Chapter 47: Chapter 47

"It's alright. Consider it a gift."

Jenkins was surprised to find his voice remained steady.

"Oh, that won't do. I can't take extra money from a customer... But I don't have any change on me. How about I give you some flowers of equivalent value instead?"

As she spoke, oblivious to the two men staring at her, she plunged her entire right arm into her basket. It seemed to be a bottomless pit, yet she pulled nothing out.

The young flower seller clutched the handle of her basket, looking as if she might cry. "I've sold so many flowers tonight... I can't seem to find one that's right for you."

Jenkins mentally translated her words: "I've brought misfortune to too many people tonight, so now I can't bring any more to you."

Throughout their exchange, the injured Velte remained silent and still. He squinted at the little girl, his mind reeling. Whether it was the shock of seeing the figure from the painting in the flesh or his desperate urge to flee, he unfortunately settled on the wrong conclusion.

"Oh, there's another gentleman here!"

The flower seller's downcast expression brightened into a smile. "Wonderful! In that case, I'll just have to make a flower to compensate you!"

She announced cheerfully, tilting her basket and lifting the grimy cloth that covered its contents.

Jenkins heard the eerie whispers again, as if they were cutting through a chaotic fog. Myriad tentacles seemed to extend from the void, wrapping around him, the slimy, cloying sensation sickeningly real.

But it was only a hallucination. In reality, several emerald-green, snake-like vines slithered out from the pitch-black depths of her basket.

Velte finally grasped the terrifying strangeness of the situation. He spun around and fled, conjuring layers of ice walls behind him, their surfaces shimmering with a dazzling spiritual light.

But it was no use. The vines shot out from the basket like striking vipers. Shards of exploding ice peppered Jenkins's face as the tendrils instantly pierced the curtain of rain and the ice walls, burrowing into Velte's body.

He let out a bloodcurdling scream. At that very moment, a familiar figure finally appeared down the street. Reinforcements had arrived.

"What in the world is happening?"

Astonished, Jenkins watched as fifteen points of light within Velte's body shattered, transforming into green spirit that flowed through the vines and into the girl's basket. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by novel⚑fire.net

Velte's screams grew more wretched. He writhed in the filthy water, his body convulsing in agony. He stretched his left arm out toward Jenkins, but a soul-wrenching spasm forced him to curl into a ball.

Finally, he lay motionless on the ground, his body seemingly two inches shorter. His pale skin was stretched taut over his bones, making him look like a desiccated corpse long buried in the earth.

"Sir, your flower! Now the money you gave me is sufficient!"

The girl's voice, suddenly right beside him, made Jenkins jump so hard he nearly stumbled. He had been completely transfixed by Velte's gruesome fate.

He turned to see the young flower seller standing beside him, holding an ice-blue flower.

Its petals were translucent and ethereal, emitting faint flecks of blue light. Jenkins swallowed hard, fighting an inexplicable urge to devour the blossom whole.

He reached out with a trembling hand and took the flower. The girl's small, damp hand felt warm to the touch, just like any normal child's.

He said it again, this time in gratitude for her having saved his life.

Captain Bincy and a few dozen hurried-looking strangers had stopped a short distance away. They had witnessed the vines drain Velte dry and understood enough of what was happening to not dare come any closer.

The massive steam airship hovering over Nolan City had been heading in their direction, but after receiving some new command, it slowly turned and flew back toward the burning church.

"And thank you as well, sir."

The little girl hugged her basket, looking delighted.

She reached up to brush a lock of rain-plastered hair from her forehead. "I've been in this city for a very long time. I must go and sell my flowers elsewhere now. Goodbye, sir."

On a strange impulse, perhaps from watching too many television dramas in his past life, Jenkins asked a question he would regret for a long, long time.

"Will we meet again?"

"You want to buy more flowers? That's wonderful! But I don't know if we will meet again. May the Lord of Blossoms grant us another meeting."

With those words, she gave Jenkins a small bow and began to back away, fading into the rain like a phantom.

Gazing down at the ice-blue flower in his hand, Jenkins heaved a long sigh.

"Did you think it was over?"

A raspy, aged voice suddenly cut through the air, causing both Jenkins and the approaching Captain Bincy and his men to freeze. They turned to see the desiccated corpse of Velte holding up a wooden carving with a hand like a withered branch.

The figure depicted by the carving was utterly incomprehensible.

"Goddess," Jenkins marveled, "how can such an exquisitely perfect sculpture exist in this world?"

Jenkins couldn't help but gasp in awe. He felt a powerful urge to rise and prostrate himself before it, but a simultaneous tremor from the candle and the black robe within his spirit jolted him back to his senses.

The carving depicted a man with his hands held high, supporting a spherical object. The man wore a simple robe, yet he seemed to radiate an immense light. The figure's face was a blur; Jenkins couldn't tell if the rain was obscuring his vision or if the carving itself was the cause.

"Oh, God! I offer you my spirit, my flesh, my very being! I implore you, look upon this filthy world!"

The desiccated corpse shrieked, and the statue in its hand immediately erupted in a blinding, brilliant light.

Beams of golden light shot out from the statue, illuminating and then obliterating everything they touched.

"He's awakened the divinity of an evil god!"

Captain Bincy shouted from the distance. The desiccated corpse now lay motionless in the grimy water, but the statue remained, hovering in the air.

It blazed like a miniature sun, and a spectral figure began to slowly coalesce around it.

Jenkins scrambled to his feet and instinctively lashed out at the statue with his left hand. His blow connected, but the statue remained unaffected. Instead, his left arm went limp, all strength draining from it as it fell uselessly to his side.

The statue's light grew even brighter. A flash of inspiration hit Jenkins. With his right hand, which had recovered slightly, he grabbed the flower and struck at the statue once more.

He activated the ability as he struck. A tremendous amount of spirit fused with the cold energy flowing from his right hand, and even the flower seemed to melt into his palm. Before his eyes, the white point of light representing the ability began to fade, replaced by a brand-new point of brilliant red!