"So if I don't work with you, I can't save any of this?"
Jenkins's tone was ant to be mocking, but despite his words, he sheathed his sword, making it clear he had no intention of fighting.
"I have a very powerful friend who's a diviner. Perhaps she can help ."
"But what mortal would dare divine a world such as this?"
The mouth in its palm sneered, and Jenkins had no retort.
"So what do you need from , and what will you do for in return?"
Jenkins considered it for a mont. He decided to give it a try—he couldn't think of a better idea.
"It's just as I said. You help get to the material world, and I will teach you how to push this one away. As for the details, I will only reveal them after you agree."
"Fine, I agree."
Jenkins's reply was casual.
"Then let us sign a contract. Any party who violates its terms will suffer the consequences."
With a flick of his lowered left hand, the old man summoned a sheet of ancient parchnt that drifted toward Jenkins. The rights and obligations of both parties were inscribed upon it in an archaic script. Jenkins didn't recognize the letters, yet he understood their aning at a single glance.
He eyed the parchnt with suspicion, hesitating to accept it. The old man grew impatient and urged him on:
"Ever since demons arrived in the material world en masse, every person who signs a contract wishes they could tear the paper to shreds searching for hidden clauses. I assure you, human, there are no tricks on this parchnt."
It was the truth. After a mont's hesitation, Jenkins signed his na: Jenkins R. Williams. The other party signed as well, and though Jenkins couldn't recognize the strange letters, he committed them to mory.
Now it was ti to gather information. The old man admitted that destroying this apocalyptic world was impossible—mortals lacked the power to annihilate a dinsion. All they could do was push it away. To do so, Jenkins would need to perform five different rituals, each at a specific location on a specific date, in both the Nolan of the material world and this decaying version of the city.
Once all the rituals took effect, the convergence of this place and Nolan would be suspended for at least two hundred years. After that, the sa thod could be used to pause the process once more.
To help the old man return to the material world, Jenkins would have to open a spatial tunnel at the clock tower in the real Nolan. But even with the two dinsions so tightly linked, opening such a tunnel would be no simple feat.
Fortunately, the decaying Nolan was teeming with creatures from different apocalypses, and hunting them would provide a wealth of useful materials.
"For each ritual location and thod I give you, you will acquire certain materials for within this apocalyptic city. I will control the quantity required each ti. By the ti I give you the final location, I will have gathered enough materials to open the spatial tunnel. How does that sound?"
the mouth in its palm proposed.
"Of course," Jenkins agreed, "but I have so questions. First, the monsters I've killed here don't seem to leave anything behind. Most of them just dissolve into soot and blow away. Second, I can't co and go from this place as I please."
"I imagine the weak monsters you've killed were all ash creatures from the tenth apocalypse. The truth of that doomsday is that a dwarf-led empire grew too greedy, digging deep into the earth for energy, and unearthed an ancient plague. Any life-form that contracted it would eventually turn to ash. But the materials I need you to acquire are from the spatial creatures of the eighth apocalypse. They leave sothing behind when they die."
"The tenth... the eighth..."
Jenkins murmured.
"Mortal, these are matters beyond your comprehension. You are my collaborator, so I'd rather you not die before fulfilling the contract. Let offer you so advice, young man: so things are better left unknown. It is for your own good, and for the good of the world..."
As for Jenkins's inability to co and go as he pleased, the old man claid he was powerless to help. With the decaying Nolan constantly drawing closer to the real one, those sensitive to dinsional shifts would be the first to be pulled in, only to be ejected for not being native to this world.
Getting here from the real world is a matter of luck; leaving requires patience.
"The closer this world draws to the real one, the longer you'll be able to remain here. So, mortal, your ti is running out. You should get moving."
With that, he gave Jenkins the location and instructions for the first ritual in the real Nolan, along with the whereabouts and general details of the spatial creatures he needed to hunt.
Jenkins considered this for a mont, then departed, promising to return soon. He leaped from the window to the square below and glanced back one last ti at the clock tower silhouetted against the moon.
"Hmph. Just as I thought, you weren't telling the whole truth. But you obviously can't leave this clock tower, either, or you wouldn't need to collect materials for you. In that case, let's just see who cos out on top in the end."
Now that this had happened, Jenkins had a new daily purpose. He would need to keep entering this apocalyptic illusion of Nolan, gather the materials the old man required, and learn the steps for the next ritual.
It would be a lengthy process, one he might not even complete before leaving Ruen to return to Nolan. But it would all be worth it.
He made it back to Ruen just in ti for dinner. Alexia was curious about what he had been up to, and after listening to his story, she agreed that his actions were mostly sound. However, she felt that rashly signing his na on a strange contract was far too risky.
"It's fine. I didn't sign my real na, anyway."
Jenkins replied vaguely, then began to ask the ladies about their day.
It had now been two weeks since Dolores and her siblings had been "driven out" of the royal palace. In all that ti, none of them had seen their father.
Today, however, Dolores had finally managed to bribe one of the newly assigned palace guards and obtained so information from inside.
"Father hasn't done anything out of the ordinary. He handles state affairs from his chambers every day, eting with a few trusted nobles and officials. I can't get in touch with the physician who sees him daily, so I don't know what his current condition is."
Salsi II had locked down the palace with the tightest security. No one could guess what the man, now approaching the end of his life, was planning. On the bright side, at least he hadn't lost his sanity due to his condition and devolved from a wise monarch into a tyrant. For now, his thods were rely harsh toward his own children.
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