Chapter 1677: Chapter 1677
The Perfume Appreciation Committee's simple classification was merely based on physical appearance, but in reality, the creatures' forms of power were remarkably similar. They were born from the mist, and upon being killed, their power returned to the mist. As the fog-covered areas around Nolan continued to expand, the number of these continuously spawning monsters would only increase.
The Perfume Appreciation Committee even stated outright in their report that they believed the fog around Nolan would accumulate enough power to undergo a second qualitative change by next month, the Month of the Hermit and Thunder. After that, the fog's "evolution" would accelerate until it completely consumed the entire city of Nolan.
But the tobacco peddlers believed that before the fog swallowed the city, its very nature would cause it to resonate with other dense fogs across the world, linking the disparate fog-shrouded regions together.
When that time came, the fog would obscure the sun, and people would no longer see the sun, moons, or stars. A gray sky would become the dominant feature of the material world, and the resulting natural calamities would be enough to bring about the end of the world.
"That's a terrifying prediction, but it sounds like it could be true."
Jenkins put down the report and gazed out the window. Although it was a summer afternoon, the sun wasn't harsh, as the dense fog shielded the city from its rays. A hazy grayness shrouded everything outside, and Jenkins was convinced that if this continued, the tobacco peddlers' predictions would certainly come true.
"Quite a few people have seen this report now, and most agree it's highly credible. To be safe, we've already asked the followers of the Spiraling Mist, who are active on the continent's east coast, to help us interpret it. We'll probably hold a meeting in the next few days to discuss this matter. Nolan's fog is a grave danger now~"
Jenkins questioned her, stroking his cat.
For a rare moment, Jenkins questioned Miss Bevanna, but she seemed to have anticipated his reaction.
"I know what you're suggesting is the best course of action, but would shutting down Nolan's factories even help? The problem isn't just Nolan anymore. Similar phenomena are appearing around every industrial city in the world, just not as severe. Even if we shut down all of Nolan's factories, the fog drifting in from neighboring cities would eventually cover Nolan all the same.
To solve this problem, the most thorough solution is to have the secular mortals sign a treaty, to gradually weaken all sources of the dense fog worldwide through regulations and reform."
"I know reform doesn't happen overnight, but I'm worried that if this continues, Nolan will be in serious trouble before next month even arrives," Jenkins said with concern, his hand slowing as he stroked his cat.
This displeased Chocolate, who batted at Jenkins's hand with a small paw. Thinking the cat was too warm and didn't want to be petted, Jenkins withdrew his hand. The cat, completely misunderstood, could only lie on Jenkins's lap and sulk.
Although many problems lay ahead, the successful raid on the Perfume Appreciation Committee had filled everyone with the confidence to face the next challenge. It was a good start.
The Church planned to follow the existing clues to track the members of the Tree House, discover the true purpose of the anomalous tobacco, and uncover the secrets of the Gear Artisans' Association underground. Meanwhile, the combat teams were reorganizing their patrol schedules based on the abilities of the Crawlers in the Fog, and the Church delegation was redrafting the terms for the upcoming negotiations, hoping to convene their meeting as soon as possible after the Tri-King Summit.
Even Jenkins had his own tasks. That evening, after relaying the day's events to Papa Oliver at Pops Antique Shop, Pops concluded that Jenkins needed to learn abilities specifically tailored to the fog's characteristics.
"Although the Believers of Lies still stand in your path to becoming a Savior, I believe you must now consider what you will do after you have truly defeated them."
Papa Oliver had great faith in Jenkins and was looking far into the future. The only problem was that Jenkins was nominally a level six Enchanter, and in the Church's view, his last remaining ability slot was reserved for The Book's Blessing. He had no room to learn a new skill.
Good news always seemed to arrive in clusters, much like misfortune. On the same day the Perfume Appreciation Committee was dismantled, the Tri-King Summit also achieved a momentous breakthrough.
On the war front, Queen Isabella had made a significant concession. She promised that if Cheslan agreed to surrender, Fidektri, in return, would not demand any territorial cessions or even a single copper penny in war reparations. However, Tackwen the Proud One would have to personally deliver the instrument of surrender and declare it on Fidektri soil.
