The shaking ceased, and the divine presence was gone. Jenkins climbed to his feet, pressing his left hand to his forehead as he raised his right to catch a warm sphere of light descending from above.
His divine domain, [Protector of Flower Girls], was exceedingly narrow, but it was a power of the orderly alignnt. The strength of his domain, combined with the god's divinity, had completely lted and fused the God's Child Umbilical Cord.
The orb of light now clutched in Jenkins's hand was the purest crystallization of the Scion's power. While it couldn't compare to true divinity, it was a force that any mortal could easily wield.
The divinity within him was completely depleted, and the resulting emptiness was maddening. He felt the warmth of the golden orb in his hand, then noticed his cat wasn't trying to sneak a bite as it usually would. Instead, it perched on his shoulder, its eyes shining brightly as it stared at the golden light.
It looked utterly serene, its mouth slightly upturned, its large eyes reflecting the orb's golden glow. Chocolate was exceptionally cute in that mont, and Jenkins knew that as long as his cat wasn't being gluttonous, it was the most adorable creature in the world.
He had understood what he needed to do while in his deified state, so even after falling back to mortality, he knew where to go next.
Holding the orb of light, he left his ho once more. He glanced at the battles raging on three fronts across the city and the furious storm, then swiftly cut through the rain-lashed streets toward the old elf's residence near the church.
The streets were still devoid of pedestrians. When knocking at the entrance to the old elf's rented apartnt building yielded no response, Jenkins figured the angels' appearance must have affected the minds of mortals. Drenched and impatient, he simply burned through the lock and pushed the door open.
He made his way to the old elf Siannod's apartnt door and rapped his knuckles hard against the wood. He imdiately heard a frantic commotion from within. A mont later, the old elf pulled the door open and stared, dumbfounded, at Jenkins, who was wreathed in flas at his doorstep:
"You actually ca to et at our appointed ti, in a situation like this?"
"Oh, right. We did agree to et this afternoon... But that's not why I'm here. May I co in and talk?"
"Of course, co in quickly. Do you need so hot tea? I recently bought so excellent leaves."
The old elf's friend, Mr. Halama Rynsarm, was also there. Siannod had invited him to et with Jenkins that afternoon, but he'd been trapped in the apartnt because of the angels.
Jenkins paid him no mind, sitting down and taking a sip of hot tea to warm himself. The rain outside was tainted with the corrupting power of the slaughtering angels, and even he could feel the ill effects after walking through it for so long.
"Things are an absolute ss out there, Jenkins, you must have seen it. Nolan is in total chaos. Who would have thought those cultists could summon angels so quickly? But the Orthodox Churches were certainly well-prepared, able to dispatch two angels to intercept them imdiately. I could just about recognize the first one as a follower of the [Earth Mother], but which god's angel was the second one?"
The old elf rambled on, but then he noticed Jenkins turn his head to look directly at the other old man. Halama Rynsarm remained in the sa position, and if not for the occasional tremor that ran through his body, one might have mistaken him for dead.
"What's wrong with him?"
Jenkins asked, his voice low.
"Who knows? He's been like this ever since the angels appeared at noon. I thought he was just scared stiff, but Rynsarm isn't such a timid fellow."
The old elf mused, stroking his chin. He sat down as well and patted the old man's shoulder:
"Hey, the man you were supposed to et is here. What's gotten into you? It's just so angels outside. Terrifying, yes, but they're not here specifically for you."
But the old man still didn't react, just stared blankly at the floor. The elf shrugged at Jenkins, as if to say, *this is how it is*.
The old elf seed remarkably optimistic. He didn't launch into a grave discussion about the battle outside, nor did he curse the cultists for their insane actions.
Jenkins knew the elf must have an ace up his sleeve, but the priority right now was dealing with Rynsarm.
He placed his cat on his lap, cleared his throat, and spoke:
"Rynsarm Jean Carmyle, do you rember that na?"
The mont the words left his mouth, the silent old man beside him looked over as if he had seen a god. His trembling intensified, and what little color he had drained from his face, leaving it even paler than before.
"Carmyle?"
The old elf repeated the na suspiciously. He had heard Jenkins's story about the rings and knew what it ant for Jenkins to utter the na "Carmyle" now.
"Are you saying my friend Halama Rynsarm is actually..."
"Yes. He is a mber of the divinely punished Carmyle family. And he is the true owner of those ten rings."
Jenkins nodded. He had seen all of this monts ago. To be honest, if he hadn't run out of divinity, he wouldn't be bothering with such tedious matters. He would have just flown up and obliterated those four winged nuisances.
"Long ago, out of a lust for extraordinary power, the Carmyle family conspired with a group of audacious non-humans to murder a pair of lovebirds. They intended to use a ritual to introduce supernatural power into their family's bloodline. But they never imagined that the lovebirds had been blessed by a god who presided over love—they were sacred creatures beloved by a deity. As a result, the entire Carmyle family was cursed and died out. The man and woman who proposed the plan were afflicted with an even more terrible curse, one that punishes them to this very day."
Jenkins paused, watching as the old man, Rynsarm, stared at him in terror, unable to control his own limbs out of fear and panic.
"And Rynsarm Carmyle, as the newborn heir of the family, was chosen by his greedy relatives to be the recipient of the ritual. It was a fitting arrangent, really. Aside from the murdered lovebirds, the ritual itself was harmless to the person undergoing it. If successful, Rynsarm Carmyle would have automatically possessed a bloodline power that could be passed down through generations. But they had no idea what a cruel deed they had truly committed. Even though a mistake in the ritual caused Rynsarm Carmyle to die prematurely, the god did not forget that mber of the Carmyle family.
I am sorry, Mr. Rynsarm, but it was because you were cursed by a god that you were granted this long life, wasn't it?"
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