Chapter 307: Chapter 307
The gang leader’s words had captured the attention of all the youths, but who among them would dare to believe such a thing so readily?
"He isn't a con artist, is he?"
Someone whispered. No one dared to openly challenge their leader. They all remembered what happened last time, when some kid who didn't know the rules questioned the scar on the leader's face, suggesting it was from a noble's guard who'd slipped up while trying to stop him from stealing. The boy was never seen again.
"Hmph. Mr. Hicks from Wallett Street—you know, the one who always has a newspaper and catches a carriage at this corner—he told his friend himself."
The leader couldn't help but sound a little smug as he recounted the tale. He'd been trying to pick up a dropped copper and had squeezed behind a pile of rusty steam pipes, where he just so happened to overhear their conversation. To these youths, the words of a man like Mr. Hicks, who could afford a carriage ride every day, were undeniably true.
"I'm going to give it a try first," he announced.
He said it with a peculiar emphasis, and young Hangdon realized he was trying to imitate the mayor's public speech from the clock tower last week.
"It's only a few silver coins. I'm not worried about it."
He said this with feigned indifference, though it pained him to part with the money. It was a matter of maintaining his dignity before the others. As a hunter’s son, he knew that the leader of the pack could never show weakness or indecision in front of his subordinates.
Young Hangdon watched with gleaming eyes as his own five coppers were dropped into the small pouch. The dreams of youth—beautiful, magnificent, passionate, and untamed—were all contained within.
Meanwhile, Jenkins, the calm recipient of these youthful dreams, was still wrestling with his own troubles.
The process of creating the projection markers had been surprisingly simple. Magic Miss had already drawn the basic ritual array on a sheet of paper for him, and after a quick trip to the black market for some materials, all five markers were complete.
Considering he might need to trade items with Miss Miller in the future, Jenkins had also taken the time to summon the Star Spirit Rakul and ask her how to create a marker that could pinpoint a location in the material world.
The Star Spirit required guidance to transport items over long distances.
Once again, he found himself above the sea of stars. The stellar tide swelled and receded with each breath, its silver and blue radiance filling the space around them. The Star Spirit’s translucent form hovered before Jenkins, and she regarded the new god with a curious expression.
"Since you are a god, you should be aware that a deity’s own power serves as the most effective location beacon."
Jenkins had considered that, but the problem was, he was a pseudo-god who wasn't exactly 'plugged in.' While he still possessed a single drop of divinity, he didn't feel it was necessary to expend it on such a matter.
"A god’s power isn't limited to divinity," Rakul explained. "Most things associated with the deity themself possess their own peculiar power."
At this, Jenkins began to run through the items and information he possessed, searching for something with enough mystique that pointed directly to him.
The Star Spirit Rakul watched him with a patient smile, cradling an equally transparent tome in her arms. The cover bore no title. Thɪs chapter is updated by novèlfire.net
Inspiration struck Jenkins. "Can my name serve as a beacon?"
"Of course," she replied. "A deity's true name possesses a power that is truly formidable."
Jenkins nodded. He turned his right palm upward, and a few drops of ink materialized out of thin air, hovering above it. They quickly split and rearranged themselves, forming a name in an exceptionally ornate script:
"No, that is not your true name."
The Star Spirit slowly shook her head. "That is merely your human name in the material world, just as my name is Rakul. Both 'Jenkins' and 'Rakul' are simply designations—titles that hold a certain mystique, but cannot represent the entirety of our power."
Jenkins considered this and had to agree. He hesitated a moment before asking, "What language does a true name need to be written in? An ancient script, like Loqian?"
"No. The true name of a deity, or any high-level being for that matter, can be a symbol, a word, or even a meaningless doodle. What matters is that it represents the whole of one's existence and is a name they themselves fully acknowledge."
As she spoke, she extended a finger, drawing upon the power of the cosmos. Silken silver threads materialized between them, weaving themselves into a string of letters in an unknown language. The instant the word was complete, a magnificent power erupted from it.
His vision went black. The concepts of time and space ceased to exist. Then, a single point of light representing "everything" appeared before him. Just as Jenkins, in his surprise, began to wonder if this sea of stars shared an origin with Earth, a massive arm suddenly reached out from the unseen void.
With a single touch, a boundless explosion of light and heat erupted. Silver and blue radiance intertwined, shooting out in every direction.
The vision ended there. Perhaps because he was free from the shackles of his physical body, Jenkins's soul, existing as it was in the Astral Plane, felt no lasting discomfort.
He shook his head, only to see the light of the entire star sea pulsing erratically. Before it could spiral completely out of control, however, Rakul reined it in.
Even so, the manifestation of the true name caused the light surrounding her to surge. If Jenkins had previously seen her as little more than a peculiar-looking human, he could now sense the true grandeur of a being forged by the longest stretches of history.
"I think I just saw... some kind of vision," he said.
He trailed off, finding it hard to believe he had just witnessed the birth of the Astral Plane itself.
"Mr. Williams, that wasn't real," she explained. "It was an illusion, triggered by a combination of my power and your own knowledge. The creation of the Astral Plane is connected to the Great Sovereign, but the true reason for its birth is one of this world's deepest secrets. It would never reveal itself so easily."
The revelation of her true name had unleashed the power the Star Spirit normally kept suppressed, yet her smile remained as captivating as ever.
"I understand it was an illusion," Jenkins said, "because no Spirit was generated."
He nodded. The giant hand was Rakul’s interpretation of the Astral Plane's birth, while the single point representing "everything" was his own. That made perfect sense.
He glanced at the ornate script still hovering above his right palm, then clenched his fist. The ink dissolved into a scattering of black motes. When he opened his hand again, two blocky, intricate characters rose from his palm.
He thought that would be the end of it, but a second after the characters formed, a purple radiance shot out from behind him. Lines of violet light collided with the ambient silver and blue power of the cosmos, their trajectories shifting with each impact.
A ceaseless crackling filled the air. Jenkins turned to watch the brilliant light darting through the star sea like fireworks.
When all fell quiet again, the blocky characters above Jenkins's right hand absorbed all the purple light, then settled, swaying gently in his palm.