Chapter 1635: Chapter 1635

With dozens of pairs of eyes fixed on him from behind, Jenkins froze completely. He remained poised in the middle of turning a page, caught between a rock and a hard place.

Just then, a faint warmth spread across his forehead. The power bestowed by the Sage flowed into his hands, stabilizing the book's restless energy. But in that fleeting moment, Jenkins saw a man sitting in darkness, one half of his body skeletal, the other that of a handsome, middle-aged man. The vision was so brief that Jenkins couldn't make out his face.

He lowered his gaze to the words in the book. He recognized them all. The page he had opened, page 103, detailed the Beast of Calamity: The Undying Abyss.

The fear of death is inherent in all intelligent life. With the exception of a few individuals who can see beyond life and death without fear, most hope to live longer. This truth applied across all worlds, races, genders, and species.

In a distant epoch, the fear of death drove intelligent races to study the art of longevity for generations. This long pursuit, coupled with a thousand years of accumulated wisdom, finally bore fruit. For the sake of that fruit, the races of the material world briefly united. They excavated an abyss and constructed an inverted tower within it, the inversion symbolizing the "reversal of life" in their ritual. Using the man-made abyss as the foundation of the rite, they sought to grant all life an eternal, unchanging existence.

The wise foresaw the danger this posed to the world. The greedy schemed to monopolize the outcome. The inquisitive craved a greater understanding of life and death. The fearless hoped to challenge the authority of the gods.

But the gods did not even intervene; they merely watched in silence as the mortals began to slaughter one another before the ritual could even be held. The bloody carnage that swept their world unintentionally became a symbol of "sacrifice," which in turn activated the ritual. Thus was born a terrifying monster named for the "sin of craving immortality" shared by all intelligent life—the Beast of Calamity, The Undying Abyss.

The appearance of the Beast of Calamity signified the end of an epoch. Realizing what they had done, the intelligent races resolved to clean up the disaster they had unleashed. In the end, an unnamed hero, known as the Savior, entered the inverted tower alone, intending to permanently seal that abyss.

But the Beast of Calamity's power was too ferocious. Though the seal was ultimately successful, it merely suppressed The Undying Abyss rather than putting it to sleep. Therefore, to prevent its escape, the location sealing the Beast of Calamity was carved out from the space of the material world. At the same time, the seal was layered with countless obstacles to ensure that no creature who knew the secret could ever leave.

"So that's how it is..."

Jenkins murmured, closing his eyes to compose himself. Only then did he shut the book and return it to its original place on the shelf.

"This manor is probably that seal. As for the master of the manor... the Beast of Calamity."

It was an incredible thought, but it was also logical. After all, on the night before he returned to Nolan, during his final conversation with "Mr. Augustus" in the Mysterious Realm, he had warned Jenkins not to go near the manor.

He figured this must have been the place he was warned about. Since that gentleman had bestowed upon him a divine domain, he couldn't have been unaware of Jenkins's abilities. Therefore, any place he specifically warned against must be exceptionally dangerous.

"This is terrible. A Beast of Calamity, and not one that's completely sealed like the Scarlet Ephemera, nor just an escaped fragment of its essence like the Sin Nightmare. If I'm not careful, I might have to face a Beast of Calamity at its full strength, right here inside the manor... But this is also an opportunity. If I can learn about the general strength of a Beast of Calamity from one that's suppressed and can't escape before the final day arrives, that's far better than facing the one at the end of the eighteenth epoch head-on. But I only have one drop of godhead, and Briny and Hathaway..."

Jenkins mused, turning to look at the young women. The library was a safe room within the manor. While not as comfortable as home, it was at least less terrifying and bizarre than the corridors.

"I think the trouble we've stumbled into is quite serious. Rest for ten minutes, then we'll set out again. If all goes well, we should be able to leave this wretched place in twenty minutes."

