The warm yellow light barely illuminated the terrace. Perhaps reading Jenkins's unspoken intentions on his face, Marquis Mikhail shook his head to stop him before he could even ntion the two young ladies' nas.
"Let's talk about that once everything has settled," he said. "We're dealing with matters of state. Now is not the ti to discuss other things."
Earl Hersha held the sa view, apparently confident that Jenkins would not renege on his promises after becoming king. Given this, Jenkins abandoned the topic of marriage for the ti being, though he remained curious about how the two n truly felt about their daughters both moving in with him.
Although Miss Windsor hadn't known Jenkins as long as the other young won, she had gotten a good sense of his character in just a few short months. Sensing his curiosity, she gave a subtle tug on his sleeve, warning him to choose his words carefully.
"In any case, everything is going smoothly so far. The army has run into a few issues, but they're not unsolvable. The Church is..."
Jenkins let his voice trail off and raised his glass. The Marquis and the Earl followed suit, while Miss Windsor took a step back.
"To everything going smoothly."
The three n spoke in unison. The hazy moonlight, shrouded by gray mist and dark clouds, was too faint to illuminate their forms. Even the dim gas lamp on the terrace failed to pull their faces from the shadows.
Everything would work out; revolutions always ignited at such pivotal monts in history. Jenkins, who had never desired the crown, now found himself pushed toward the throne by his supporters. Every plotted conspiracy, every woven lie, was eating away at the foundations of this powerful, though not ancient, kingdom.
The navy, the bureaucracy, the Church—all of Jenkins's supporters, even those unknown to him, were gnawing away at the kingdom like ants. The tentacles of deceit had coiled tightly around the Fidektri Kingdom, and the shadow of conspiracy hovered over its clear skies like a giant playing chess, willfully rewriting the old order...
"That's not right, I'm the good guy!"
Raising his glass, Jenkins leaned forward slightly, letting his face catch the light. It was faint, yet it was enough for the young stranger to reveal his face to the world.
"We will succeed. For the sake of everything."
He murmured, then raised the glass and drained the pear water in one go. Marquis Mikhail and Earl Hersha downed their drinks as well. Setting their glasses down, they watched Jenkins, this remarkable young man standing before them.
"For everything."
Jenkins repeated, not caring if the two n fully understood the weight of his words. He let out a breath and continued speaking.
"There's sothing I need to be honest with you both about."
He set his glass on the saucer of a small side table and dipped his finger in the remaining drops of juice. Offering it to his cat, Chocolate, the feline readily hooked its paws around Jenkins’s neck, stretched its head forward, and began licking his finger.
"I'm actually an Enchanter with the Church... I hope you understand the term."
A look of surprise crossed Earl Hersha's face, while Marquis Mikhail simply laughed.
"I knew it."
He turned to look down below, toward the distant city.
"Williatte, I'm quite curious. Have you been plotting to take the throne for a long ti? I know it sounds impossible, but the fact that everyone is supporting you now... it doesn't seem like a coincidence."
"No, I was simply chosen by fate."
Jenkins was telling the truth, but the words sounded incredibly arrogant. The Marquis didn't seem to mind, just let out a sigh.
"Let's just hope it all goes smoothly. After all, our queen is not the type to simply wait for her own demise."
The soirée concluded around half-past nine. With Miss Windsor's assistance, Jenkins managed to politely refuse the invitations from several enthusiastic young ladies to "go ho and read a book together." Partway through their journey, he also turned down Miss Windsor's offer to escort him all the way ho.
After parting ways with the young woman, Jenkins, cat in tow, hurried off toward the civic square. He was worried about the black tower and the exploration team; anxiety had been gnawing at him all evening.
The night fog enveloped the streets like a thin veil. Though it sounded romantic, it posed a serious danger to travelers. Jenkins had half-expected his luck would run out and he would encounter the monsters the Perfu Appreciation Committee called "Crawlers in the Fog," but his journey was surprisingly uneventful. He quickly reached the base of the tower.
A police line from KalFax Field had been marked on the ground, and barricades of unknown origin blocked the several paths into the civic square. After presenting his identification, Jenkins entered and saw that even more Enchanters had gathered than when he had left.
"Did sothing happen?"
