Chapter 1795: Chapter 1795

"The others have set up a perimeter to prevent any cultists or monsters from escaping. Our original plan was for the five of us to strike first, lure the enemy into the encirclement, and then finish it off. We just didn't expect the Believers of Lies to be so fast."

The demigod from the Church of Creation and Machinery replied to Jenkins's question.

"The Believers of Lies must have planned to attack the Gear Artisans' Guild stronghold today all along. When the first explosion went off, I was still in the city, not yet in the mining district. Looking back at the timeline, they must have made their move the moment I heard the wrench had been stolen."

Jenkins nodded as he spoke, and no one else detected anything amiss in his words. After a brief rest, he asked again about Pops Antique Shop, but the five demigods had come from the Evergreen Forest. Their mission was to find the wrench; the situation at the antique shop was being handled by the churches within the city.

"Alright then, I can't rest yet; I have to go back now. As for this..."

He hefted the hammer in his hand:

"I'll hang onto this for now. There might be another fight soon."

"No problem. Let me take you back; it will save time. All that’s left here is cleanup—scouring the battlefield, preserving any valuable remains, and guarding against a counterattack. I’ll drop you at the Legacy Sage Church and come right back. It shouldn't take long."

As she spoke, the demigod from the Church of Creation and Machinery extended her hand. Jenkins didn't refuse. He bent down to scoop up his cat before rising into the sky with her.

At her suggestion, Jenkins sought out the Keeper of Secrets on duty for the day, an old woman named Mrs. Henriettri. She was a rare sight; in the nearly a year since Jenkins had become a Scribe, he had seen her in the church fewer than ten times.

"Smith and Bevanna have gone to the antique shop together, Saint Williamette. You needn't worry. Just wait patiently; they'll be back soon. The Church stationed Papa Oliver in Nolan for a reason—the Nolan diocese has a way to suppress that key. I imagine you know which key I mean. Young Stevel should have mentioned it to you."

Mrs. Henriettri was certainly older than any Keeper of Secrets Jenkins had ever met, yet she still referred to Oliver as 'Papa'. It made him wonder just how old the man truly was.

"Can you tell me what the Church's method of suppression is? It's not just the power of the key in the antique shop anymore. There's also a terrifying Cursed Item in there."

"Don't worry. The Cursed Item Smith took with him can suppress any numbered item powered by 'Evolution and Devolution'. It is the most dangerous Cursed Item contained by the Nolan diocese, and it cannot be removed from the Nolan area. It's precisely because it can counteract Papa Oliver's key that he has lived in Nolan for so long."

Every region has its own history, its own stories. While Nolan City wasn't a human settlement from the most ancient of Epochs, like Black Town, the area is still steeped in tales and legends. According to reliable historical records, since it was first chronicled, Nolan has undergone endless geological transformations—cycling from city to wilderness, wilderness to ocean, ocean to forest, and back again. These countless cycles have buried innumerable secrets deep within the land, including the intelligent machine Jenkins had named the Difference Engine.

The Cursed Item the Keeper of Secrets mentioned had been discovered in the early eighteenth Epoch, before the unified Sicari Empire had even been founded. It was found during a renovation of the Nolan church. While excavating the underground sections, workers unearthed a solid gold box hidden within an earthen wall, less than ten feet from one of the original subterranean rooms.

No one knew who, or from what era, had placed the golden box containing the Cursed Item there. It wasn't even clear which was older: the Nolan church or the box itself.

Inside the box was the fossilized corpse of a serpent-person infant. The baby was curled up, looking as if it had been permanently frozen in time before it could even awaken in the womb.

A-09-1-4865, The Infant's Anchor. Only the solid gold box could contain the infant's fossil. No other vessel, no other location—not even the Gate of All Things—could suppress the Cursed Item's effects.

While contained within the golden box, the Cursed Item is inert; one could even open the box and touch it without consequence. However, the moment the serpent-person infant's fossil is removed, it automatically emits a sound like a baby's wail. At the same time, the growth cycle of anyone within the cry's range comes to a complete halt.

This didn't grant immortality. Those affected would still die when their time came; they would simply remain in the physical state they were in at the moment they heard the cry, right up until their death.

The effect was somewhat similar to A-01-2-3000, the Unaging Spring. But while the Unaging Spring only preserved one's appearance as the body aged internally, the Infant's Anchor froze the entire growth cycle.