With Hathaway and Briny here, Jenkins couldn't afford to take any risks, so he temporarily gave up the idea of burning his godhead to directly confront the monster suppressed by the manor. Seeing Hathaway's worried gaze, Jenkins avoided her eyes to keep her from seeing through him and instead looked at Briny.

"About my... situation, I'll explain everything clearly once we get out."

"Briny isn't a petty person. As long as you explain, I'm sure she'll accept it all."

Laurel Lindsay, standing nearby, chimed in, trying to smooth things over. The other young women, mostly aware of the relationship between Jenkins and Briny, and Briny's passion for the mystical, also offered words of encouragement.

The blond girl, however, was not angry. She merely glanced at Hathaway and said calmly,

"Besides that, I also want to know about you and other women."

She was quite direct, likely having picked up on something from Hathaway's words earlier. Jenkins naturally nodded in agreement. Seeing Hathaway's wistful expression but lack of opposition, he felt this was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

To leave the library, he had to leave behind some "terrible knowledge." Jenkins found a blank notebook in the desk drawer and began to write down the knowledge he had gained about the Beast of Calamity, the Scarlet Ephemera, from when he had witnessed it in his divine state. Although "The Great Sins: Beasts of Calamity" and other books mentioned this terrifying monster that could directly affect a species' heredity, their information was nowhere near as extensive as his.

As expected, the information on the Scarlet Ephemera was deemed acceptable. Jenkins timed it perfectly, sliding the notebook into a gap on the bookshelf. The notebook, which had previously only had a faint spiritual glow, was immediately enveloped in a dense blackness. Simultaneously, an image and text automatically appeared on its cover and spine, making it completely indistinguishable from a real book.

He turned to the girls, first uneasily blessing each of their nightgowns again, then, after a moment of thought, reluctantly took out the page left to him by the young diviner.

He shook his head with a sigh, then steeled himself, bit his finger, and dripped blood onto the paper. He tore the blood-stained paper into twelve pieces and, with the pen he carried, meticulously drew the holy symbol of the Sage on each one.

"May the Sage protect you~"

He said softly. A visible golden light immediately shone through the paper, lasting for a good ten seconds before it faded.

"Everyone take one. It might save your life in a pinch."

He distributed the papers to the young women. Briny asked from the side with a strange expression,

"Can every devout believer do this?"

"You'd probably have to be exceptionally devout," he explained vaguely. Fearing they might misunderstand, he added, "I'm a special case."

The group set off again. This time, after less than a minute in the corridor, Jenkins stopped and pulled open a door.

This time, the room inside was a washroom. The only moving object was a vicious, terrifying female evil spirit in the mirror. It was a true evil spirit, perfectly matching the descriptions from horror stories. She stood in the mirror, her face grim and sinister, water dripping incessantly from the ends of her hair.

Even a washroom in a large household couldn't be as big as a bedroom, at least not in Laurel Lindsay's manor. With more than a dozen people crammed inside, it felt exceptionally crowded. Besides Jenkins, several of the young women were forced to face the spirit in the mirror, though thankfully it showed no signs of emerging just yet.

"Do you wish to see the master?"

The spirit's voice echoed faintly from the mirror. Hearing it, Jenkins's ear twitched. He glanced at Hathaway, who nodded, confirming his suspicion about the voice's source.

"You dare hide in here?"

He didn't answer the question. Instead, he reached out and shattered the mirror with a single punch. His hand passed through the sharp fragments and grasped a corpse from a hollowed-out space behind it. The shriveled, dehydrated body was curled up, looking exceptionally pitiful.

As the mirror shattered, the spirit's shriek echoed from every corner of the washroom.

"You're a pitiful one too. It seems you were forcibly kept here and assimilated by the manor the last time it manifested in the material world."

As Jenkins spoke, a wisp of the flame protecting the group snaked onto the corpse, crackling as it tried to ignite it. But the body seemed to be coated with a fire-retardant layer, completely unaffected by the flames.

"You will all die! You will all go to see the master!"

