Chapter 2175: Chapter 2175
Judging by Jenkins's expression, the man in the hunting attire knew his explanation wasn't cutting it. He spoke again:
"I have no desire to gamble against a lucky soul like you, one so clearly favored by fate. I refuse to let my future hinge on whether or not you ascend to godhood. So, let's make a deal. What will it take for you to overlook my infraction? I can't just do anything, you know. As you said yourself, these are special times—the end of an Epoch. What I did, while not exactly right, wasn't egregiously wrong either."
He spoke evasively, but his intent was clear: he wanted to offer compensation to make Jenkins drop the matter. The last part of his statement was a veiled warning, a subtle hint that Jenkins shouldn't ask for the moon.
"First, I need to be sure. How much control does the Difference Engine have over you? Can I even trust you?"
Jenkins demanded, his grip tightening on the demonic sword, giving him a menacing look. Of course, the cat on his shoulder looked even more intimidating. Unsure of what Jenkins was thinking, Chocolate decided it was best to act docile to earn his "forgiveness."
She believed Jenkins was just giving her the silent treatment.
The mechanical, human-faced serpent Jenkins had encountered on the first floor had been willing to sacrifice itself just to halt his progress. With that in mind, he couldn't be certain that whatever "compensation" he received wouldn't be a trap.
"Truthfully, it doesn't control me much at all. But the benefits it offered were substantial. It helped me repair the forge and even gave me some of its fire. This forge was in ruins before, nothing like what you see now. It was a wreck before that machine invaded. As for me..."
He rapped a knuckle against the metallic part of his body:
Seeing Jenkins's disbelief, the man in hunting attire thrust his hand directly into the river of fire that flowed ceaselessly from the sole remaining doorframe. Instantly, the flames engulfed him, setting his entire body alight.
A moment later, the torrent of fire receded, continuing its flow toward the forge behind the gate. The man in the hunting attire stood there completely unscathed, his clothes untouched. The only difference was that his body was now entirely stone—the metallic parts had vanished.
"You see? As long as the fire burns, I can never be controlled by another power. I am the keeper of the flame here. It is my duty, my very mission. Until this fire is extinguished, no one can control me."
It was the truth, and Jenkins believed him. Still, the man would have to pay a price for his forgiveness. His actions had been deplorable—deceiving the Difference Engine, harassing Jenkins. From the looks of it, he was the only one coming out ahead.
But Jenkins was still puzzled:
"So, this place... it isn't just a simple Mysterious Realm formed from the spatial fragments of a shattered world, is it?"
"Of course not. The origins of Mysterious Realms are complex and varied. You must understand, the spatial fragments drifting through the void don't all come from shattered worlds. Some are prisons for sealed evils, others are bizarre dimensions born from the whims of probability, and some are even functional spaces created by great beings— one."
The man gestured toward the forge behind him:
"You can think of this realm as a kind of failsafe. If the material world were to be destroyed by some unforeseen cataclysm—I mean completely annihilated—the flame here would sustain it. The memories and experiences of the powerful, those who were incinerated and reforged, would return to the material world. Of course, this isn't the only failsafe. The great beings created many such bizarre realms on a whim."
"Will the end truly come?"
"I don't know. I can't see it coming, at least not yet, but one must always have a contingency plan. It's like insurance for a house—no matter how low the chance of collapse, you still get a policy... Does 'insurance' still exist as a concept in your time? In any case, the most important function of this place, in my view, isn't to prepare for some ultimate doomsday. It's to provide spellcasters in the material world a means to summon heroic souls. There are still methods circulating in your world to call upon the spirits of past heroes, aren't there? A small fraction of those methods connect directly here."
Jenkins had heard of such rituals. While not popular in the current age, the "School of Spirit Calling" had once been a major branch of the mystical arts.
"And you've been guarding this place the entire time?"
"Yes, yes. It's a dreadfully boring job, but since I can travel to past eras and seek out the powerful who have died, it's not all bad. In fact, there's something else I can tell you. A Mysterious Realm , one that multiple people can enter repeatedly across different ages, only appears at these special junctures—at the end of an Epoch. In normal times, Mysterious Realms are a one-time affair."
"That's news to me." Read full story at NoveI★Fire.net
Jenkins was mildly surprised, though not entirely shocked. The recent Mysterious Realms—the ancient town and the shadow castle—had clearly been entered by more than one person. He'd already considered the possibility.
"Alright, alright. I've explained the basics of this place. Now, what do you want as compensation?"
The conversation finally circled back to the beginning. Jenkins now understood that the man had "framed" him simply to repair the forge, essentially using the Difference Engine as a patsy. But even though the man had, in a way, helped him master his newfound power, Jenkins wasn't about to forgo his compensation. He had, after all, been doing the man's dirty work for him. It was only right that he get paid.
He summoned the shattered White Bone Holy Sword.
"Sorry, can't do it... What's with that look? I'm not lying."
The man immediately held up his hands:
"You should know this yourself. This sword is part undead, part wood. Fire is the natural enemy of both. I can't repair it without destroying its original properties. You have to understand, I'm no blacksmith. I'm just the keeper of this place."
"But you said before that the other two swords could be used to repair it..."
Jenkins asked, his voice laced with suspicion. The man replied with a sigh of resignation:
"That would have essentially annihilated the sword's original power, doing little more than fixing its shape. It might have even damaged the other two intact swords in the process. I wasn't trying to trick you—it was that steam-breathing monstrosity that told me to do it."
"So you really can't repair it?"
Jenkins confirmed, a note of regret in his voice.
"That's right. But why repair it? The blade is broken, but the power remains. After you leave this nine-story tower, find a patch of fertile soil and plant the two pieces together. It should mend itself in two or three years. But don't use any nature spirits to speed up the process. It must heal on its own, completely naturally. If anything goes wrong otherwise, I take no responsibility."