move to make sure he wasn't there to steal any grave goods.

The crypt was not only cold but also had a thick, musty odor mixed with the stench of decay. Cremation wasn't popular in a remote town , so it was to be expected.

The scene of the crime was just a short distance from the entrance steps. With his cat's help, Jenkins easily spotted the bloodstains in the light of his paraffin lamp.