The small space filled with echoes, the overlapping voices from all directions making it difficult to pinpoint the spirit's exact location. The young women huddled together, trembling. Jenkins's eyes flickered. He took the cane from Hathaway's hand and swung it into the air.

But the swing only shattered an invisible mirror in the air. The falling glass shards nearly injured the ladies below.

Jenkins stared at the mirror for a moment, understanding that his opponent's ability was related to mirrors. But he was neither afraid nor worried. Looking into the empty air, he asked, "How do we leave this room?"

"Drink the water from the tap. All of you must drink."

The spirit's overlapping echo replied. Jenkins then turned the faucet under the shattered mirror. A foul-smelling, yellowish liquid bubbled out with a gurgle before starting to flow.

"In that case, you might as well die."

Jenkins had no intention of letting anyone drink that substance. He abruptly threw his cane, sending it into a crack in the ceiling above. As he infused it with life force, the wood of the cane was rapidly invigorated, growing like brown tentacles that clung to the ceiling and spread swiftly. Once it had covered the ceiling, it descended along the walls, eventually enveloping most of the space in the small room.

The evil spirit could hide in invisible mirrors, but the mirrors were not in some other dimension; they physically existed within the washroom. Thus, as the cane grew, the mirrors shattered one by one. Eventually, the evil spirit was caught by Jenkins and burned to a crisp, just like the corpse.

Of course, as the cane grew downwards, it had to coil tightly around the ladies to check for mirrors at their feet and around them. Although it didn't touch anyone, it was hardly an elegant maneuver. So after the spirit vanished, many of them secretly cast strange glances at Jenkins, which he simply pretended not to see.

"Rest for a moment. We're leaving immediately."

He said to the group, letting Hathaway hold the cane again while he crouched down and picked up a larger piece of glass to observe. As he looked, a hallucination suddenly appeared before his eyes. The face of Miss Bevanna appeared in the mirror shard. Then he realized it wasn't a hallucination; it really was Miss Bevanna.

"There's not enough time, so don't interrupt. Listen to me. It's very difficult for us to contact you; this is just a coincidence. The combat unit is already deployed outside the manor. If we don't see you appear within half an hour, we plan to directly call upon the Sage. The Church has found records indicating that previous survivors lose most of their memories from inside the manor, but most of them warned not to walk backward, not to make loud noises, and not to touch any oil paintings."

Miss Bevanna spoke at a rapid pace. Jenkins listened and nodded, confirming that this was the real Miss Bevanna, not an illusion created by the manor.

"We've investigated the course of events and have basically confirmed that it was the relatives of the Lawrence family, who were staying here, who summoned the manor's arrival. That family has dealings with cultists and recently purchased some sensitive materials. Although the manor's arrival is an irreversible ritual, if you can find them, you might be able to ask them how to safely..."

After that, Miss Bevanna's image remained in the mirror, but her voice vanished. Ten seconds later, even her image began to blur, and finally, it disappeared completely.

"The Sage's descent?"

A soft gasp came from behind. Jenkins nodded and put the mirror shard in his pocket.

"Gods generally don't come to the material world lightly, but they sometimes respond to the call of their followers."

He explained to his companions. Seeing the peculiar expression on Hathaway's face, he knew she understood just how terrifying a matter the "Sage's descent" Miss Bevanna had mentioned was.

"In any case, don't worry. Since the Church has arrived, we'll be rescued soon."

He offered reassurance, then once again led the group onward.

The next "safe room" turned out to be the manor's steam boiler room. When Jenkins opened the door, it was filled with billowing smoke, but he could faintly make out a man and a woman standing by another door on the far side of the room, which they had already opened.

The pair was startled by the sound of a door opening behind them. As they instinctively turned their heads, Laurel Lindsay recognized them.

"That's my aunt and uncle!"

