Chapter 260: Chapter 260

Jenkins's eyes sharpened. "Cursed Items and Bestowals... which one is truly more powerful?"

He spread his hands before him. In his left, a candle flickered with a quiet flame; in his right, an inextinguishable red fire danced.

The ugly sprite's laughter suddenly deepened. The temperature plummeted. The branches overhead twisted and grew at a visible rate, blotting out the sun, their gnarled forms like grasping fingers reaching down for Jenkins. Vines slithering up the tree trunks began to move like slow, deliberate tentacles, writhing across the ground toward him. A dreadful footfall echoed from the thicket, revealing dark shadows and ghastly skeletons. Even the mottled trunks and ancient bark seemed to warp into terrifying, grimacing faces, their shrill laughter carried on the wind.

In that moment, the forest's malice was laid bare.

Jenkins stared grimly at his hands. The red flame in his right hand stretched into a delicate thread, leaping across to his left. The two Bestowals seemed to be connected by a bridge of fire, the candle and the flame glowing in unison as Spirit surged rapidly into his hands.

"It's really working!"

If he weren't in such peril, Jenkins would have roared with laughter.

He raised his hands high, channeling all the Spirit in his body into the two Bestowals.

The wind rose. As Jenkins moved, a sudden gale blasted in from all directions, yet the spot where he stood remained untouched, as calm as the eye of a storm.

Miss Bevanna sat in a first-class carriage of the steam train, resting with her eyes closed. The train was due to depart in ten minutes. After everything that had happened in New Truman City, she was finally heading back.

Although the Evil God Scion hadn't been completely eliminated, New Truman City had at least returned to its former tranquility. The Scion, who had escaped at the last moment, was unlikely to reappear for at least six months.

Sensing something, Miss Bevanna held down the lace-brimmed sun hat on her head and leaned out the window into the autumn wind. Her eyes glowed faintly as she saw something like a vast, dark cloud materializing in the distant sky. She could even see lightning brewing within it. Her left eye was a magic eye, allowing her to see more than others, and she had a vague sense that she was looking in the direction of Nolan City.

Miss Bevanna thought with a frown, then opened the book she always carried. It had sustained some damage in the previous battle, but it should still be usable.

The large, ancient tome was placed on the desk in her private carriage. Its pages began to flip on their own before her, rustling loudly.

It finally stopped. Miss Bevanna leaned forward slightly and read the words on the page aloud:

"Amidst the lightning, a new hope is born into the world. This is the sign of a 'Bestowal's' birth. None know the secrets of Bestowals, for this is a domain only the gods may touch. The Sage teaches: The ignorant are sinful, the greedy are sinful, the saintly are sinless."

"A new Bestowal... is being born?"

She stared at the text in disbelief. As the most powerful Enchanter of the Orthodox Church in her diocese, she knew secrets that could not be shared. Among them was the fact that while Series A Cursed Items and Series B Extraordinary Items could manifest in the real world outside of a Mysterious Realm, Series C Bestowals were different. The former two had no restrictions, but the latter absolutely required a connection to a deity to be born.

It was a rule without exception.

"Another deity has appeared in Nolan?"

She asked herself incredulously, finding the word "another" almost laughable.

"May the Sage protect us."

Lightly tracing the holy symbol on her chest, she could only hope that this descending deity would have mercy on the world.

"May the Sage protect us!"

Papa Oliver, who was handling matters in the church, murmured the prayer. He and Spike, the Keeper of Secrets on duty today, left the Gate of All Things and walked back to the surface. A crowd had already gathered in the church courtyard, all of them staring up at the dark cloud on the distant horizon.

Dark clouds in the sky were nothing unusual, but one that appeared out of thin air, crackling with lightning, was a rare sight indeed.

"Things are never quiet, are they."

The old Keeper of Secrets said in a raspy voice. He glanced at the cloud, then turned and headed back into the Gate of All Things. A Mr. Gaskell Peters, dressed in high boots and a black coat, hurried past with several high-level Enchanters. With Miss Bevanna away, he was in command of handling such incidents. Latest content publıshed on novel✦fire.net

But Papa Oliver remained, leaning against a wall and ignoring the murmuring crowd. He stood before a thick steam pipe that radiated a gentle warmth, a nostalgic look in his eyes:

"May the Sage protect us. The last time I saw a sight ... it must have been twenty years ago..."

"May the Sage protect us!"

Jenkins thought the same, looking up at the candle he held high. The inextinguishable flame had now fully entered the candle's wick, but he could feel that the two were merely coexisting, not yet truly "fused."

Jenkins couldn't tell what he was drawing upon anymore. His Spirit as a level-two Enchanter had been depleted long ago, yet the candle continued to suck some other presence from within his body.

The gale howled and raged, forcing even the malevolent forest to temporarily shrink back. The Treasure Elf let out a piercing shriek, and in that instant, Jenkins's position shifted again. He plunged into the spring water.

Shadows gathered on the forest floor, coalescing into a colossal phantom that loomed before Jenkins. He held the undying candle high, motionless, as crazed voices screamed from all around him.

Just as the phantom formed a gaping, pitch-black maw and lunged for Jenkins, a bolt of lightning descended from the sky. It shattered the shadow and struck squarely between Jenkins's raised hands.

The shadow receded. Jenkins, charred black from head to toe, collapsed into the pool of water. His hands remained raised, and the purifying flame spread from the wick, incinerating the surface of the water as it advanced on the dark forest.

A crackling sound filled the air as unseen things in the space clashed with the scorching flame. A faint, foul stench rose from the earth and gradually dissipated. Black mist was extinguished by the sea of fire, and a faint green aura could be seen, like a tide, ebbing and flowing with the roaring wind to meet the flames.

In the last second before he lost consciousness, Jenkins saw the gaping maw, engulfed in flames, struggling in its death throes. With its final moment before dissipating, it lunged one last time toward him in the water.

A faint smile touched his lips as he watched the cat drop a gleaming piece of metal from the tree, shattering the malevolent shadow.