But there was a reason the Infant's Anchor was classified as a Cursed Item with a danger rating of 1. Any intelligent being affected by it was, in reality, plunged into a state of 'evolutionary stagnation'. In other words, any concept or power related to 'evolution' connected to the affected individual would cease to advance.

This stagnation extended to an individual's artistic and scientific creativity, and even to the 'evolution' of human procreation. The offspring of an affected person would never exhibit genetic traits superior to their parents. Furthermore, they would invariably inherit the 'evolutionary stagnation' trait themselves, with their own growth halting at the same age their parent had been.

This meant that as those affected by the Infant's Anchor reproduced, 'evolutionary stagnation' would spread through the population generation by generation. More and more people would be caught in this state until the entire species ground to a complete evolutionary halt.

It wasn't just biological evolution; science, art, culture—everything would stagnate. Jenkins couldn't begin to imagine the consequences, because when the golden box had been discovered, its effects, and those of the infant fossil, had been meticulously inscribed upon it using blasphemous script, elemental oscillation frequencies, and simple pictograms.

Furthermore, a map on the box marked the boundaries the Infant's Anchor could not cross—an area corresponding to modern-day Nolan and its surrounding towns. If it were ever taken beyond this perimeter, the golden box's containment effect would instantly fail.

Later, after verifications conducted at great cost, the Church confirmed that the inscriptions on the box were completely accurate. Thus, the item was permanently contained in Nolan. As for its origin, the prevailing theory within the Church was that it was likely left behind by an extinct race that inhabited the region in one of the earliest Epochs—their only remaining trace, and a dire warning to posterity.

Jenkins had never even heard that Nolan possessed such an object, but really, there was no reason he should have. Access to information on items of this nature wasn't granted based on rank. For things , the fewer people who knew, the better. Ideally, only three people in each generation would be privy to the secret, ensuring it was passed down in perpetuity.

Papa's key had lost control on two separate occasions, fifty-three and twenty-six years ago. Both times, the Infant's Anchor had been used to temporarily suppress it. The Church was confident it would work again. As for that cyan sprite, the 'Disaster Evolver', it would almost certainly be suppressed by the Anchor's effect as well. That was why the Keeper of Secrets had told Jenkins not to worry.

Jenkins waited at the church for an hour, and in that time, he inquired about the third tier of the black tower that had risen. This new section was taller and wider than the two above it, and its material was completely different from the previous tiers.

Unlike the first tier, which had a bare exterior, and the second, which was covered in shifting engravings, this third tier—counting from the top down—bore clear, legible runes.

Their approximate meaning was 'Town Under the Moon' and 'Blood of Frenzy', but the Church couldn't comprehend the significance of their appearance.

The investigation into the metal tower had been underway for half a month with little progress. The Church intended to communicate with the Believers of Lies after the joint conference concluded, hoping to resolve the matter of the tower together. For the moment, rashly attempting to destroy it was not a wise choice—not to mention, they currently had no means of doing so.

A weary Miss Bevanna didn't return until half-past eleven. Mr. Smith had already left again for the black tower. Old Jack and Papa Oliver returned with her, followed by a temporary squad of more than thirty Scribes tasked with escorting the Infant's Anchor.

"Papa, are you alright?"

Jenkins hurried to the church entrance to meet them. Papa Oliver looked the same as ever, seemingly unaffected. Old Jack, however, looked a bit pale, which Jenkins attributed to him getting swept up in the incident after a long journey, without even having had breakfast. Googlᴇ search nοvelfire.net

"I'm fine, Jenkins," Papa said. "Come with me for a moment."

Papa Oliver instructed. Jenkins hesitated for a moment before nodding, glancing at Miss Bevanna, who simply gestured for him to go along without a second thought.

They found an empty room in the church, and Papa Oliver, his expression grim, motioned for Jenkins to sit.

It was a guest bedroom, normally used for temporary lodging. Jenkins took the chair at the desk, while Papa sat directly on the pristine bedspread:

"About me... what did Lena tell you?"

Jenkins paused for a moment, then realized he was referring to Miss Stevel by her first name.

"I know the basics," he replied. "About the key, and the curse."

He said, stroking the cat on his lap. Chocolate let out a low, strange purr, its mood impossible to decipher.