Jenkins shouted, pushing his right hand forward in a flat thrust. The abundant steam in the room rapidly condensed into ice and shot out at high speed. The young women, panting, followed behind him as the group exited the room through the other door. They pursued the pair down the corridor, watching them duck into another room.

That room was the very one that fate had guided them to.

Pushing the door open, they discovered it was the main hall. The group had entered through a side door. Jenkins turned his head to look at the main entrance. If he was not mistaken, opening that door would most likely lead to the manor's courtyard.

"There they are!" Chapters fırst released on Nov3lFɪre.ɴet

Hathaway pointed to Laurel Lindsay's aunt and uncle. One held an inverted cross constructed from screws of varying lengths, while the other held an ancient book with a black cover.

The man spoke first, his voice hoarse and kept low, as if afraid of waking something.

Ignoring him, Jenkins turned his gaze to the massive portrait hanging in the hall. The man in the painting, his face obscured, sat at the head of a long dining table. He held a knife in one hand and a fork in the other, a napkin tied at his chest. The silver plate before him was empty, giving the impression that he was waiting for a meal.

Half of this man's body was normal, while the other half was an unclothed skeleton, identical to the vision Jenkins had seen when he opened the file on The Undying Abyss.

"We can't escape? Can you?"

Jenkins scoffed, his eyes scanning the hall for a way out.

The man and woman didn't continue the verbal spar. The woman moved towards the main door, while the man opened the book in his hands and softly chanted three words that Jenkins couldn't pronounce.

A plume of black smoke flew from the book and, upon landing, formed a giant white maggot. He repeated this action three times, summoning three different monsters from the black book.

At the same time, Laurel Lindsay's aunt pressed the inverted cross against the door, and the massive door automatically creaked open a crack.

"Go, now! Follow the path outside with your heads down, and absolutely do not look at your surroundings!"

Jenkins threw three silence charms, immediately followed by three explosive charms aimed at the three monsters.

The man and woman had already taken the opportunity to leave. Before the door could swing completely shut, the young women, led by Hathaway, ran out together. Jenkins brought up the rear, but the cliché of him being trapped inside alone did not occur.

From inside the manor, one could see outside. Once out of the building and in the courtyard, they could see the Scribes waiting outside the gates. Unfortunately, those outside could not see in, so the anxiously waiting Miss Bevanna and Mr. Gilbert were unaware that the instigators of this incident were rapidly approaching the gate.

However, Chocolate, crouching at Miss Audrey's feet, saw the scene unfold. Its eyes lit up as it stood to attention.

The couple ran swiftly, and Jenkins, who had to protect a group of young women, certainly couldn't catch them. But because they ran so fast, they were the first to approach the living corpse of a gatekeeper holding a lantern made from a human head.

The gatekeeper turned, aiming the head at the group on the path. Laurel Lindsay's uncle once again opened the black book and rapidly recited a passage. Black smoke billowed from the book, and a magnificent, golden-maned lion sprang out with a majestic air. It pounced, tackling the living corpse of the gatekeeper. The man and woman, running fastest, seized the opportunity to dash past it, their hands reaching out excitedly for the iron gate.

But at that very moment, the beautiful, proud lion tilted its head back and roared. The sound was deafening, like the rumbling of distant thunder on a summer night, its booming echo spreading far across the night manor.

Laurel Lindsay's uncle and aunt stopped, staring back in stunned disbelief. Jenkins and the young women also stopped. Jenkins spun around to see the mansion's main door gaping wide open. From the massive oil painting that faced the entrance, the man who was half-skeleton was walking out.

The lion's roar shattered the silence, and with it, the oppressive but relatively safe atmosphere of the manor. Something deep within the manor had been awakened. It had discovered that someone was trying to escape. It had discovered that among this time's visitors was someone very... interesting.

Jenkins shouted again, no longer caring how loud his voice was. But even he felt as if his shoes had been filled with sand, making it difficult to lift his legs. The young women were even more helpless, unable to move at all, their faces masks of pure terror.