Chapter 1758: Chapter 1758

"Speaking of which, there's one more thing... After we leave this Mysterious Realm, there's no need to report what just happened."

He'd meant to say something else, but this felt more important. Jenkins gave the instruction with a touch of awkwardness, though he knew Sigrid would have understood anyway. After all, the young nun wouldn't want such a private moment exposed to others.

Because of what had just transpired, an inexplicable closeness had formed between them. After burying the fourth body, they received another ability, presented as a blank bubble. But this time, before the elf could even explain what it was, Sigrid firmly refused. She declared she had already received more than enough from Jenkins.

"A Green Life ability, [Bloodsourcce]. By touching fresh blood, you can trace it to its source. By tasting fresh blood, you can trace its bloodline. By injecting fresh blood... you can merge with the power of that lineage."

The elf's voice drifted from the opposite bank. Jenkins pictured himself cupping a handful of blood and drinking it down, and he shook his head violently at the image:

"What do you mean, 'merge with the power of that lineage'?" Read complete versıon only at NovєlFіre.net

"As long as you can obtain enough blood, you can absorb it into yourself, drawing out its power and making it your own. But this path is fraught with peril. Power that isn't yours can only lead to endless madness. When merging with a bloodline, you must be mindful of the limits of your own sanity..."

[Bloodsourcce (Green Life)] was a power only an Enchanter of the seventh level or higher could wield. In terms of effect, it was on par with the secret, demigod-level abilities of the major churches—a power far beyond ordinary mysteries.

But using [Bloodsourcce] to merge with a bloodline would contaminate one's own blood. It could even lead to a blood addiction more terrifying than the instincts of a vampire, requiring periodic 'blood therapy' just to remain lucid. Otherwise, one risked plunging into an abyss of madness at any moment.

He pressed the green, blood-flecked pearl to his heart, and the new ability immediately manifested before him. Jenkins let out a satisfied sigh, and then he heard the elf across the stream begin to chant once more:

"The oldest of stories, The world is a circle.

From one, it begins, To zero, it ends.

From you, it begins, In me, it ends.

Nature nurtures all things, All things nourish nature.

When a finger touches the rose, The dew on the petal moistens the finger.

All things return to one, And one returns to all.

The oldest of stories, Is also the story of now."

When the song ended, a pinprick of white light appeared at the edge of the darkness. It began to spin, rapidly forming a circular, luminous gate in the rain. The intense glare almost brought tears to Jenkins's eyes, which had grown accustomed to the dim surroundings. He threw an arm up to shield his face but didn't rush to leave.

He stuffed his restless cat back into his pocket and waited in silence for a few seconds. He watched as Sigrid walked quietly to the edge of the stream and came to a stop by the bank.

The nun felt completely different. Though the past few seconds had passed with no visible phenomenon, Jenkins understood that a presence vaster than the world itself had descended. He could feel the Mysterious Realm trembling. He could also feel the spirit of life within him—and even the two-thirds of a World Tree seed hanging around his neck—vibrating in response.

She exerted no pressure on him. In a very ordinary tone, Sigrid asked, "You don't seem surprised."

The same person, the same intonation, yet Jenkins could feel that the one speaking to him now was definitely not Sigrid.

"You certainly wouldn't borrow Mr. Saramanda's body from the other side of the stream, nor would you use mine. And I doubt my cat would be granted such an honor. So, is there really any need to guess the answer?"

He looked toward Sigrid, only to find her back was to him as she faced the stream. Jenkins could only see her from behind, but a single glance was enough to make him avert his eyes. For that brief moment, he felt as if he had just seen the entire world.

"You recognized the elf on the other bank?"

The voice wasn't necessarily beautiful, just somewhat ethereal. Listening closely, he could tell it was different from Sigrid's usual way of speaking.

"Yes. After all, I don't know many elves. So I suppose Mr. Saramanda's appearance here was no coincidence."

"Arranging for someone you knew to be here would likely lower your usual guard—your wariness of others discovering your secrets. This was conducive to the test..."

The conversation between them paused. Jenkins didn't pursue the topic. He glanced across the stream, where the elf had set his lute aside and was now prostrated on the gravelly bank in a strange posture.

