Chapter 1470: Chapter 1470

The priest invited Jenkins inside, and they spoke as they walked. He asked Jenkins to describe the treasure he had seen once more, then drew a conclusion:

"The demons have returned!"

"Demons?" ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novelFɪre.net

Jenkins was certain he meant more than just the race of demons.

"My apologies. That's just the townsfolk's term for a certain strange life form that appeared here long ago. After I took over the church in Black Town, I discovered records of many horrifying incidents in the archives. These were events experienced and documented by my predecessors, and even their predecessors. But no matter what they tried, the records could never be shared with the outside world. I suspect it's some kind of curse.

What you've described matches the local legends and the accounts in our records. I believe these must be the same 'demons' that appeared seventy-eight years ago."

According to the church records, seventy-eight years ago, an ordinary woodcutter returned to town with a vast fortune, instantly becoming its wealthiest resident. He embraced a better life but chose not to leave, instead constantly helping and providing for the other townsfolk, gradually earning a reputation as a great philanthropist.

During an unfortunate incident, the town priest discovered the 'lucky' woodcutter's inhuman nature. He soon realized that at least a third of the townsfolk were no longer who they seemed to be. It was then that he resolved to act, uniting the remaining humans to lure those strange, identity-stealing creatures into the town granary and set it ablaze, burning them all."

"Fire alone could hardly kill a creature like that, could it?"

"That is what the records say. I cannot answer your question."

the priest said, then summoned the three other Enchanters from the church. He and Jenkins went out to examine the treasure again. After the priest applied a divine art, Jenkins could finally see the hidden, cursed aura. Once the truth was revealed, he could even see with perfect clarity the evil souls nesting within each gold coin, poised to seize human bodies.

"Why does it feel like my Eye of Reality keeps failing me in these stories? I couldn't even see those vampire creatures last time."

He grumbled internally, then followed the small church party to the homes of the three young men. They apprehended the youths and, with the entire town watching, led them to the square to be burned at the stake.

The process met with some resistance, but it was quickly quelled. In the square, the light of the pyre illuminated Jenkins's perplexed face as the roaring flames licked at the unidentified creatures bound to the stakes.

The townsfolk cheered, and a faintly self-satisfied expression appeared on the priest's face. Everything seemed normal, except for the fact that Jenkins was still here—which was abnormal in itself. Besides, he'd never heard of a Mysterious Object being killed by mere fire.

"I knew it wouldn't be this easy."

After the execution, the priest and his men took the cart of treasure and buried it deep within the forest. Jenkins stayed at the church that night. The next morning, he said his goodbyes, claiming he needed to continue his journey.

He didn't go far. After changing his appearance in the forest, he re-entered the town. Although the arrival of two outsiders in such quick succession was conspicuous, his new look was so different from his last that no one suspected any connection to the stranger who had left that morning.

This time, he checked into the local inn and spent the entire day exploring every corner of the town. He was trying to determine if there were any other Enchanters besides the clergy. He found no Enchanters, but he did discover more creatures with black auras who had usurped the identities of townsfolk. They hadn't attended the public burning the previous night, which was why he had missed them.

He quickly relayed this information to the church through a secret channel, and the events of the previous night repeated themselves. As the pyre was lit once more beneath the night sky and the townsfolk began to cheer amid the billowing heat, Jenkins, hidden in the crowd, considered a terrifying possibility.

On the third day, no one ventured into the forest, and no more creatures with black auras appeared in town. But when night fell, the people gathered once more. Someone had reported that their neighbor was exhibiting inhuman traits.

The priest, of course, didn't readily believe such a claim. He sent men to watch both the accuser and the accused while he led the church's Enchanters to the accused's home to investigate.

But the moment the priest left, the townsfolk grew agitated. They surged together, screaming for the evil creatures to be burned. Even with an Enchanter left behind to keep order, he was not particularly powerful and was reluctant to harm ordinary people. In the ensuing chaos, the innocent accused vanished into the mob. A little over ten minutes later, the furious townsfolk dragged him to the town's pyre.

Hearing the commotion, the priest rushed back, arriving at the edge of the square just before the pyre was to be lit. He yelled for everyone to stop, but he couldn't prevent someone from hurling a torch at the oil-soaked woodpile.

The torch spun through the air, scattering sparks in every direction. The bound man cried out in terror, and the crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch.

Just then, a hand shot out from the side, expertly catching the spinning torch mid-air. With a swift motion, it was thrown back the way it came, sending the onlookers shrieking and scrambling backward, leaving the torch to clatter on the ground and spit sparks.

The hand, of course, belonged to Jenkins. This time was different. Before, he had watched the townsfolk turn on each other because they were already lost, but this time, an innocent man was about to be burned. He couldn't just stand by and watch.

"Outsider, stay out of our business. For your own good, leave now. You are not welcome in Black Town!"

The man on the stake gasped for breath while the townsfolk rained curses upon the outsider in front of them. Some urged Jenkins to leave at once; others spat the most venomous curses they could think of.

The priest struggled through the crowd and finally reached the raised platform where the stake stood. He took his place beside Jenkins and bellowed:

"What are you doing?"

His voice was swiftly swallowed by the roar of the crowd's displeasure. More torches sailed through the air, their flames bursting like brilliant fireworks. But to the man on the stake, each one was another tick in the countdown to his death.