Chapter 1786: Chapter 1786
The instant the black light enveloped him, it felt as though his entire body was being pricked by countless fine needles. Jenkins went limp, his grip instinctively slackening, and the faerie slipped from his grasp like a slick eel.
"Blasphemous Creation!"
Though his body was paralyzed, his mind remained perfectly clear. Still bathed in the lingering black light, Jenkins pointed to where the faerie had landed and summoned his vines. They erupted as commanded, but the faerie was too quick. It hit the ground and dove straight into the floorboards as if they were water. The vines thrashed furiously against the solid tiles for a long moment before reluctantly retreating through the spatial rift.
Lying on the floor, he muttered a complaint. The black light hadn't affected his mind, but his body was utterly drained, as if he'd just finished a grueling marathon. It produced a jarring disconnect between his body and soul, a sensation Jenkins had never felt before.
At the same time, his flamboyant, multicolored clothes began to fade like a stain in the rain. The comfortable fabric yellowed and grew brittle, until his entire outfit had devolved into nothing more than tied-up straw. Even the red silk cord around his neck, from which the two parts of the World Tree Seedling hung, had become a coarse straw rope.
Fortunately, the two pieces of the seedling—the two-thirds and the one-third—had been shielded by his clothes and were unaffected. Jenkins, however, was far more worried about his cat. The black light had been all-encompassing; there was no way the creature on his shoulder could have avoided it.
"If the white light causes evolution, does the black light cause... devolution?"
The image of the "giant rat-man infant" he'd discovered in the storeroom flashed through his mind, and a wave of horror washed over him.
As if in answer to his thoughts, the cat appeared before him. Jenkins, still lying on his side and recovering, watched as it meowed pitifully. It wobbled as it walked, seemingly unable to control its own limbs.
Then, with an abrupt plop, it fell flat right in front of him. Its small head rested on the floorboards as it gazed miserably at Jenkins, who was in a similar state.
"Oh, my Chocolate..."
He couldn't bear to witness such a cruel sight. A mysterious surge of strength enabled him to struggle upright, and he gently scooped up the cat, intending to place it in his pocket... only to remember his clothes were now just a ring of straw. He had no pockets.
Once that first bit of strength returned, it acted like a seed, prompting the rest of his body to recover quickly. The flame within his soul and the power of the Sacred Spring Vial lent their restorative energies to the process. About five minutes later, feeling perfectly fine, Jenkins got to his feet. He gently massaged Chocolate while activating his Eye of Reality to scan his surroundings.
"If I hadn't been worried about getting that door open, I would have just used 'Blasphemous Creation' from the start," he thought. "I wouldn't have wasted my breath on all that pointless chatter."
He berated himself for his earlier foolishness, but he also knew that he couldn't risk it. Even if he caught the creature again, he wouldn't dare use Blasphemous Creation. If Papa Oliver, Old Jack, and Miss Stevel were truly lost forever, he would be haunted by regret for the rest of his days.
The cyan-skinned, large-eyed faerie was gone. It was an expert at hiding; if it had merely turned invisible, his Eye of Reality could have found it. But an ability akin to "Shadow Traversal" meant it had slipped into another dimension, and against that, Jenkins was powerless.
He left the washroom and found a change of clothes in one of the guest rooms, swapping them for the bundle of straw. Then he returned to the sealed door of Papa Oliver's bedroom. Imitating Miss Stevel, he took out the [Key of Doors] and thrust it toward the lock.
The key never made contact; it was flung back violently. In that brief moment, however, his Eye of Reality perceived peculiar ripples of spirit forming in the air. It would take a tremendous amount of force to repel such a powerful key from his tight grip, and the resulting spiritual fluctuations were immense. Like the waves from a massive boulder dropped into a lake, the ripples lingered, refusing to dissipate.
The entire antique shop was now suffused with a clashing aura of black and yellow spirit, and the ripples from the door were affecting the entire area. If Alexia Miller or Magic Miss were here, Jenkins felt sure they could analyze the phenomenon, pinpoint a weakness in the sealed space, and find a way through.
Unfortunately, Jenkins lacked their profound expertise, so seeing the ripples didn't help him formulate a plan. Still, the fluctuations did reveal one thing: the black spiritual aura wasn't uniform. This allowed him to identify several points where the Cursed Item's power was most concentrated. And at each of these points, he found a symbol identical to the one he'd seen behind the headboard. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novèlfire.net
This wasn't some grand ritual laid out according to the shop's architecture, however. Though Jenkins had been dabbling in the world's mysteries for less than a year, his knowledge of ritual magic was respectable enough to recognize that these were not the traces of a ceremony.
The Cursed Item's nature was causing these hidden symbols to manifest throughout the building, an effect likely triggered by the cyan-skinned faerie.
The symbols were concealed in inconspicuous locations throughout the building, like the back of the headboard. The one nearest to Papa Oliver's door was hidden behind a gas lamp on the wall. Jenkins pressed his finger against it and instantly felt a sharp prick, as if someone had poked him with a toothpick.
He withdrew his hand, but the wall remained unchanged. After a moment's thought, he wreathed his fingertip in blessed fire, rose onto his toes, and pressed it against the symbol once more.
The floor beneath him gave a violent shudder, as if something massive were writhing below. But that was impossible—the first floor was directly beneath him, with no space for any large creature. Frowning, he kept his finger pressed to the strange symbol. The vibrations intensified until the entire house began to shake.
The floor, ceiling, and walls started to ripple like overlapping waves on water, the violent swaying making it nearly impossible for Jenkins to stay on his feet. At that moment, the beam of black light shot down the hallway again. Prepared this time, Jenkins conjured a mirror in mid-air to intercept it.
But it wasn't truly light; it was the physical manifestation of some other power. The mirror "devolved" into a chunk of stone and clattered to the floor. And once again, Jenkins was struck by the black beam.
He expected the same result as before—to be left utterly powerless, collapsed on the floor. He'd even concocted a plan to feign unconsciousness, lure his enemy into the open, and then unleash a devastating counterattack.
But the cyan-skinned faerie was ready for him. As the black light shot forth, a white beam—the light of evolution—erupted from its left eye.
The two beams struck him in quick succession. The stinging pain and the comforting sensation of a warm shower washed over his body at once. The bizarre feeling made his skin burn, and he quickly reached his breaking point.