Chapter 1572: Chapter 1572

Miss Capet drew a deep breath, reached into her collar, and quickly produced a similar object. It was the final third of the World Tree Seedling.

Jenkins hadn't hesitated to reveal the truth this time, not because he worried they might not return and the secret would be lost forever, but because he felt he needed to divert Miss Capet's attention before her nerves got the better of her.

And it seemed to have worked.

"This isn't something I should be the one to tell you," he began. "The Church of All Things and Nature clearly knows the truth, or they wouldn't have transferred you to Bel Diran at a time . Yes, it's a family heirloom. Our great-grandfather divided it into three parts. My father, Robert Williams, has the piece belonging to the youngest son. The second brother has no descendants, and I found their part of the heirloom earlier this year in Shire City."

The implication was unmistakable. Miss Capet, who had just finished breakfast and was still nursing her teacup while fretting over the afternoon's mission, could never have imagined that she would, at this very moment, learn a truth that had eluded her for twenty years.

Her mind went blank, her eyes fixed on the two metal—or metal-like—pieces, one large and one small.

After a long pause, a single word escaped her lips, but she couldn't seem to find the others to convey what she truly meant.

"Yes," Jenkins affirmed. "In terms of blood, you would be my distant cousin."

"I suspect the Church transferred you to Bel Diran because they know about your lineage. I don't know why they haven't announced it yet, but I imagine it will happen in the next week or two. After all, last night's banquet..."

He let the thought hang in the air, and Miss Capet understood. If the Church intended to use her identity and lineage to make their own bid for the throne of the Fidektri Kingdom, they wouldn't keep her identity hidden for much longer. They would find a suitable moment to bring it to light.

Jenkins felt his gambit had paid off; Miss Capet's anxiety over their impending operation had vanished. She, however, felt as if she were in a dream, unable to fully process the staggering news.

"I... I'm sorry, I think I need a moment to myself."

She murmured, running a hand through her blonde hair. Jenkins nodded, understanding her turmoil.

"I'm sorry I kept this from you for so long, I truly am. But in any case, our family is your closest living kin. Although your position will be very delicate until the Church of All Things and Nature decides to reveal this, I think Father and Mother will be very happy to know we have another relative."

With that, he rose and left the room, leaving Miss Capet alone with her thoughts. Jenkins didn't know if telling her early was the right or wrong thing to do, but since the words were out, he had no regrets. He only felt a pang of guilt for dragging such a simple, kind-hearted woman into the troublesome struggle for the throne.

And so, he decided to find something to occupy himself and pass the time.

To ensure that the cursed individuals within the arcane lock had no possible way of escaping, the grounds outside Count Paramont's manor had been surrounded by layer upon layer of forces from the Twelve Orthodox Churches.

Enchanters from all over the world had established temporary bases outside the manor, giving the place the feel of a warfront.

There were plenty of empty houses. Jenkins made the excuse that he had returned late from the banquet and needed to rest, borrowing a room for a short nap. He then left an illusion in his place, took his cat, and departed, heading straight for the suburban cemetery mentioned in the newspaper.

He and his cat disguised themselves on the way, so when they arrived, he didn't bother to hide his tracks and approached openly. Perhaps because they believed there were no more clues to be found, there weren't many Church Enchanters present. There were, however, many police officers still cordoning off the scene and searching for evidence.

Jenkins didn't rush into the cemetery. Instead, he observed from nearby for a while, confirming the location of a spiritual aura within, before entering under the pretense of paying respects to a friend.

Because the scene was still cordoned off, he couldn't get close to the spot where the group of naked men had been found that morning. But that wasn't his objective anyway. He followed a gravel path forward through the cemetery and, led by the groundskeeper, entered a crypt on the eastern side of the grounds. Nᴇw novel chapters are publɪshed on novel✦fire.net

This place housed the ashes of the unclaimed dead, which was why Jenkins was granted entry without having to name the friend he was supposedly visiting.

"Take your time and look for yourself," the old groundskeeper said, not following Jenkins into the chamber. "Next to each urn, there are details about the discovery of the body and their personal effects."

"I'll give you twenty minutes," he continued. "You have to leave whether you find it or not. You saw the police over there. If you still want to look, come back tomorrow or the day after."

