Chapter 396: Chapter 396

The night air was heavy with a damp chill, and Mr. Augustus, whose health had always been frail, soon found it unbearable.

He picked up the thread of their conversation, adding, "But I can assure you, my family has no connection to the great Church of Death and End. Those are just legends, I imagine. Perhaps in some bygone epoch, a Saint emerged from our line, and over the long course of time, these absurd tales took shape."

Jenkins nodded, watching as a servant helped the viscount into his carriage before it vanished into the night.

"The God of Death isn't just one of the Twelve Orthodox Gods."

A man in a black trench coat stood at the church entrance, his expression grim. As the night wind gusted, it flipped the collar of his coat.

Jenkins figured he was probably the most idle person in the church right now. He was eager to join one of the combat squads and venture out on their missions, but his suggestion was met with unanimous opposition.

Because of his proposal, he'd even been placed under Miss Bevanna's watchful eye. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on novel✦fire.net

"Jenkins, please believe this is all for your own good."

Although the "miracle drug" prevented any symptoms beyond their comatose state, this was hardly a long-term solution.

Waking on Wednesday morning, Jenkins stared blankly at the unfamiliar ceiling for a long moment. He reached out and, sure enough, his hands found his cat.

When he sat up, he saw two young nuns on the other side of the room. He hadn't heard them come in. One held a breakfast tray, while the other carried a basin of hot water, a towel draped over her arm.

"I can manage myself."

His voice was tight with embarrassment, and the young nuns laughed.

After breakfast, he changed into a simple gray priest's robe and set about his day. If one was looking for work, there was never a shortage of it within the church walls.

He was temporarily assigned to transport duty. Chocolate, however, refused to leave the dining hall, so Jenkins had to carry a basin of gruel toward the side chapel alone.

He tilted his head, studying the oil paintings on the walls as he walked. The church's decor was somber, and the art was overwhelmingly religious in nature.

Of course, not watching where you're going is a dangerous habit. He had just reached a corner when he heard a startled cry and felt himself collide with someone.

"I'm so sorry, sir! I'm sorry!"

The girl seemed even more flustered than Jenkins. The stack of towels she'd been carrying tumbled to the floor. She didn't dare look up at his face, repeating her apologies over and over.

The young flower seller looked much healthier than the last time he'd seen her. Her clothes were clearly the wrong size, but they were free of patches and looked warm.

A holy emblem was embroidered crookedly on her right sleeve, likely her own handiwork.

"Oh, it's you. It's all right."

He forced a kind expression onto his face. Hearing his voice, the girl looked up. Her eyes were clouded with confusion for a moment before clearing into joyful surprise.

"Oh, sir, it's you! Good morning!"

He nodded with a smile, feeling inwardly that the expression didn't suit him at all.

"To see you here, it's such an honor. Sir, thank you... oh, sir..."

Her young voice, coupled with her flustered, rambling words, was admittedly a little amusing.

The girl had a vivid memory of the man in the priest's robe standing before her. It wasn't just because of the purse of money his cat had delivered, but because ever since that day, her life had taken a miraculous turn for the better.

She had unexpectedly been taken in by the Church of the Sage, and once there, had received surprisingly good treatment. She was even recommended for the choir and given permission to continue living in the church after the winter passed...

Her life in the slums had taught her much, and from the whispers she overheard in the church, the girl knew that her new life was all thanks to the help of a kind gentleman.

"You should get back to your work. It's been incredibly busy these last few days."

The girl wanted to say more, but Jenkins interrupted her.

"Yes, sir. May the Sage bless you."

She clumsily made the sign of a holy emblem on her chest.

"And may the Sage bless you, too."

His hands full, Jenkins couldn't return the gesture, so he could only offer another smile.

Whatever the girl was feeling, Jenkins took his ability to converse with her without any mental block as a sign that his "flower-girl hypersensitivity" was well on its way to being cured.

At the thought, his step became noticeably lighter.

The girl knelt on the floor, gathering the scattered white towels, and turned her head to watch the man's figure disappear at the end of the hallway.

"Sir... may God bless you and protect you. May your soul endure forever. May you..."

Having been born in the slums, the girl was, of course, illiterate; these were all phrases she had picked up from listening to the priests and clergymen during her time in the church.

Muttering the words under her breath, she started to move forward, only to see a small, black-and-white kitten sitting in the middle of the corridor, watching her with amber eyes.

A blush crept up her cheeks; the shy girl was embarrassed by her own words. But then she thought, how could a cat possibly understand what people say?

At noon, Miss Bevanna called Jenkins over. This time, there was something important to discuss.

"Get ready. We're going out."

"Oh, all right... Where are we going?"

"The baptism is an ancient tradition. All Scribes of the Church of the Sage undergo a special rite within their first six months. Yours was originally scheduled to be held here at the church, but the location was changed last week."

She didn't give him a chance to argue, simply pulling him outside where a carriage was already waiting.

"You may have heard from Papa Oliver about what happened at the Ponton winery. The site has become an evergreen forest, overflowing with the spirit of life. A place like that is ideal for a baptism, and we've found the perfect spot within it. Mr. Williams, you need to understand that this rite is more than symbolic—it's a physical transformation. Performing it there is the best possible arrangement for you. And don't worry, we'll have more than enough guards for the journey."

The matter was clearly not up for discussion. Once she'd informed Jenkins, Miss Bevanna bundled him into a carriage waiting in the courtyard. The Life Pearl had been removed from its water; it was safer to carry the Bestowal on his person.

He had assumed Miss Bevanna would be his only guard, but as soon as their carriage reached the main road, four others moved to surround them. A glance with his Eye of Reality told Jenkins they were all filled with Benefactors, the weakest of whom was at least level four.