"What, does the thought of dissecting a corpse ruin your image of ?"
The petite woman swept a lock of hair from her face, asking with a teasing smile.
"Of course not."
Jenkins quickly shook his head. "I was just curious how you learned to perform an autopsy. It's hardly a skill one picks up through conventional channels."
"With enough determination, you can learn anything. A long ti ago, I knew a gravedigger who lived in the countryside. Yes, a gravedigger retired from the Church, and a woman, no less—a rare thing indeed. I served as her apprentice for a while, and that's where I learned professional autopsy techniques... Anyway, do you want to hear my conclusion? It's a truly surprising discovery. The corpse itself held little value; at best, it would have made for a more powerful explosion as a material component for the Corpse Explosion Art. The real value is that I found the cause of death."
"Do you an the cause of his first death, the one that made him a corpse to begin with? Or the cause of death when he was killed in front of ?"
Jenkins inquired.
"The latter. From the countless wounds—it looked as though he'd been pierced by hundreds of arrows—I extracted this!"
She spoke, holding out a small glass vial in her palm, no thicker than an index finger. It was the kind of equipnt Enchanters purchased for handling materials; otherwise, one could only find such things in a university laboratory.
"Is this... lunar essence?"
He craned his neck and squinted for a long mont before he could make out the liquid inside the small vial. It emitted a pale yellow glow and looked strangely alluring. Jenkins took it, holding it up against the night sky before hazarding a guess. After all, lunar essence was supposed to be blue or red.
The cat, which had been lounging on the coffee table, instantly grew alert.
"Yes. You once suggested that what killed Mr. Corpse was a projection of the primordial moon from the Doomsday Illusion, and it seems your guess was spot on. This lunar essence has far more ancient properties; it's more condensed and spiritually potent than the essence extracted by the followers of the Unlit Moon. The color also matches historical records of the material world's primordial moon. It's astonishing. I thought the Doomsday Illusion was rely an illusion, but it now appears to contain actual information, substances, and even spirits from the past. That's incredibly valuable.
If you have the ti, you could wander around in there a bit more—while ensuring your own safety, of course. Who knows, you might stumble upon a discovery that could change humanity's understanding of history."
Alexia remarked, taking the small vial back from Jenkins and setting it on the coffee table. Whether by coincidence or design, she placed it directly in front of the cat. Chocolate arched its back, cautiously craning its neck to sniff the vial, its entire body radiating suspicion.
Large-scale wars are never over in a day or two. Not to ntion the direct conflict between the two kingdoms, even the decisive battle in the Shattered Archipelago off the coast, which had been reporting frequent victories since last week, still showed no sign of concluding.
The people of Nolan were torn. On one hand, they anxiously awaited the safe return of their loved ones—the kingdom's navy was comprised mostly of Nolan natives. On the other, they feared the n would be imdiately thrown into yet another war.
The very day Jenkins's letter from Ruen reached Briny's hands in Nolan, Hathaway had been at the club, voicing her anxieties about the war. Such fears were common throughout the city; only a family like the Williamses, with no mbers in the military, could afford a certain level of detachnt.
"My father sent a letter to my mother from the front, reassuring her that he's fine, that the final battle will be over soon, and that he'll be ho right after... But he's been saying the sa thing in every letter since last week. Mother is so worried now, she's asked him to press his own handprint on the next one, just to prove he's still alive."
The red-haired woman said.
"It should be over soon. The naval battle in the Shattered Archipelago has dragged on for nearly two months. Even if both sides wanted to press on, their supply lines would surely be strained. It's a war at sea, after all... Don't worry. You know the strength of Nolan's navy better than I do."
Jenkins murmured reassuringly, though he wasn't sure what else to say.
It seed as if, in the span of a single week, everyone he knew had been affected by the war. The won in Ruen and Nolan, his friends across the world—all of them spoke of how the conflict was impacting their lives. Only his carefree cat remained indifferent, though it did occasionally eavesdrop on Jenkins's conversations for its daily amusent.
The diplomatic reception Dolores invited Jenkins to was scheduled for Tuesday night, the last day of April. The coming of May ant sumr was just around the corner. A pang of lancholy struck Jenkins at the thought; he had spent the pri of the season in this northern, snowy kingdom, and in doing so, had missed the first spring of his new life in this world.
It wasn't that he disliked Ruen; it was just a sha to have missed the spring.
Alexia had no interest in such events; she preferred to stay at the manor with her books. Julia, too, was unable to attend such a high-society function, so she also remained behind.
Jenkins had intended to leave Chocolate behind, too. Bringing a pet to such a social function was terribly impolite. He didn't much care for his own reputation, but this was a reception hosted by Dolores, and he couldn't cause her any embarrassnt.
Predictably, Chocolate would have none of it. The cat proceeded to cause all sorts of trouble while Jenkins was changing, nearly destroying the black formal jacket he'd acquired from the church. In the end, Jenkins had no choice but to agree to take the cat along, on the condition that it hide inside his clothes and stay perfectly still.
"So you're wearing all those layers today just so your chest doesn't look bulky?"
He ran into Alexia on the second floor, who comnted on his attire with a laugh. Ruen was well past winter now; there was no need to wear so many layers under a suit for an evening event.
"But you have to admit, this is very proper attire. I'm told this is how one is supposed to dress for a reception."
He retorted stubbornly.
"Yes, but that was the fashion three hundred years ago. These days, only elderly aristocrats dress like that, and only when attending a royal banquet... Perhaps you need a powdered white wig to complete the ensemble."
In the end, Jenkins took Alexia's advice. He shed the cumberso layers and changed into an outfit designed to complent Dolores's evening gown. The change, however, left no room for Chocolate to hide. Alexia simply suggested the cat could ride on Jenkins's shoulder instead.
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