Chapter 1620: Chapter 1620

The night was nearly over. Though the eastern sky remained dim and murky, Jenkins estimated that within half an hour to an hour, the first rays of dawn would illuminate Nolan.

After confirming that the Enchanters from the Church of Ocean and Exploration had recovered the fish-man's corpse, Jenkins left the Docklands. On his way, he dealt with some gang members trading contraband—those cigarettes—in a dark alley. By now, he was near his home.

The cat had been drifting in and out of sleep all night, but now, sensing they were home, it leaped down from Jenkins's shoulder and darted like a rabbit toward the fork on the left leading to St. George Avenue. It crouched at the intersection, looking back at Jenkins with a pitiful expression, as if to ask why he wasn't heading home. Jenkins had no choice but to pick up the cat, which was now stubbornly refusing to move from its spot on the ground, and promise it they would be home soon.

With not much time left until dawn, Jenkins decided to take care of one more thing—anything at all—before flying directly to the Evergreen Forest to see the dragon.

He walked aimlessly eastward along the straight, wide road, his eyes scanning the storefronts. Within a few steps, he caught sight of Hathaway's aura. The aura was coming from underground, not far away. Jenkins calculated the location; it had to be the underground training ground of the Oil Ink Mister Club.

Papa Oliver had introduced Jenkins to the Oil Ink Mister Club as a place to practice shooting. The establishment occupied a gray area between legal and illegal, founded by followers of the pseudo-god, the Lord of Firearms.

"Strange. Hathaway is practicing her shooting this early? I thought ladies preferred a full night's sleep to keep their skin fair and smooth."

Puzzled, he walked into the alley where the club's entrance was located. After showing his membership card, he entered the underground training ground. It was still the dead of night, so there weren't many people around. With the help of his special sight, Jenkins quickly pinpointed Hathaway's approximate location.

She wasn't alone. Miss Windsor was with her.

This was a combination Jenkins hadn't expected. He moved to a corner and stood silently, without greeting them, wanting to first see what the two ladies were doing here so late at night.

Although they were in a shooting range, neither Hathaway nor Miss Windsor held a gun. Instead, they were dressed in simple protective gear over practical clothing, each holding a sword. The lighting was good; the gas lamps clearly showed that both swords were sharpened.

Jenkins knew Miss Windsor favored bladed weapons—she kept a sword in her carriage. And while Hathaway's abilities were music-related, she also wielded a sword as a weapon. It was the one Jenkins, in his guise as Mr. Candle, had sold her in exchange for the 'Our God is Here' chain ability.

Jenkins hadn't heard the beginning of their conversation, but by the time he arrived, the two had clearly been talking for quite a while.

"...I cannot allow it. This is absolutely out of the question."

That was Hathaway's voice. Her long red hair was tied up in a simple bun at the back of her head, and combined with her white, cuffed-sleeve blouse, she looked exceptionally sharp and capable.

"I'm not asking for your opinion; I'm simply stating a fact. What I'm doing is immoral, of course, but you know I have to do this."

Miss Windsor replied. Instead of a bun, she had used several hairpins to hold her hair up. Beneath her protective gear, she wore a dark blouse, and on her feet were brown lace-up boots.

Jenkins had already told Hathaway about his alliance with Miss Windsor. He had also told her that he had decided to contend for the throne and was planning to arrange a meeting soon between Hathaway, Briny, Dolores, and Alexia. But logically, Miss Windsor and Hathaway shouldn't have had any real connection; their relationship was limited to having attended the same banquets with Jenkins.

"You liar! You thief!"

Hathaway shouted, probably assuming the underground shooting range was empty at this hour, so she didn't hold back at all.

"Do you have any idea how long it took me, how much effort I put in, to make him the man he is today?" Tʜe source of this ᴄontent ɪs n0velfire.net

As she spoke, she stepped toward Miss Windsor, sword in hand, and brought it down in a vicious chop. Her movement wasn't fast, and Miss Windsor easily parried the blow with her own weapon. But Hathaway's strength was immense—at least for an Enchanter, far greater than that of an ordinary woman. Miss Windsor's face flushed red, and it was clear she was struggling to hold her ground.

"Do you know what he was like when I first met him?"

Hathaway took a step back, flourished her sword casually, and thrust forward. She easily broke through Miss Windsor's defense, nicking a small hole in the fabric under her arm. Miss Windsor hastily retreated, knocking Hathaway's sword aside, but Hathaway pressed her advantage, their blades clashing between them several times. Jenkins thought he saw sparks fly, though he couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination.

"I'll say it again: I know this is immoral."

Miss Windsor said, struggling to defend herself. She might have been a skilled swordswoman, but Hathaway's strength, speed, and reflexes were far superior. The few techniques she had learned were not nearly enough to overcome the vast difference in their physical attributes.

"That's why I'm telling you what I'm doing, instead of just going ahead and doing it."

Her voice was clear and bright, without a hint of pretense. She gripped her sword with both hands and swung it powerfully in a downward diagonal arc, but Hathaway merely lifted her own blade with one hand and easily blocked the counterattack Miss Windsor had struggled to execute.

"I can tolerate him seeing other women, because he was upfront about it with me, and there was nothing I could do anyway. But that doesn't mean I actually want that cat-loving idiot to get close to any more girls!"

The red-haired girl with her hair in a bun thrust her sword forward again, this time only slicing a small tear in the fabric at Miss Windsor's waist. Hathaway elegantly retracted her blade, spun her body, and then, like a sword dancer, delivered three rapid strikes. Miss Windsor barely blocked the first, deflected the second with the iron bracer on her wrist, but couldn't stop the third. Hathaway's blade came to rest with its tip pointed directly at her throat.

Hathaway snorted, then withdrew her sword and took a step back, once again assuming a ready stance:

"I worked so hard to shape Jenkins into the man he is today. How could I possibly let you reap the rewards for free?"

The red-haired lady switched to a two-handed grip this time. Seeing this, Miss Windsor held her breath, her eyes fixed intently on Hathaway's wrists.

"You know this is for our alliance."

"Hmph, I know about your collaboration. But are you collaborating in bed?"