Chapter 1752: Chapter 1752

The rain beat against the pebbles and the stream, creating a dense, rhythmic tattoo.

Jenkins hesitated, deciding against using his [Life Source] to grow a tree for shelter. The general rule in a Mysterious Realm was that an ability could only be used once, and he wasn't certain he wouldn't need it later. While life-based rituals could be performed multiple times, Jenkins hadn't learned any for growing plants. The few elven rituals the old elf had taught him were geared more toward combat.

"Do you know any rituals for growing plants quickly?"

Jenkins turned to his companion. Sigrid hailed from the Church of All Things and Nature; surely she would know such a ritual.

"I do, but it takes time to prepare and requires certain materials... Besides, I didn't bring any waterproof chalk."

The blonde young woman explained apologetically, having guessed his intention to find shelter from the rain. Jenkins tilted his head back, gazing at the sky, a rainy, dark expanse like an abyss. All they could do was wait patiently for the corpse to drift toward them.

He could, of course, have used his cane to grow a tree. It was a C-class Bestowal of the life attribute, and such items could be used without restriction in a Mysterious Realm. However, Jenkins had used this very weapon in his guise as a Believer of Lies, and the woman beside him was exceptionally sensitive to the energies of life. If he used the cane carelessly, Sigrid might grow suspicious.

He trusted Sigrid, of course, but he saw no need to take such a risk merely to avoid getting wet. So, they continued to stand in the downpour. Naturally, Jenkins would make sure the lady didn't fall ill from the exposure.

The stream before them was not turbulent, but it was wide, and the dim light made it impossible to gauge its depth. As he listened to the rain, Jenkins gradually relaxed. The patter against the water and pebbles had a peculiar rhythm, and as he lost himself in the sound, he felt the faint touch of something indescribable.

The woman beside him pointed upstream into the darkness. Jenkins followed her gesture and saw a dark shape drifting down with the current. He let out a breath of relief as it neared. He had been worried the corpse would be horribly bloated or otherwise disfigured, but the figure floating in the water looked more like a person sleeping. There were no visible wounds, no swelling, and no signs of decay.

"But... why does that person look so familiar?"

He told Sigrid to wait on the gravelly shore while he waded into the stream. The water wasn't deep, but the cold was biting, and Jenkins couldn't help but shiver. Shifting his cat to the pocket inside his coat, he struggled to pull the body back to the bank.

To his relief, the body didn't suddenly reanimate or do anything else he might have dreaded. Sigrid came to help, and together they hauled the corpse fully onto the pebble shore. It was only then that Jenkins got a clear look at its face.

"Papa Oliver?" The rıghtful source is N0velFire.ɴet

Sigrid recognized the face too. The old man, eyes closed and complexion as pale as parchment, was unmistakably Papa Oliver.

"No, this isn't real. Don't worry."

She wiped the rain from her face and looked up at Jenkins, speaking quickly. His expression remained placid, showing no sign of distress at the sight of the body.

"Of course it's not real. How could Papa Oliver die so easily?"

If that key could be undone so easily, Jenkins mused, Papa Oliver wouldn't have had to struggle with his curse for all those years.

As he spoke, Jenkins placed his fingers on the corpse's forehead.

"It's definitely a corpse. Once alive, now dead."

He meant it was a genuine body—once a living being, now deceased—and not some alchemical construct.

"So... should we bury him now?"

Sigrid's voice was faint against the sound of the rain. She was still worried that the sight of the body would upset Jenkins.

With that, he reached into the pockets of the corpse's overcoat but found them empty. After a moment's thought, Jenkins started the task of burying the body.

There was no soil nearby, so they laid the body flat and began gathering pebbles to cover it. The task was tedious, made more so by the pouring rain, but compared to the challenges of past Mysterious Realms, it was almost laughably simple.

Yet both Jenkins and Sigrid knew it wouldn't be that simple. And sure enough, before they had even covered a third of the body with pebbles, the corpse spoke, its eyes still shut. The voice was unmistakably Papa Oliver's.

"Is the existence of the undying justifiable?"

"It is not," Jenkins replied. "It disrupts the natural order, the cycle of life and death."

"It is unjustifiable," Sigrid added. "Life and death are both part of the natural process. To be undying is to be incomplete."

"But the gods are also immortal."

the corpse countered, its hand suddenly seizing Jenkins's wrist.

"You are also immortal... Therefore, you were lying just now."

Jenkins frowned. He saw Sigrid's look of surprise from the corner of his eye, but she remained silent, offering no opinion. He continued,

"Generations of humanity are born and die in numbers that correspond to the energy limits of the material world. That is the way of nature. To be undying means to constantly consume the world's resources, adding a fixed quantity outside the natural fluctuations of the population. It violates the principles of nature, which is why I say it disrupts the order of life and death.

The gods, however, are different. Their numbers are finite, and they serve to perfect the world's rules, to raise its very limits. Their immortality is one and the same with the world's own eternity. In a sense, the gods are the world itself."

"So both life and death are part of nature?"

the corpse inquired again. Jenkins nodded, shaking his hand free from its grasp and resuming his task of gathering pebbles.

"Of course. Nature encompasses all things, and all things experience both life and death. Therefore, both are part of nature," he said. "Nature is magnificent, yes. Truly magnificent, for it contains everything."

He hadn't needed to add that last part; he'd thrown it in for good measure.

At these words, a smile formed on the corpse's lips, and it fell silent. It offered no resistance as Jenkins and Sigrid continued to cover it with pebbles. Soon, all that remained was a man-shaped mound, though glimpses of dark fabric were still visible through the gaps between the stones.

Jenkins put an arm around the shivering Sigrid, lending her some of his warmth. Together, they slowly backed away, their eyes fixed on the green flames that began to lick up from between the pebbles.

The flames were strangely enchanting and utterly unaffected by the downpour. They shot upward, defying the rain, leaping and dancing in the air without a single sound. The fire appeared abruptly and vanished just as suddenly, and as it did, the man-shaped mound on the ground slowly settled, becoming level with the shore.