Chapter 1809: Chapter 1809

As he entered the small hall and greeted the musicians, Jenkins found himself wondering how Hathaway had managed to arrive even faster than he had on his unicorn. They had both departed from the city, and even if she had left home immediately, there was no reason she should have outpaced a magical beast.

But he had no opportunity to ask. Seeing four women and a few scattered musicians seated in the front row, he walked over to them.

“You’re all here early,” he remarked.

“This meeting is too important for any mishaps,” Miss Bernreuter explained. “To prevent any unexpected issues, I’ve been here since lunch.”

She then gestured for Jenkins to look at the surrounding boxes, their curtains drawn tight.

“Besides us, a few other cults interested in cooperating have also sent representatives. But they don’t fully trust you yet, nor are they entirely confident in this collaboration. So, they’re observing from those boxes. If they approve of the terms you propose, they’ll reveal themselves.”

Although it was a small auditorium, there was a surprising number of boxes. Jenkins scanned the area with his Eye of Reality and saw that quite a few people had arrived early. He also spotted Magic Miss, a follower of the Lady of Mysteries and Rituals. Just as she had told him, her fellow believers weren't quite ready; they hadn't yet decided whether to trust an alliance with the Believers of Lies.

“You don’t have to tell me who’s here tonight, but I’d at least like to know how many heretical cults you managed to contact,” Jenkins inquired in a measured tone, choosing a seat in the front row by the central aisle. Hathaway was sitting on the other side of the aisle. Without even glancing at him, she kept her eyes fixed on the white cat.

“Seven,” Miss Stevel replied. “But if just four agree to work with you, we’re certain to attract more partners down the line.”

“The joint conference of the churches begins tomorrow. Are your people prepared?” Miss Harms asked.

“We’ve already obtained the current agenda,” he said. “The meetings will rotate among five local churches before moving to the Evergreen Forest, with one day set aside for recess. This creates a week-long cycle, which means we’ll need to infiltrate different churches on different days. But don’t worry, it won’t be difficult.”

He explained it all casually, then added a reminder.

“Unlike the Tri-King Summit, the churches’ conference won’t last very long. Many of the details have been under discussion for some time already. The formal conference is merely for announcing the outcomes that are suitable for public consumption. After all, this isn't the first catastrophe the material world has faced. The churches have plenty of experience to draw from.”

“So you’re saying you’ve already obtained the documents from the churches’ internal negotiations,” Hathaway stated.

“Of course,” Jenkins confirmed, having spent the last few days poring over those very files, anxious not to misspeak at the opening ceremony.

“That’s better than I expected. It seems your spy network is quite effective,” Miss Bernreuter commented.

“We’re still far behind the churches in that regard,” Jenkins replied, stroking his cat. Miss Stevel suspected a hidden meaning in his words.

Everyone had arrived earlier than scheduled, but the formal discussions still began at half-past seven. Before they started, the musicians gave an inspired performance on stage that lasted about twenty minutes. Through a stirring choral piece, they recounted the history and changes of the 18th Epoch, concluding with a magnificent ensemble that evoked the doomsday they were all now facing—a doomsday that was, in fact, already unfolding.

Their voices were excellent, and since Jenkins hadn’t had to pay for a ticket, he was more than happy to enjoy such a ceremonial performance.

As previously agreed, the Believers of Lies would grant the musicians preferential treatment. The terms discussed today were simply the standard offer for any heretical cult willing to lend its support. The specific arrangements for the musicians would be handled separately later.

In return for this special consideration from Candle Mr, the musicians would feign a united front with the observers in the boxes, all while playing the rather unglamorous role of advocates for his cause.

The terms Jenkins could offer to entice the pseudo-god cults were not material wealth; he believed that support bought with money was inherently disloyal and unreliable. So, what he offered was something even more tenuous: a verbal promise. It was the same rhetoric he’d used in his first meeting with the musicians, only this time the promise of "full support for their cults to walk freely in the material world and establish churches in the next epoch" was pared down to merely "being allowed to preach freely."

But this alone was a powerful enticement. The freedom to proselytize implied a great deal, not just an expansion in their numbers. It would allow their churches and deities to wield an influence completely unlike anything they had in the current epoch.

Since Jenkins couldn't offer anything tangible, he could only sit and describe his vision for the next epoch, his dream of a world where people of many faiths could walk together under a clear blue sky.