Jenkins thanked the old man and, holding the groundskeeper's kerosene lamp, delved into the dark corridor of the crypt. Although it only stored ashes and not bodies, a cold, foul stench still permeated the underground air. Instead of entering the section for the recently deceased, Jenkins proceeded further down the corridor, but stopped before long.

To his left, a simple wooden plaque hung on the uneven earthen wall. It indicated that this crypt held the ashes and effects of Bel Diran's nameless dead from March to May of the previous spring.

Its intensity wasn't strong enough to be a numbered item; at most, it was a slightly more powerful talisman or a ritual's foundational array. That was why Jenkins had come here directly.

He tucked the cat, which had been peering curiously from his shoulder, back into his pocket. Then, he drew his cane from thin air before finally stepping into the crypt.

The crypt was square, quite large, but unremarkable in design. In the faint glow of the kerosene lamp, identical wooden boxes rested on recessed platforms along the walls. Below each box was a slightly larger, slender shelf holding a jumble of personal effects. Jenkins saw an umbrella, a doll, a smoking pipe, and a single black rain boot. According to regulations, the belongings of these nameless dead would be stored for three years before being disposed of at the groundskeeper's discretion.

Jenkins stared at the doll for a long moment, then reached out and tapped it lightly with his cane. It immediately began to tremble unnaturally, its movements almost human.

In Jenkins's eyes, the spiritual aura emanated from this doll with its ugly pink hat. Upon closer inspection, he could even see a soul within it. But unfortunately, even if he imbued the doll with life force, he couldn't turn a dead object into a living one; he could only make it twitch for a few brief moments.

"[Spiritual Communion]."

Anything that possessed a soul could be considered a living being. Jenkins withdrew his cane, placed his fingers on the head of the somewhat tattered doll, and a few seconds later, he perceived a very faint fragment of speech:

"Be careful behind you."

Jenkins frowned and turned around to see that a damp, cold white mist had materialized in the crypt behind him. The mist obscured his vision while also concealing the malevolent spirits that were steadily drifting out of the urns. The white mist was the spirits' supernatural talent, but this was the first time Jenkins had ever seen so many of them manifest at once.

Though they were malevolent spirits, they posed no great threat to Jenkins himself. However, there were Gravekeepers from the Orthodox Churches on the surface, and using either the Skull Sword or the Sage's divine arts risked being detected by them.

But recalling the brand-new ability he had acquired last night, Jenkins put away his cane and drew his Holy Sword. Without activating its inherent properties, using it merely as a common weapon, he held the sword in his right hand and swiftly drew two arc-shaped slash marks in the dirt to his left and right.

He twirled the blade in a flourish and then plunged it forcefully into the dirt directly in front of him:

The two arcing slash marks he had drawn flared with a bright spiritual light. As the blade pierced the earth, the marks seemed to come alive, spinning rapidly on the ground. As their speed increased, the two slashes connected end to end, forming a complete, bright white ring around Jenkins.

After the ring of light closed, it expanded, filling the entire crypt. As it expanded, it caused no harm to the environment or the spirits it touched. But when it reached its limit and suddenly contracted inward, the spinning slash cut through everything within the ring, both material and immaterial. Besides Jenkins himself, the spirits and mist at that same height within the crypt were cleanly bisected.

This was not a division in the physical sense, but a direct conceptual separation. The malevolent spirits were vanquished. The mist they had created, though it couldn't dissipate immediately, could no longer merge back together, creating a clear void in the air.

This was the effect of the [Red Martial] ability, [Sword Dance: Revolve]. Though not as subtle and incomprehensible as a spell-type ability, it was at least powerful enough. The destruction this ability could cause was influenced by the Enchanter's own level, the strength of their spirit, and the power of the weapon used. Jenkins had used only a fraction of his strength against those spirits, which indicated the ability still had immense potential.

The origin of [Sword Dance: Revolve] was a sword ritual; its essence was not swordsmanship. Although classified as a [Red Martial] ability, in Jenkins's view, it felt more like a spell.

He sheathed his sword with satisfaction, then turned and picked up the doll again. The instant he lifted it, a current of extreme cold shot up his arm toward his heart, only to be burned away by the sacred fire that drifted within his spirit.

"A curse? It seems meant to prevent it from being moved?"

Jenkins thought, and after several unsuccessful attempts, he once again used [Spiritual Communion] to establish a hazy connection with the soul sealed inside the doll. He was beginning to understand the full story.