"This must be our first meeting. Greetings, Lord of Blos—"

The being didn't interrupt his greeting, but Jenkins ultimately stopped himself from speaking the title. He noticed he was panting, which was not a good sign.

"Thank you for all the help you've given me... So, what is the true purpose of this meeting?"

"There's no need for such formalities with me. As for the purpose of this visit, don't you already know?"

The rain stopped falling, just as Jenkins had made it do earlier. The drops hung suspended in midair. A single green leaf flew out from in front of the young woman, who still had her back to Jenkins. As the leaf passed through the motionless drops, they slid aside, splashing into even finer droplets.

The green leaf finally came to a halt before Jenkins. He studied the golden veins tracing its surface:

"The divine domain of [Nature's Guardian]."

"It is what you deserve. Your perspective on nature is truly insightful. Even those exquisite souls born from nature itself likely could not have articulated what you just did. Accept it..."

"So, what is the price?"

"A price? You are a descendant of the priests of the World Tree."

"No, that is merely my qualification. I am asking about the price."

"When you cast off the shackles of mortality, you are to become the god of nature, not the god of lies."

In truth, Jenkins didn't know much about what becoming a god actually entailed. He'd had no questions before and held a favorable impression of the powers associated with the Lord of Blossoms. But that ten-second exchange had planted a seed of doubt.

"Oh, it seems you heard it. What a shame."

The words coming from a twenty-three-year-old's body sounded as playful as those of a sixteen-year-old girl.

Jenkins asked again, puzzled, then watched as the green leaf before him vanished into the rain.

"Since you heard it, let's just forget about it."

The golden-haired woman, her back still to him, shook her head.

"I don't think I refused you, did I?"

Jenkins thought to himself. He really had no reason to refuse; he had merely been asking about something that confused him.

"What was it I heard?"

He asked himself internally, and unfortunately came up with the answer that he hadn't heard anything at all.

"I'm sorry, was there something I was supposed to have heard?"

He didn't keep the question to himself, but asked it again.

"Some questions are best left unasked. Just as I will not ask who you truly are."

Jenkins's eyelids drooped for a moment, but he quickly recovered.

"So, what was this meeting truly about?"

He felt as if the being had just been toying with him, offering a divine domain only to snatch it back. It was different from the Mysterious Realm Mr. Augustus had invited him to; that offer of godhood had been genuine.

"I simply wanted to see you with my own eyes, to see what kind of person you are. And I am very satisfied. You truly deserve everything you now possess."

Jenkins remained silent.

"The end of the 18th Epoch has truly begun. The wrath of nature, the greed of humanity, and the sins of steam and machinery will together weave this eighteenth calamity. I hope that you can save all of this. Use your identity as a priest of the World Tree to show mortals the consequences of their endless taking from nature, but also to let them know that nature always holds a merciful heart."

"Of course, that's no problem. It's what I've been preparing to do all along."

"You are a very special person. In my long existence, I have seen countless living beings, yet I have never found another like you. I know some of those who enjoy revealing fate's secrets have likely told you about your essence. Yes, it is not the death that came from you dying once, nor is it the life that comes from this body. Your essence is your original form..."

This was the third time Jenkins had heard such a thing. He wanted to ask what his essence truly was—if it was fate itself—but he knew he would never get an answer. After a brief pause, he asked instead:

"Forgive me, but I'm in great trouble right now. I imagine you know about the Children of the Mist in Nolan City. I need new power, preferably the power of the World Tree."

He hadn't forgotten the reason he'd come here.

"The power of the World Tree Seedling is for you to explore on your own. I could help you, but you wouldn't want that, because it would not be something you found for yourself. However, I can give you a new power. Consider it a gift for following the path of nature and for your willingness to spread the principles of life in the material world. A gift for forging a new path for nature, and for pulling one of my followers from a state of sin."

Abruptly, the suspended raindrops began to fall again—but only the single drop directly above Jenkins's head.

The droplet struck him, yet it made the sound of falling into water—or perhaps it fell directly into Jenkins's heart. The icy sensation made his entire head go numb, but at the same time, his understanding of the rain deepened, becoming more intricate as the drop merged completely with his body.