The oppressive air and torrential rain, once a barrier, could no longer hold Jenkins back after the dual-colored light appeared. Even so, every step forward was more arduous than scaling a mountain.
Fortunately, the mont Jenkins, nearly drained of all strength, managed to "squeeze" onto the slightly ethereal path, the resistance vanished. It seed the force was only intended to bar his entry, not to impede his movent once he was on the road itself.
"What are you trying to do?"
He shouted at the two quadrupedal monsters. Their attention captured, they ceased their advance on the crying infant and turned their heads toward Jenkins.
Then, they began to "dissolve" in the downpour. But what splattered onto the road wasn't chunks of flesh, but a great, writhing mass of white worms.
The two beasts, it turned out, were composed entirely of worms.
The dense swarm scattered across the ground, then surged toward Jenkins at an alarming speed. He instinctively tried to back away, only to find his feet rooted to the spot.
He didn't panic. He had already considered the consequences when he decided to intervene. Though this Mysterious Realm only permitted the use of nature-related abilities, it didn't an he was out of options.
"All things are of nature,"
he declared again, extending a hand to catch the ceaseless raindrops.
"Water is the source of all things, and so water is nature."
Following his own logic, bathed in the golden and green radiance surrounding him, he felt the water stream over his hand and slip through his fingers.
"Ice is but water solidified, and so ice is also of nature."
A white frost emanated from his hands. The [Ice Solidification] ability, which had seed unusable before, now flared to life.
"Ice Solidification,"
He attuned himself to the rain, pointing his right index finger forward to et a falling droplet. Ti itself seed to freeze in that instant. A sharp, crackling sound radiated outward, like a massive white halo expanding from Jenkins's position.
Frozen. Everything was frozen. The water on the path turned to a sheet of ice, the writhing worms beca ice sculptures. Even the raindrops hanging in the sky were suspended, perfectly still in the extre cold.
It was reminiscent of his display back in Ruen, but that had been with the aid of the Snowman Legion. This ti, the power of the Mysterious Realm itself was assisting him. Once his abilities were recognized as forces of nature, their potency within this realm was magnified imnsely. That, combined with his inexplicable insight into the rain, had produced this staggering result.
At least for now, the Jenkins of the material world was incapable of such a feat.
He walked forward, his foot shattering the ice sculpture that had been the tidal wave of worms. He watched their frozen carcasses, then with a re thought, released the suspended raindrops. The patter of the downpour returned in a rush. The rain quickly washed the remains of the worms away, and Jenkins crossed to the other side of the path. He bent down and, with a practiced motion he had learned from holding Chocolate, lifted the bundle of swaddling clothes from the filthy corner.
The bundle was soaked through. The hairless infant inside was still wailing, showing no sign of comfort at being held.
He turned and walked toward the church's iron gate. Taking out a seed, he used his [Life Source]—an ability he could only employ once here—to grow a massive blade of grass from the earth. He carefully placed the infant beneath its leafy shelter before pounding forcefully on the heavy gate.
The Mysterious Realm had only conjured a portion of the road and the gate; Jenkins had no idea what lay beyond it. But he was confident the sound he'd made was loud enough. He gave the child one last look, then retreated from the path and returned to the riverbank.
As he departed, the spectral road began to fade. The last thing Jenkins saw was a younger Ery Capet opening the gate, umbrella in hand. She stared in astonishnt at the blade of grass before lifting the crying infant into her arms.
Jenkins turned his head. Even in the pouring rain, he could clearly see that Sigrid was weeping.
"What was that all about?"
he asked the corpse, which still lay unburied on the pile of pebbles.
"Everything is inevitable,"
the corpse spoke, though this ti it didn't reach for anyone's hand. Its words were still directed at Sigrid.
"Everything happens for a reason. For the twenty-three years of your life, you have been searching for your origins, searching for your family. But when the ti cos that you can truly find them, will you be able to face the truth?"
"I object! This isn't a trial of nature!"
Jenkins imdiately protested to the elf on the far bank. The figure simply shook its head slightly in the downpour.
"This is a trial of the spirit."
"You are a child of nature, a descendant of those who served the World Tree, one of the most venerated people in the mortal realm."
The corpse continued to address Sigrid.
"You saved your life with the lives of those two deer. So, the deer returned to the very beginning, seeking what was fair. If that man hadn't intervened, you should have been the one to face your own destiny. You should have been the one to save yourself, to atone for past mistakes by saving your infant self. You would have had to pay a price to end the past and resolve all your sorrows... But now, soone else has paid that price for you, fulfilling your destiny. So, what price will you now pay to him?"
"Did I really just ddle with the past?"
Jenkins interjected, turning to Sigrid.
"Back when Sister Capet found you, was there actually a blade of grass like that on the ground?"
She didn't answer, her gaze fixed on the corpse as she spoke.
"If everything that happened was truly fate, then this too was a choice I made. I understand now what you wanted to tell . I know my own heart, and I understand my destiny."
For a fleeting instant, a smile seed to cross the corpse's face. After that, it spoke no more.
Sigrid wiped away the mixture of rain and tears from her face. Soaked to the bone, she stood there and turned to Jenkins.
"As for whether that was the actual past... I'm never going to tell you."
She pressed her lips together, a gesture that usually signaled nervousness or anger.
Jenkins would never understand the minds of won. But that wasn't important. What mattered was that through this ordeal, Sigrid could finally resolve her inner turmoil and face herself. That was the best possible outco.
Of course, she did thank him afterward in a small voice, so quiet he almost thought he'd imagined it. But he didn't care about receiving thanks. He was satisfied just knowing that his actions had truly helped her.
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