The question surrounding this unfinished ability wasn't its unique thod of acquisition, but the fact that Jenkins seemingly had nothing to do with the disaster.
"I wasn't the cause of this disaster, so why should I be able to draw power from it?"
He stared worriedly at the white gemstone on the slate, and the cat beside him gently patted the back of his hand with its paw, as if to comfort him.
"Unless all the docunts we've acquired are mistaken, then it's possible this whole affair is related to you," Alexia pointed out. "We just don't know it yet."
Of course, Alexia had other theories as well. For instance, perhaps the disaster from which Jenkins was drawing power wasn't the one in Ruen, or maybe the incomplete ability he'd acquired wasn't "Child of Disaster" at all. But since these possibilities were remote, she didn't ntion them.
Frustrated as he was, his daily task of checking in on Nolan still had to be done. After finishing his conversation with Alexia, Jenkins returned to Nolan with Chocolate, the city that weighed heavily on his mind.
Nolan, in Jenkins's temporary absence, remained remarkably peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaotic city of Ruen. At tis, Jenkins wondered if his own arrival had brought disaster to Ruen. But the Tree House's plans had clearly been in motion for a long ti. Even if the young writer hadn't ended up in the northern kingdom because of the accident involving Chocolate, trouble would have found its way there regardless.
His luck was good today. After wandering near the city center for only half an hour, he found himself in the Doomsday Illusion. Gazing at the enormous, bright yellow moon, Jenkins breathed a sigh of relief and prepared to head to the nearby clock tower to inquire about the steps for the second ritual.
Suddenly, he heard a distinct gulping sound near his ear. He glanced around suspiciously but saw no monster larger than the tiny red spider at his feet.
"Strange," he muttered. "Have I been under so much stress lately that I'm starting to hear things?"
He muttered to himself, failing to notice his cat gazing at the moon with a look of profound yearning.
The world of the Doomsday Illusion was exactly as he had left it, as if ti had frozen in his absence. The old man with a mouth on his palm was also unchanged, informing Jenkins of the location, thod, and necessary spatial materials for the next ritual in the sa dull, monotonous voice.
Hunting monsters took up a bit more of his ti. Afterward, he still needed to find Magic Miss back in the real world and entrust her with the ritual preparations. Only then would his tasks for the day be mostly complete.
Before he left, Magic Miss inford him that she had finalized the plan to pursue the pirate king and asked when he would be available.
"I can make ti whenever. But how many people have you brought together for this?"
Jenkins inquired.
"Besides the two of us, there's Mr. Hood. Silver Flute Miss was supposed to join us, but I received a letter from her yesterday. She said she's run into so trouble and won't be coming anywhere near Nolan for a while."
As the sun began to set, Jenkins walked alone through the streets of Nolan, carrying his cat. He pondered both the grand questions of life and the trivial matter of what to have for dinner, then made his way to the bar that served as the entrance to the black market to check for any mail.
Indeed, two letters were waiting for "Candle Mr." One was from Mr. Black Cat in Dullin, and the other from Mr. White Cat in Nolan. The forr inford Jenkins that the suspicious tobacco had also appeared in Dullin, but since the Orthodox Church was now involved, it was difficult for him to investigate further. The latter provided the specific ti for hunting the aberrations to acquire materials—this weekend—and told Candle Mr to be ready.
"Today is Wednesday. Friday, I have Hathaway's ga, and this weekend, it's those malevolent aberrations. It looks like this is going to be a busy week."
It was already mid-April. Jenkins hadn't had a mont's rest in the first three months of the year, constantly caught between conspiracies and bloodshed. He hadn't even had a chance to enjoy the warmth of spring before being forced to endure winter all over again in the frigid northern kingdom.
Jenkins didn't actually dislike winter, but experiencing a single season for so long was bound to beco exhausting.
This Wednesday evening, he did nothing more. Instead, he sat alone on a stone bench beneath the estate's flower trellis, ticulously maintaining his weapons. Although his sword and cane were both Series C Bestowals, unlikely to suffer damage from ti or the elents, Jenkins enjoyed the ritual. It was a chance to relax and simply be.
As he polished his weapons, he would occasionally lift his gaze to the starry sky. His cat was curled up obediently beside him, twitching now and then in its sleep for reasons unknown.
The peaceful atmosphere quieted his mind, giving the perpetually busy Jenkins a rare mont for introspection. He silently and deliberately wiped his sword again and again with a cloth, only to realize the blade had, at so point, sliced the fabric cleanly in two.
"..."
He took one of the halves and began vigorously polishing his cane. The staff was entirely black but wasn't a perfect cone or cylinder. Its surface possessed the natural, uneven texture of a tree branch, the wood grain clearly visible beneath its dark exterior.
"It's so peaceful," he murmured. "I truly do prefer a quiet life like this."
He sighed softly. Seeing the cat sleeping soundly beside him, he lifted his cane and gently tapped the ground beneath the stone bench. On the lawn, where monts before only tender shoots had sprouted, stems and leaves began to grow at a visible speed. Once they reached the height of the bench, they spread out horizontally, forming a living blanket over Chocolate.
"Its origins may be a mystery, but this cane is certainly useful."
Jenkins thought with satisfaction, savoring the quiet mont. But the peace did not last long, nor did Chocolate's nap in the cool night air. Both were shattered by the hurried arrival of Julia.
The young maid looked as if she had sprinted all the way from the manor, hiking up her skirt to run. She was gasping for breath as she spoke:
"Mr. Williams, we just received urgent dispatches from Bel Diran and Dullin! Two hours ago, the Kingdom of Cheslan officially declared war on the Fidektri Kingdom!"
Jenkins froze, the cloth still in his hand. He stared at Julia in confusion for several seconds before the aning of her words sank in. He opened his mouth, but no words ca out. Instead, he stood up, recalled his sword and cane into his spirit, and scooped up his cat, who was now grumpily awake.
"The war... has begun? Just two hours ago?"
He sought confirmation.
"Yes, Mr. Williams. I believe the war has begun. And if, as you've said, the Eighteenth Epoch is truly drawing to a close, then this conflict... it's likely to be the last great war of our ti."
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