Chapter 1418: Chapter 1418

As the purple thread whipped through the air with a sharp crack, the dried corpses hanging in the basement exploded in a series of pops. The interlocking rings on the floor fractured at their connections, and the spring at Femishue's feet gurgled a few times before ceasing to bubble. He opened his eyes and stared straight ahead.

"A purple soul core... it signifies that its owner is the most unique existence within the threads of fate. I knew I wasn't mistaken about you, Mr. Candle."

Magic Miss didn't forget to praise him as she took back the pendant. Then, she and Jenkins both turned their attention to Femishue.

For a few seconds, his eyes were vacant, as if devoid of a soul, but his senses quickly returned to normal.

They were a terrifying pair of eyes. Within their depths, Jenkins seemed to glimpse a vast, placid ocean—the kind of unnerving calm that precedes the most horrifying of storms.

Judging by his eyes, at least, Femishue didn't look like a madman in the slightest. In fact, Jenkins had never seen someone so unnervingly serene. Even if he wasn't insane, he was certainly far from normal.

His voice was hoarse and deep. As he spoke, he waved his right hand, and the puddle on the floor gathered on its own, coalescing in his palm into the shape of an anchor.

"Fine. I don't care who you are. Go meet your death."

The moment the water anchor made contact with his hands, it dissolved with a splash, morphing into seven or eight watery serpents that coiled around his body. But before they could reach his head, they froze solid, and Jenkins shattered the ice with ease, breaking free.

As Jenkins dealt with the attack, Magic Miss charged into the basement. Femishue pointed a finger at her, and flames erupted all over her body. She paid them no mind, however, as the fire couldn't even penetrate her ritually enchanted robe.

Femishue's voice echoed through the basement. The surrounding walls shattered, and eight clay knight figures, which had been sealed inside, emerged with stiff, jerky movements. Each was armed with a sword and a hunting rifle, and when they pulled the triggers, the rifles fired searing rays of heat.

Jenkins had heard of creations like these. They were powerful Extraordinary items, forged through special means using the corpses of loyal guards—a forbidden fusion of alchemy, necromancy, and ancient supernatural arts.

Jenkins called out to Magic Miss, who was scrambling to dodge the clay knights. He drew his sword, gripped the hilt with both hands, and plunged the blade into the earth. The scattered remains of the dried corpses that had exploded earlier began to squirm across the ground, piecing themselves together.

Flesh from different bodies fused together, and soon five stitched corporeal amalgamations lurched to their feet. With chilling shrieks, they each picked a target and charged.

This, too, was a forbidden art banned by the Church, one Jenkins had never used before.

Five of the corpses tied up five of the clay knights. Jenkins then summoned his ice archer and cleric, while he himself charged the final, towering figure.

Freed from the entanglement, Magic Miss turned back to face Femishue. He was now holding an aquamarine, heart-shaped gemstone, its surface mostly stained an inky black.

Magic Miss's eyes glazed over for a moment. Ignoring a premonition of danger, she took another step forward. A deep, aquamarine light enveloped her, and the sheer vastness of the ocean it evoked nearly dissolved her very being. Damp patches appeared on her hair and clothes as moisture seeped from her own body.

The woman within the light drew a dagger from her waist with blinding speed. She pierced through the shimmering barrier and Femishue's armor as if it were nothing, sinking the blade directly into his heart.

she declared, twisting the dagger in an attempt to pulp Femishue's heart.

"So you dared to face me directly because of B-3-01-3361, the [Ocean's Blasphemer]. I see."

Femishue spoke, then shoved Magic Miss with tremendous force. She flew across the basement like a ragdoll and slammed into the wall beside the entrance. As she struggled to her feet, a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of her mouth, a sign of internal injuries from the impact.

"This is for the best. If I had to do it myself, I might have hesitated."

Even with his heart pierced, Femishue's voice remained eerily calm, though his hands had begun to tremble uncontrollably. Jenkins, still battling the clay knight, was struck by a terrible premonition. He turned to his ice archer and commanded:

The archer nocked an arrow and let it fly. An arc of icy blue light streaked across the basement, but it was too late. With a bloodcurdling scream, Femishue shoved the Heart of the Ocean—now half-transformed into a Cursed Item—into the wound Magic Miss had torn in his chest.