He wondered, looking around for Miss Bevanna or another of the Church's demigods. But after scanning the crowd, he couldn't find them. Instead, he spotted Professor Burns and the Keeper of Secrets, Mr. Smith, under a makeshift rain shelter near the tower's base. He hurried over, discovering three Keepers of Secrets from the Legacy Sage Church gathered there, along with dozens of their apprentices.
Miss Bevanna was nowhere to be seen. The door to the black tal tower was shut tight, with a wooden board bearing a "No Entry" sign placed before it. No one was standing near the entrance. The first expedition had clearly concluded.
Noticing Jenkins's brisk approach, the Keeper of Secrets, Mr. Smith, waved a greeting.
"What happened?"
Jenkins was certain there had been an incident.
"Where are Miss Bevanna and Mr. Gilbert? I noticed there aren't many demigods left on guard."
he pressed, pulling a lady's pocket watch from his coat. With a soft click, he flipped it open to check the ti. It wasn't terribly late.
Professor Burns handed him a cup of water. Everyone could see he had run all the way here and was still catching his breath.
"The operation to explore the tower failed. There was a major incident."
Keeper of Secrets Smith answered, dropping his pencil onto an unfinished sketch of the tower's exterior that lay on the table.
"What kind of incident? What's inside the tower? Did sothing get out?"
Jenkins asked nervously, holding the cup.
"It's difficult to answer your questions with a simple yes or no. The truth is, we don't know what happened in there. Oh, don't be confused—our people did go in, and they did co out. But the people who ca out were... different from the ones who went in."
Only Keeper of Secrets Smith spoke. The others were listening, as was Jenkins, but they continued with their work, all of them clearly aware of what had just happened.
"Around seven-thirty, the first five-person team went inside the tower. The door wasn't locked—it opened with a simple push, but from the outside, we couldn't see a thing. The five chosen for the expedition were elites from the Twelve Orthodox Churches, equipped with nurous trinkets to ward off curses. Thirty-two minutes after they entered, all five of them walked back out. But we soon realized sothing was wrong. Although they looked exactly the sa as when they went in—even their speech patterns, thought processes, and expressed emotions were identical—if you listened very carefully, you could hear the sound of gears turning inside each of them..."
Jenkins drew in a sharp breath. He could already guess what had happened.
"It was terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. If they had simply been replaced, it would have been one thing. But the five... things... we can't even describe that walked out of that tower actually believed they were the very sa people who had walked in thirty-two minutes before."
"They were transford?"
Jenkins asked.
"Yes, transford. We have no idea what happened inside that tower, but they had been changed from beings of flesh and blood into creatures of pure machinery. Even their souls were warped into sothing hideous. We managed to subdue two of them on the spot. Of the remaining three, one self-destructed..."
Mr. Smith gestured to a blackened patch of ground not far away. The earth was slightly sunken, but it didn't look like the explosion had been particularly powerful.
"The other two went berserk and started attacking people, so we had no choice but to dismantle their locomotive and vocal components."
He recounted the events with visible difficulty, his brow furrowing deeper as he described what happened after the "fight."
"In any case, Bevanna has left for now with those... peculiar creatures, escorting them for further examination. As for exploring the tower, the plan has been shelved. No one is to open that door until we understand how this transformation occurs."
Though the night's events at the tower were certainly horrifying, it was much better than the worst-case scenarios Jenkins had been imagining. He wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or distressed, so he simply asked another question.
"So, we're just leaving the tower here? Ignoring it? I have a feeling that's going to cause so serious problems."
Jenkins wasn't the only one with that feeling. However, the tower's structure and materials were peculiar, and no one could figure out a way to destroy it so quickly. Using a thod like a maze-lock to temporarily isolate it from the material world was also out of the question—the tower was simply too large for mortals to have any ans of shearing off such a vast pocket of space.
But Jenkins had a point. Doing nothing was the worst possible option. So, while the transford individuals were being studied, the Church had to take so action to ensure it could cope with any new mutations that might arise.
"I heard from Bevanna that the Twelve Churches Joint Conference has been moved up. The word is we won't be waiting until after the Tri-King Summit—the sooner the better. That way, we can make a pact with the Believers of Lies sooner and choose the true Savior to lead us against this dreadful disaster."
An elderly female Keeper of Secrets added from the side. This, at least, was a rare piece of good news.
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