"Since Mr. Smith didn't ntion it, I suppose there wasn't one. I was rather hoping the Nolan diocese would receive a comndation from the Sage for its outstanding performance against the evil god's angels... Then again, it makes sense. After all, besides you, it was those damned heretics who killed the other three angels, and even the last one was grievously wounded by that arrow."
Captain Bincy remarked with a hint of regret, though a smile remained on his face:
"The gods are always watching over us, and that is enough. This world is a perilous place, and humanity is like a civilization on a lonely island in a vast sea. But it doesn't matter, because we know the gods are our mightiest protectors."
This was one of the reasons civilization could endure and develop to such an extent, even in a world gone mad.
It was finally confird that only the five Orthodox Churches in Nolan had received the divine oracle. Of those, only the Church of Knowledge and Books, the Church of the Unlit Moon, and the Church of Ocean and Exploration had declared the "Dead Man's Whip" their mortal enemy. The other seven churches, which had no presence in Nolan, hadn't even received an oracle related to the matter.
This suggested that in the eyes of the gods, the appearance of angels in the material world wasn't a particularly grave matter, especially since they were eliminated before they could cause any real destruction.
While that sounded rather disheartening, on the bright side, a minor issue was certainly better than the gods descending in person. People still vividly rembered the Six Gods descending upon Nolan last year, when the Evil God's Scion nearly harnessed the power of the city's fog to devour it whole.
The repercussions of the angel fall incident continued to spread across the material world, but for Jenkins, who stood at the very center of it all, the matter already felt like a thing of the past.
Compared to the angels, he was far more concerned with The Stranger. With the clues now firmly in his grasp, all he had to do was wait for midnight.
To avoid attracting unnecessary trouble by performing the rather bizarre ritual within the church, and to prevent the Doomsday Slate from appearing there should he truly obtain The Stranger, Jenkins, well-rested and full of energy, slipped out of the church with his equally spirited cat. As he passed through the dimly lit sermon hall, Jenkins offered a sincere prayer to the great holy emblem.
"May the Sage protect ~"
He believed his actions tonight did not violate church doctrine, so he felt no psychological burden in praying to his god.
Since this was far from his first ti sneaking out of the church, Jenkins navigated the familiar route with ease. He leaped from the rooftops, landing in a nearby alley with the agility of a cat.
He didn't imdiately search for a suitable place to light a bonfire. Instead, he first changed his appearance and then made his way to the old elf's ho. After knocking on the downstairs door and explaining his purpose, the landlady politely led Jenkins inside. Fortunately, the old elf had not yet gone to bed.
It was quite late now. The weather had temporarily cleared, and the days of constant rain had dissipated much of the city's fog. The old elf, wearing a pair of small spectacles, received Jenkins in his study.
He appeared sowhat weary, but he didn't seem overly affected by the death of his old friend. He was clearly surprised to see Jenkins, but he still greeted him warmly.
"I thought you would visit in a few days. After all, the aftermath of the angel fall still needs to be dealt with."
"Those matters don't have much to do with . Although I'm the church's Saint, I've only been an Enchanter for about half a year. The church won't assign too many tasks right now; they believe I'm still in my developntal stage."
"Half a year?"
The elf eyed Jenkins suspiciously but said nothing more.
He prepared a special floral tea for Jenkins. The transparent liquid shimred with a serene luster under the moonlight and carried a unique, soul-soothing fragrance. Jenkins took a sip, feeling the cool, smooth liquid flow down his throat and into his stomach, easing the slight headache he had from sleeping too much lately.
"Moon rose tea. Even among elves, few know how to prepare it."
Seeing the surprised expression on Jenkins's face, the elf couldn't help but say with a touch of pride. Jenkins played along, his expression shifting to one of admiration. He then dipped a finger into the tea and extended it toward his cat.
The cat cautiously padded over, twitched its nose, and after determining the scent wasn't too pungent, hesitantly extended its tongue to lick the tea. It then closed its eyes, letting out a purr of delight.
"About Carl's... situation..."
"You don't need to explain it to . It's aningless. All I need to know is that an old friend of mine has found eternal release."
He still seed to care, but he chose not to show it.
Since the elf was unwilling to discuss Carl, Jenkins moved on to other matters. The old elf had lived long enough to have the life experience necessary to answer Jenkins's questions.
He was quite satisfied with how Jenkins had handled the recent events. However, when he heard the details of Jenkins's conversation with the Saint from the Church of Creation and Machinery, he frowned and considered it for a long while.
"Jenkins, I'm not what you'd call an old stick-in-the-mud, but you must understand the stubbornness and traditions of the elves. To us, recklessly using transcendent power to alter the very essence of life is an unforgivable blasphemy. I imagine you've heard that at the end of every epoch, a cataclysm beyond mortal comprehension occurs. Can you guess what we will face at the end of the 18th Epoch?"
"A cataclysm? I rember Miss Audrey ntioning that the the of the final page depicting the 18th Epoch in the Millstone of Fate was..."
"What? Are you saying your teacher has personally seen the Millstone of Fate?"
the elf asked in astonishnt, unconcerned with what the crucial the might be.
"Yes, she's a diviner from the Church of Destiny and Order. She was once granted the opportunity to view the Millstone of Fate."
"No, Jenkins, do not trust the Millstone of Fate!"
the elf exclaid, cutting Jenkins off.
"The Millstone of Fate engraves destiny; it is the very embodint of fate, fate made material. But anyone who has viewed the Millstone of Fate will inevitably fall into a trap of destiny—there has never been an exception. That is why the Orthodox Churches, despite knowing the book's power, do not use it to predict the future. Only those diviners on the threshold of becoming demigods would place their hopes in viewing that book for further clues. Do not trust the guidance of anyone who has seen the Millstone of Fate. At least, not completely."
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