He wasn't a naturally skilled orator, but in his previous life, before he had become Jenkins, he had heard countless excellent speeches and witnessed many profoundly moving addresses. In this world where no one could call his bluff, borrowing a few lines here and there proved highly effective in persuading others.

At the very least, the musicians sitting beside him showed their approval. The Believers of Lies now demonstrated an intimate knowledge of the Orthodox Church and possessed a detailed plan with clear demands for the upcoming negotiations. Towards them, he had shown nothing but respect and a sense of equality. This "Liar" was a far cry from the rude, brutish, and cunning figure they had once imagined.

If they weren't meeting in secret in a small auditorium outside the city, they would have easily believed the man speaking before them was one of Nolan's most distinguished nobles.

During Jenkins's speech, there was a brief interruption. The roar of a dragon echoed from overhead, accompanied by the chaotic thundering of hooves. This was an opera house, and its soundproofing was superb. The fact that the sounds bled through meant a fierce battle was raging in the sky directly above them. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novel·fire.net

The noises quickly faded into the distance. Jenkins offered a word of reassurance to the crowd, explaining what the churches were up to. Most of the attendees, including those hidden in the boxes, were not from Nolan and were astonished to learn that there were dragons in the area. But on the whole, the matter was of little concern to them. After a few brief comments, they turned their attention back to Jenkins's speech.

Jenkins didn't use the power of his divine domain to deceive them. He explained his vision with genuine conviction.

The secret gathering was quite successful. In the end, five cults explicitly pledged to appear and support the Believers of Lies during the negotiations with the Orthodox Church. They also promised to lobby other pseudo-god cults to join their alliance.

Those who didn't commit on the spot didn't refuse either; they simply wanted to discuss the matter amongst themselves before making a decision.

However, they all agreed to a small favor: they would tell any friends they met that the Believers of Lies were gathering supporters. Since Jenkins’s faction seemed unconcerned with secrecy, they saw no reason to be discreet either.

As a precaution, after settling on a verbal agreement and arranging another meeting before the formal negotiations with the Orthodox Church, the crowd left in staggered groups. The musicians were the last to depart, as they had further matters to discuss with Jenkins once everyone else was gone.

“Has everyone left?” Miss Stevel asked, directing her question to a woman who had just entered from outside. The woman had just checked all the boxes to make sure no one was lingering to eavesdrop.

“They’re all gone,” she confirmed. “And as per Candle Mr’s instructions, I’ve removed what was stuck to the walls.”

She held up a handful of shattered metal fragments—the remains of a talisman.

“It’s good they’re gone. We can talk now,” said Miss Harms, the “Composer of the Score.” “Candle Mr, I had expected you to produce some kind of contract for everyone to sign before they left.”

“Do you take me for a demon from hell?” Jenkins said. “Even the most ironclad contract cannot bind a determined traitor. We have no need for paper documents, because we are certain that no one will be able to deceive us.”

“The way you say that, it sounds like everyone is acting according to your plan,” Miss Stevel asked with suspicion. “Have you orchestrated some grander deception to ensnare us?”

“Miss, you need proof to back up such claims. Besides, what could you women possibly have that would be worth my effort to deceive you?”

Seeing one of them about to speak, Jenkins added with a nod, “And yes, I know you’re all very beautiful, but trust me, I’ve seen my fair share of pretty faces.”

Hathaway, who had been watching the cat the whole time, shot him a suspicious look.

“Instead of worrying about being deceived by me, why not show me more sincerity? You know my intentions are genuine. In the coming negotiations with the churches, we will fight to secure rights for all upstanding followers of the pseudo-gods. And as our earliest allies, I can guarantee that whatever the Believers of Lies receive, you will receive as well.”

He felt a pang of guilt as he spoke. His ultimate plan was for the Believers of Lies to exit the stage entirely, with all glory and honor falling upon the Church’s Saint Son, Jenkins Williams. Of course, he wouldn’t leave these women empty-handed. When all was said and done, as a reward for their help in the Church’s “defeat” of the Believers of Lies, the Saint Son would recommend they be granted highly preferential treatment.

“And this promise won’t be put in writing either?” “Archbishop” Lydia Bernreuter suddenly interjected. The other musicians turned their gazes to him as well.

“If you wish, we can certainly create a written record,” Jenkins replied. “But don’t expect me to sign my real name—that’s out of the question.”