Chapter 2015: Chapter 2015
“Isn't that young king your fiancé? How can you not be worried at all?”
Only after Miss Bevanna had departed did Miss Bernreuter turn to Hathaway.
“What makes you think I'm not worried?”
Hathaway demanded, a hint of irritation in her voice. She stared out the window, her expression fraught with worry, half-expecting the man with the cat to suddenly appear and declare that everything Miss Bevanna had said was just a joke. If not for the constraints of her station, she would have rushed to Jenkins's side in an instant.
“Then why not seek help from the Believers of Lies?”
Miss Bernreuter, lounging on the plush sofa, tilted her head and asked with a curious expression.
“How could I possibly go to them now?”
“Is there some problem? Isn't Mr. Candle your friend?”
The red-haired woman fell into a quiet melancholy.
It was now half an hour until the two o'clock negotiations were set to begin. The rain intensified, and a thick fog began to permeate the city—a phenomenon no one had ever witnessed before.
The Sage's Church was a hive of frantic activity, but assembling a team to venture into an unknown dreamscape wasn't something that could be prepared in a matter of minutes.
But while the Church was still making its preparations, a bolt of unnatural black lightning split the sky, striking the metal tower amidst the storm. It was followed by a psychic shockwave, imperceptible to the naked eye, that radiated out from the black tower, sweeping across the entire city.
A psychic blast of that magnitude was powerful enough to shatter the minds of ordinary, weak-willed people. Fortunately, the Church had erected layers of defenses and countermeasures around the tower, which barely managed to contain the shockwave.
Still, those with a keen sixth sense felt a jarring disturbance in that instant, though none could say what had just occurred.
Following the surge of immense psychic energy, the agitated spirits within the swirling gray mist spawned even more Crawlers in the Fog. Simultaneously, a tremor began, its epicenter at the black tower, and rippled out across the city.
Papa Oliver, who happened to be standing by the window, gazed up at the sky. A long moment passed before he spoke:
“Who could be so furious?”
“Damn you, Jenkins Williams! You liar!”
A voice declared—a voice that seemed to rise from the very earth beneath them, yet was impossibly loud and clear. The final word, "liar," echoed again and again, leaving no doubt as to the sheer fury of the speaker. It was not merely the shame of being outwitted, but the incandescent rage of having one's dignity utterly crushed. The emotion was unmistakable.
It wasn't just Papa Oliver; every single person living in the city heard that furious denunciation.
The mere thought of a being with such a colossal voice existing right beneath their feet sent an incomprehensible, bone-chilling fear creeping into their hearts. This update ıs available on NoveI-Fire.ɴet
Papa Oliver spun around to look at Jenkins. The cat resting beside him lifted its head as well, and together they saw the flame on the blue candle guttering, about to be extinguished.
Just as the tremor subsided, a violent earthquake erupted, coinciding with the appearance of the tower's eighth level, plunging the storm-swept city of Nolan into further chaos. The very ground seemed to roil in fury as black lightning bolts rained down from the heavens.
The gray mist howled, shrouding the sky and blanketing the earth. The earthquake triggered a tsunami, and towering waves crashed against the docks. Though the Church of Ocean and Exploration managed to repel the first onslaught, the enraged sea would not be so easily appeased.
An apocalyptic scene had descended upon them with terrifying suddenness. And yet, the voice that had cursed Jenkins fell silent after that single outburst.
But it was replaced by the sound of a horn—a long, resonant blast that seemed to herald the end of all things.
The sound emanated from the depths of the earth. Papa Oliver glanced down at his feet, and when he raised his head again, Jenkins was already on his feet.
He set the extinguished candle on a nearby table, then scooped up his cat, gave it a gentle pat, and settled it on his shoulder. Finally, he turned to Papa Oliver.
He rolled his neck, then let out a long, slow breath.
“Yes,” he repeated. “It's my turn.”
“What happened in the dream?”
Papa Oliver asked urgently.
“I met the Believers of Lies. There were six of them. They all used the power of the dreamscape to disguise themselves as me, and they led that machine on a wild goose chase. They... they constructed an enormous lie. Oh, that group is truly formidable. It was a perfect lie, one I couldn't have conceived of myself. If we had time, I'd love to explain the intricacies of it to you.”
“In any case, thanks to them, I was able to wake up in time. But the Believers of Lies were injured in the dream as well. They said they might be a little late... and now, it's my turn.”
His words served to explain why the voice from deep within the earth had just denounced him as a liar, while also providing a reason for why the Believers of Lies would not be able to arrive before two.
“Jenkins, do you know what you have to do?”
Papa Oliver asked, his voice grave.
“Of course. As fellow Savior Candidates, the Believers of Lies gave everything they had to lure it out of the dream. Now they're grievously injured. As a Savior Candidate myself, I can't be any less capable. Papa Oliver, the instant the Difference Engine was tricked and woke up, it realized the deception. We learned a great deal from that dream. It failed to acquire a complete soul, but it did obtain something akin to one. That's why I have to go—to appease the fury it feels at being deceived.”
He let out a soft chuckle and walked to the window to stand beside Papa Oliver. The people gathered at the door saw that Jenkins was awake, but seeing him deep in conversation, no one dared to intrude.