Although Tackwen the Proud One's purpose on this trip was peace, it was more importantly about gaining the decisive political capital to prevail in the struggle against the war faction back home. For him to surrender on behalf of the entire kingdom was, of course, a great humiliation, a scandal that would surely be recorded in the history books. But if this surrender came at no cost, then the scandal might not necessarily be a bad thing.
After all, ever since the Fidektri navy had fully committed to the war, the scales of victory had already tipped. To cease hostilities now might not be the best option, but it was certainly better than fighting to the bitter end only to be forced into surrender.
The Proud One of the south was not without confidence in his own country's military. It was just that for some unknown reason, King Salsi II, who had previously maintained a neutral stance, had recently shown signs of supporting Fidektri, even proposing a marriage alliance between the two royal families. This forced King Tackwen to make the decision to sign.
Jenkins had been busy at the church all day, so he only heard the news that the war might end within days from Briny that evening. The current situation was sensitive, making it inappropriate for Jenkins to meet publicly with Marquis Mikhail and Earl Hersha, who held military command. Thus, some intelligence was relayed to Jenkins through the young ladies.
"That's truly good news."
The successive pieces of good news lifted Jenkins's spirits. He had been so preoccupied with various matters lately that he had barely had a moment's rest during the day. Now that the war was ending and an illegal organization in Nolan had been eliminated, he believed everything would start to improve.
The next morning, Jenkins received a letter delivered by a messenger from Queen Isabella. It instructed him to attend that afternoon's meeting, in his capacity as a member of the royal family, to witness a momentous historical event. Jenkins understood then that the news of the Proud One's intention to bow his head and surrender was true, and that the final agreement was very likely to be reached that afternoon.
Jenkins was, of course, delighted to be a witness to history. Coincidentally, after the eradication of the Perfume Appreciation Committee, the Church had not yet assigned him any new tasks. So he returned to the tedious meetings he had been away from for days, eagerly anticipating the moment he would see the war come to an end.
The afternoon meeting began at half-past one. As it was a closed-door session, there were fewer than thirty people in Small Conference Room No. 3, including the non-speaking observers.
But among those thirty people were three kings, seven powerful dukes, and five princes. Everyone in the room knew what was to happen that afternoon, but because the Proud One repeatedly haggled over the manner and location of the surrender, the meeting dragged on until nearly three o'clock before the final memorandum of understanding was finally signed.
When the documents were sealed by each of the three parties and the table was cleared, it signaled that the negotiations over the continuation of the war had at last reached their conclusion. Although the three kingdoms would have many more complicated details to discuss one by one, this successful first step left everyone exceptionally excited. Content orıginally comes from novel·fiɾe·net
Everyone rose to their feet and applauded, even the somber-faced Tackwen clapped his hands symbolically. Queen Isabella, her white hair making her seem frail as she was helped to her feet, looked ten years younger, having fully recovered from the poisoning incident last week. She beamed, her eyes crinkling as she clapped, her gaze sweeping from the left side of the small conference room to the right.
Here were her friends, her enemies, her family, and her successor. No sight could have brought her more joy. To have achieved this before leaving the world made the face of the monarch, who had reigned for over fifty years, flush a deep red.
Overcome with emotion, she even felt a bit unsteady on her feet, feeling herself sway. But she soon realized it was not due to her own physical weakness, because everything before her—the tables, chairs, chandeliers, and people—was shaking violently.
A rumbling sound echoed from the distance, like a great beast churning the earth. It was another earthquake, and this one was even more intense than the one on the opening day of the Tri-King Summit.
The violent tremors made it difficult for people to even stand, but since this was not their first time experiencing such an event, after the initial panic, they trusted the quality of the building and began to evacuate in an orderly manner, just as they had before.
The summit was not confined to a single conference room. While the kings discussed matters of great importance, other nobles and officials were negotiating other issues elsewhere.
In the end, nearly two hundred people evacuated from the city hall, and that was only counting the participants, not the servants and guards. When they stepped outside and looked toward the source of the earlier roar, they discovered that the Nolan Clock Tower, which should have been standing a block away, now looked entirely different.
"Was the Nolan Clock Tower always black?"
Queen Isabella asked Jenkins, leaning on him for support. The old woman's hand gripped his arm like a vise, her entire weight pressing down on him. While Jenkins had no trouble bearing the weight, on such a hot day, he particularly disliked being in such close contact with anyone other than his cat or the young ladies.