Chapter 409: Chapter 409

Fortunately, Jenkins was the sort of person who detested major changes to his life. At least, not until Nolan City was utterly destroyed would he even consider the thought of moving elsewhere.

The women buying the potions remained silent, their faces obscured by hoods and other garments. They simply produced rolled-up banknotes, exchanging them for glass vials from Jenkins. But from the way they carried themselves and the faint scent of expensive perfume clinging to them, he could tell they were all wealthy young noblewomen and ladies of high society.

Then again, it wasn't as if anyone without money could afford these potions in the first place.

He sold twenty-three vials in this single transaction, a night's haul worth roughly a small house in downtown Nolan. After handing over the last potion, he waited for the women to depart before strolling out onto the main street.

"What in the world am I doing?"

He couldn't help but sigh. Just a few days ago, he'd been fighting cultists to protect the peace of the city. Now, in the blink of an eye, he had become a merchant peddling illegal goods in the dead of night.

"Ah, well," he mused. "As long as I'm getting paid."

If there was one thing that still troubled Jenkins after the conclusion of last week's major incident, it was the man who had appeared at the very end and tried to shoot him.

The Church had investigated the corpse's identity while Jenkins was unconscious, even inviting Audrey to perform a divination on the body. But to their great surprise, they found not a single clue.

At the very least, the Church was certain he wasn't a New God Cultist, nor was he a member of any illegal organization currently active in the area. The Keeper of Secrets had apparently found some strange traces on the corpse, but the specifics remained unknown.

He was supposed to have his combat lesson with Miss Bevanna on Wednesday, but in order to make it to Mr. Hood's gathering, Jenkins had to make the excuse that he was too tired. As a result, the lesson was rescheduled for Thursday.

Their training took place in a hall beneath the church, a place that was unnervingly vast. Since Miss Bevanna was using it, no one else dared to venture down.

The first lesson began with a physical assessment, which posed no challenge for Jenkins. In fact, though he was still unsure of the exact effects of his [Undying Man] ability, he had felt his body growing distinctly stronger ever since he'd woken up.

To properly plan his future training regimen, the physical assessment lasted the entire night. It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that Miss Bevanna finally declared the first lesson over.

At the end of the session, she produced two soft mats and taught Jenkins a set of bizarre, dance-like movements.

The routine didn't require any positions that defied human anatomy, yet with each repetition, he could feel a distinct wave of fatigue wash over his entire body.

Miss Bevanna completed the entire routine with fluid grace. Jenkins, however, was left gasping for breath by the end, looking as if he'd just wrestled Chocolate into a bath.

"May I ask... what was that?"

He gasped, lying flat on the mat with no desire to get up.

"Back before the 13th Epoch, at least, all sorts of powerful, exotic creatures were still active in the material world. Enchanters relied on their abilities, but ordinary people had their own methods. Some ancient families passed down certain fighting styles which, in truth, relied on extraordinary potions and prolonged training to push the body to its physical limits."

"I've never heard anything about this. Papa Oliver never mentioned it."

"Of course you haven't."

Miss Bevanna offered Jenkins her hand and pulled him to his feet.

"No matter how powerful an ordinary person becomes, they are still just ordinary. Coupled with certain events best left unspoken, most of these ancient techniques have been lost to time. The routine I taught you is also incomplete. It was passed down through my mother's family, and I imagine I'm the only person left who has mastered it."

A trace of melancholy touched her voice as she spoke.

After waking his cat, who was dozing nearby, Jenkins and Bevanna walked side-by-side up the stone stairs. Just as they reached the cloister, they heard a commotion up ahead.

"It's all a dream... You have to wake up... Hahahaha!"

The voice grew louder, and as they rounded the corner, they saw Captain Bincy and several of his men pinning a middle-aged man to the floor. The man was writhing frantically.

The man was slightly portly with a noticeable paunch, dressed in a brown waistcoat with silver buttons. He looked a bit like a bookseller Jenkins knew. To Jenkins's eye, this was a prosperous, successful gentleman, likely from the middle or even upper class.

"What's going on here?"

Miss Bevanna asked, her brow furrowed. This was a church, where loud disturbances were strictly forbidden. With a simple downward press of her right hand, the commotion was instantly silenced.

Captain Bincy motioned for his men to keep the man restrained, then stood at attention and bowed his head in apology.

"It's our squad's turn for night patrol. We found him moments ago at the corner of Hamster Alley and Second Steam Avenue. I believe it's a case of A-12-02-4099, so I brought him here."

"Take him to the Keeper of Secrets. And make sure he doesn't speak again." Read full story at noᴠelfire.net

He waved to his men, and they escorted the middle-aged man away.

Jenkins watched them go, his expression one of surprise. He had indeed seen a black spiritual aura emanating from the man.

"A-12-02-4099, Ancient God's Dream."

Before Jenkins could even ask, Miss Bevanna began to explain. They paused their walk, leaning against the railing of the courtyard cloister and gazing up at the twin moons in the sky.

"It's a Cursed Item that can be transmitted through the information itself, so it's perfectly normal that you don't know about it. It's an exceptionally bizarre phenomenon. In fact, even among all the Cursed Items cataloged by the Orthodox Churches, it's one of the strangest."

"Could you tell me more?"

Jenkins asked tentatively. Chocolate, who had been dozing, cracked open his left eye to glance in the direction the men had disappeared, then closed it again, content.

"Oh, of course. You should be aware of these things, especially since you have the Sage's blessing. It's a phenomenon that strikes without any warning, but it only affects humans. The victims claim to have a sudden realization that our world isn't real—that it's nothing more than the dream of a great, ancient god. They believe that the moment this god awakens, the world will collapse, and the only way to escape that destruction is to pledge their faith to it."

She shook her head with a small smile and added,

"They are utterly convinced of this and try to spread the idea to others. Anyone who hears them speak of it runs a small, but not insignificant, risk of believing it and becoming infected with the [Ancient God's Dream] as well."

Jenkins nodded, pursing his lips.

"So what's the name of this dreaming god they keep talking about?"