Chapter 1432: Chapter 1432

"I don't possess the qualifications of a Savior, as he claimed. I've merely guessed at what those qualifications might be."

Standing upon the glacier, Jenkins addressed the demigods, but none of them knew whether to trust him.

"If you have truly been granted the right to save the world, the one chosen by destiny itself, then I hope you can hold on to the compassion you just professed," the Stargazer declared to the Believer of Lies before him. "Otherwise, others chosen by fate will come to eliminate you, just as you did him."

The Astrologer's warning hung in the cold air.

"There will be no others chosen by fate..."

He let out a soft, melancholic sigh.

"How is such arrogance any different from the man you just killed in his final moments?" the old Gravedigger warned. "Believer of Lies, you did save Nolan today, so we will not move against you. But you must remain ever vigilant. Do not let yourself slide into the abyss of depravity."

The old man's voice was stern.

"I am more devoted to order than anyone." For origınal chapters go to n͟o͟v͟e͟l͟f͟i͟r͟e͟.net

"So, who are you? Can you at least tell us your name?"

He was about to refuse, but something made him pause. He turned back to the demigods encircling him, his gaze then drifting down toward the sprawling, panicked city below.

A dense fog shrouded the city, a sign that the next disaster was already brewing. The twilight of the 18th Epoch was upon them. The magnificent Steam Age had forged humanity's greatest glories, but it was also dragging civilization toward an inescapable abyss.

Its streets were the veins of this civilization, and the blood that flowed through them were symbols etched by time itself. Nolan City was the heart of this epoch, a place known as the vortex of catastrophe, yet it was also here that civilization's last miracle would burst forth.

He stared, transfixed, at the city below—so familiar, yet so alien. He watched the black smoke curl from the chimneys, the ant-like figures scuttling through the streets, the carriages rounding the corners, and the endless, churning wheel of civilization under a somber sky.

"I am... the Savior. Redemptor."

He couldn't help but say it. The cat on his shoulder brightened, wanting to meow in celebration of Jenkins finally accepting his responsibility. But remembering its current aloof persona, it suppressed the urge and simply remained perched on his shoulder.

Miss Bevanna asked, her voice laced with confusion.

"I am the Savior," he replied, a small smile touching his lips as he spoke. "A savior from a distant land. If fate has chosen me for this, I will follow its guidance and fulfill my destiny. Even if the task is fraught with peril, even if I might fail... Yes. I am the Savior. The one who will save it all."

He chuckled at his own declaration.

"You truly believe you'll be the final Savior? Even when your own companions are also candidates?"

Miss Bevanna pressed.

"We were never in competition," he answered. "We all believe in the same cruel, mocking fate."

He gave the assembled demigods a nod.

"I'll have to trouble you all with the cleanup. I'll be on my way now. Until we meet again."

With that, the cat on his shoulder vanished first. Then, his own form began to fade, his colors washing out until he dissolved completely into the sunlight.

Only Miss Bevanna kept repeating the word. She knew it was someone's middle name. And while she couldn't possibly imagine Jenkins being the same man—this eccentric, yet inexplicably charismatic figure—the fact that this person had spoken that name was cause for alarm.

"Could the Believer of Lies know about Jenkins from the Legacy Sage Church?"

Miss Bevanna's thoughts veered onto a strange and troubling path.

Chocolate was a blur of motion.

The moment he reappeared in Ruen, Dolores rushed toward him, her face flushed with excitement and her arms open wide. Jenkins returned the hug, and from an angle the princess couldn't see, he shot a look at Alexia and Julia, his expression a silent question: *What's going on?*

"Her Highness is overjoyed that she was able to help you."

The maid explained with a smile.

"Dolores has always craved adventure, just like in the chivalric novels she reads,"

Alexia added. "Today, you more or less made that dream come true."

"Jenkins, today was the most wonderful day!" she exclaimed. "I saw it all! I saw you freeze the ocean, and I saw you defeat that... that tentacled monster! Oh, Jenkins!"

The young princess hugged him tightly, then suddenly released him. Jenkins tried to gauge her expression, only to realize her face was drawing closer. The sixteen-year-old princess leaned in to kiss him.

"No, absolutely not!"

He dodged the kiss with the preternatural agility of Cat's Grace, a gift from Chocolate. His face was a mask of panic, a terror he hadn't shown even when facing the demigods.

"Absolutely not, absolutely not, absolutely not..."

He repeated, like a broken record. He clutched his chest, staggered back a step as if in utter shock, and then vanished into thin air, practically fleeing the scene.

The cat lunged at the spot where Jenkins had vanished, pouncing on nothing but air. Clearly, he hadn't thought to take it with him.

Chocolate huffed, leaping back onto the sofa to sulk.

"Why did he run away?"

The princess asked, crestfallen.

"Clearly, when we understand why he avoided your kiss, we will have uncovered his deepest secret," Alexia said, comforting her student. Her gaze lingered on the spot where he had vanished.

"I, for one, find this side of Jenkins far more interesting."

The princess felt a distinct wave of malevolence from her teacher.

The morning in Nolan had brought a torrential downpour, followed by an eerie snowfall. It was May—a month in which, according to all of Nolan's recorded history, it had never snowed.

Fortunately, the bizarre weather passed quickly. At the same time, news of the astonishing events in the Docklands, carried by those who had fled, spread like wildfire throughout the city.

In truth, no words were needed to convey the disaster at the docks. Anyone in the western part of the city had only to lift their head to see the colossal waves, frozen solid against the horizon.

It was a sight far more compelling than any gunfight or cannon barrage. And so, after nearly two weeks of celebrating the victory at the Broken Isles, the public's attention finally found a new, more startling focus.

Jenkins returned to Nolan, stepping back into a city shrouded in mourning and fear. He grieved for it, but he could not turn back the clock on what had been done.