Chapter 1777: Chapter 1777

Seeing Jenkins's persistent curiosity about the place, Lord Huntaugustus patiently continued his explanation:

"It's difficult to say what this place truly is. It could be someone's memory, a blank fragment of time caught between the fissures, a warped dimension, or even just a vast city hidden deep beneath the material world. But none of that truly matters..."

"The only problem is that leaving is a bit tricky. I can find the gateway for coming and going, but it requires a key."

"That's no problem. Just take me to the door, and I'll handle the key."

Jenkins replied at once, confident that one of the two keys in his possession—the Key of the Gate and the Silver Spoon—would surely work.

"Excellent. But how did you get in here? You're not in a spiritual state, and as far as I know, there are very few ways for a living person to enter the Soul Transit Station."

Now it was Lord Huntaugustus's turn to be perplexed.

Jenkins wasn't sure how he had arrived either, but he suspected the old woman was involved. He began his explanation from the moment she had appeared.

"That explains it. I doubt the Sage's Church would have any records on her. The old woman you spoke of is designated B-12-1-6213, the 'Unintentional Soul Guide.' In fact, I imagine only the Church of Death and End would have detailed files on her. The creation of this humanoid item is deeply connected to the 'Undying Underworld.' You could see it as the tragic outcome of a very old love story tangled up with some irreverent youths. I can't go into the specifics, but she bears no malice. The light around her intensifies as you approach because she once devoured a B-class extraordinary creature that resembled her... It's rather nauseating, so I'll spare you the description.

The Soul Guide's properties are quite straightforward. If you stare at her for more than seventy-four consecutive seconds, you must engage her in conversation before moving more than two thousand feet away. If you fail to do so, within twelve hours of exceeding that distance, you will gain the ability to see spiritual entities directly. In a small percentage of cases, you might see a death messenger like myself. In even fewer cases, the soul separates from the body with no way to return—in other words, death. And in extremely rare instances, the person simply vanishes from the material world, never to appear again.

Now you understand. That last property means the person was sent here, to the Soul Transit Station."

"So I just got unlucky?"

Jenkins shook his head with a small laugh, not at all vexed by the situation.

"I knew my luck had been running a little too hot lately. It was only a matter of time before something went wrong."

"I wouldn't call it entirely bad luck. After all, you found me. Shall we leave now? I recall a locked gateway nearby."

Lord Huntaugustus inquired, then added a word of caution:

"A place isn't meant for the living to linger. You may be powerful, but it's best not to test the limits of such a peculiar location."

Jenkins nodded. He was about to follow Lord Huntaugustus to find the door, but another thought struck him.

"Before we go, I'd like to find a particular soul and ask a few questions. Is that possible?"

"It is, as long as it doesn't take too much time. But there are far too many souls wandering the Soul Transit Station. I can only help you find those in the immediate vicinity."

Lord Huntaugustus agreed and left the office with Jenkins, stepping into the corridor. The gas lamp with its ghostly blue flame flickered out as they departed, but in the same instant, another lamp on the wall beside the office door ignited with a soft pop, casting its eerie blue glow over a small patch of the floor.

As they walked, only a single lamp would be lit at any given time, but its light was always enough to show them the way forward.

The soul of Tackwen the Proud was indeed nearby. The very layout of the Soul Transit Station is shaped by the subjective consciousness of the strongest soul observing it, so the area retained the structure of the church. Jenkins and Lord Huntaugustus eventually found him in the main hall, sitting on a long pew and staring up at the hanging holy emblem.

Where the emblem of the Sage should have been, there was instead the emblem of Death and End. This was the only detail, so far, that distinguished this place from the actual church.

"The Transit Station is filled with souls that lack consciousness and act only on instinct," Lord Huntaugustus explained. "They instinctively fear more powerful spirits, so if you wish to speak with one, you must first awaken its dormant consciousness."

He strode forward. Before Tackwen's soul could attempt to flee, he quickly extended a hand from beneath his robes and traced a symbol resembling an eye in the air.

The symbol shimmered, shrinking as it floated forward until it sank into the brow of the southern king's spirit. He froze in place, a dazed look on his face, before his expression slowly cleared as if waking from a long dream.

"It will only be effective for about twenty minutes,"

Lord Huntaugustus whispered, then quickly stepped away from Tackwen.

"More than enough time. I don't have many questions,"

Jenkins replied. He took a few steps forward as Tackwen the Proud's consciousness fully returned. The king didn't have a chance to take in his surroundings before his eyes landed on Jenkins.

That was his first question, his ghastly green, spectral face contorting in an expression of utter shock.

Jenkins denied it instantly.

"Does that mean... I'm not dead either?"

A flicker of relief crossed Tackwen's features. He quickly raised his right hand to touch his left arm, but the sensation of being a spirit was entirely different from being alive.

"No, you are well and truly dead. I'm just visiting. I'll be leaving shortly."

The hopeful expression on Tackwen's face slowly froze, the dynamic shift clearly revealing the turmoil of his thoughts.

"Of course. You're an Enchanter. Of course you could find me, even after death."

"No, this has nothing to do with being an Enchanter. It's just a matter of luck. I'm sorry, but you are truly dead. I don't believe there's any way to bring you back. I'm here because I need to ask you some questions."

His tone grew flat, and the eerie green glow of his form seemed to dim. The violent storm of emotions subsided as quickly as it had appeared, like a raging volcano falling silent once more.

"The autopsy revealed you died from pufferfish toxin. Do you know who killed you?"

"So that's how it happened."

Tackwen's expression grew even darker, though the change was subtle on his spectral form.

"It was likely someone from my own country. If I'm not mistaken, Dullin has already declared they will 'avenge' me, haven't they? What a shame. It seems the people I left behind and the plans I arranged have all failed. They must have discovered my intention to use the Tri-King Summit as an opportunity to borrow troops from your queen and King Salsi II of the northern kingdom. I was going to solve my domestic problems once and for all, so they struck first and killed me."

This was the first Jenkins had heard of such a plan. It sounded perfectly plausible, but he knew it was a lie.

"What was your plan?"

He was curious to see why the man would continue to lie, even in death.

"I intended to cede some territory and offer tariff concessions in exchange for borrowing the strength of the other two kingdoms to crush the political chaos back home in one decisive move..."

He trailed off, noticing the expression on Jenkins's face. He seemed to misinterpret it as disbelief and changed his tack.

"You think it's a terrible idea?"

"Yes. Even if you had succeeded, it would have meant that among the three great human kingdoms, Cheslan would be at the mercy of the other two for at least a century."

"But if I didn't, who's to say Cheslan would even exist in a hundred years? Or that it would still belong to my family, the Alecios? I know the decision sounds foolish. I even anticipated that if I succeeded, future historians would label me a traitor. But what does that matter? Everything I did was for my country, to ensure its survival."

If Jenkins hadn't known he was lying, he might have believed Tackwen had accepted his death and was finally speaking his heart—thoughts he would never have shared with another soul. But Jenkins didn't care about the king's inner thoughts. The matter had little to do with him, and he hadn't asked Lord Huntaugustus for help just to delve into the psyche of Tackwen the Proud.

"So, were the people who poisoned you the same ones who tried to kill you with a curse before?"

He changed the direction of his questioning.

"I believe so. I may not have been the most successful king, but I haven't committed any transgression that would warrant so many attempts on my life."

"In other words, you knew about the collaboration between high-ranking members of the Cheslan military and the Enchanters?"