The stab wound was far too small for such a large gemstone, but upon touching his blood, the Heart of the Ocean dissolved into a liquid stream and poured into the gaping hole in his chest.

A sudden gale roared into the basement, carrying the salty tang of the ocean. Millions of blue threads erupted from Femishue's chest, weaving themselves into a cocoon that enveloped him completely. The cocoon was then sucked into the spring on the floor, and in the blink of an eye, Femishue vanished.

Without their master's control, the clay knights ceased their attacks and were destroyed one by one. Jenkins scanned the area with his Eye of Reality, but he could find no trace of Femishue.

"What just happened? Where did he go? Did he absorb the Heart of the Ocean? Can a Bestowal that's become a Cursed Item even be absorbed?" New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on noⅴelfire.net

"How are we supposed to know what a madman is thinking? In theory, it should be impossible, but who knows what Femishue has done..."

The earlier gale had left the basement in shambles, scattering the documents that had been on a small table by the wall.

With Femishue's bizarre escape, Jenkins and Magic Miss could only turn their attention to the scattered papers. They discovered that most were letters between Femishue and the pirate fleets of the Shattered Isles, while a smaller portion detailed his correspondence with other illegal factions entrenched in Nolan. It was clear the pirates weren't the only ones involved in today's chaos.

"The Gear Artisans' Association was involved, along with members from the Club of Light Chasers and the Perfume Appreciation Committee. I thought they'd all been driven out of Nolan."

Jenkins quickly summarized the contents.

"Something's not right," he declared. "According to these documents, the pirate fleet wasn't completely defeated. The official announcement of a decisive victory was a fabrication. Before the final battle even began, a portion of their reserve forces had already withdrawn and reached the coast near Nolan."

"So this was all a sham? The pirates' true objective was to sacrifice part of their forces to lure the Nolan navy into a trap?"

"I'm afraid so. The docklands must be in absolute chaos by now. The only question is how much the kingdom's military knows. We should leave. Femishue may have escaped, but I'll track him down eventually."

Back on the ground floor, the gunfight outside was still raging, the shots coming faster than before. The clear skies had vanished, replaced by a blanket of dark clouds. A howling wind tore through the streets and alleys.

Anyone who lived on the coast knew this weather well—it was the harbinger of a great storm.

They had planned to slip out the back and check on the beach, but as Jenkins opened the rear door, he came face-to-face with a man clutching a clay tablet, his hand raised as if to push it open.

A brilliant flash of sword light erupted, shattering the backyard wall and carving a deep gash in the ground.

The demigod from the Tree House leaped into the sky the moment the sword struck. He frowned down at Jenkins, and then his eyes widened in realization.

"A Believer of Lies? Yes, you must be! You've finally shown yourself! What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to take your life!"

The man's clay tablet already bore four gemstones. This meant that, without Jenkins's knowledge, he had already orchestrated three successful disasters.

Erupting in fury, Jenkins summoned his unicorn and, sword in hand, shot into the sky in pursuit. The man with the clay tablet was no fool; instead of fighting, he turned and fled toward the other side of the city.

In the blink of an eye, both men were just distant specks of light vanishing into the clouds. Magic Miss was left behind, staring blankly after them, utterly bewildered. She quickly shook herself out of it, cracked her neck, and sprinted in the direction of the docks.

Out on the vast sea, gales whipped the dark clouds and waves battered the shore. Yet the roar of the ocean and wind was drowned out by the chaotic gunfire at the docks. Even the overcast sky couldn't dim the glow from the burning shoreline.

Most civilians had already fled, but a motley crew of combatants remained, locked in a fierce firefight. The relentless crackle of gunfire, punctuated by explosions, made the scene more chaotic than even the kingdom's war-torn eastern border.

Despite the ongoing cannon fire, the number of ships at sea had not diminished. In fact, since Magic Miss last looked, seven or eight more large vessels had appeared on the horizon.

Most flew pirate flags, bringing the forces at sea to a stalemate. With the sudden onset of the storm, no one dared attempt a boarding action in such treacherous conditions. The ships were scattered, tossed about by the churning waves, occasionally firing a cannonball that vanished into the spray.