For a mont, the world beca an ocean of electricity. Lightning forged itself into chains, streaking through every falling raindrop. The flashes ford a vast electric web, each drop of rain a shimring node. At the center of this imnse grid was the small hamr. Even Jenkins, who had been relaxed a mont ago, couldn't help but narrow his eyes and look up at the arcs of electricity surging deep within the sky.
"I knew it," he thought. "Anything with 'God' in its na is never going to be simple."
When he had researched the Stopped Clock and the chanical Heart, Jenkins had also looked for information on this hamr. But while he could find traces of the first two in the Secret Trace Library behind the Gate of All Things, the hamr yielded no clues whatsoever. That in itself spoke to the terrifying nature of C-08-2-5930, the Wrath of the Thunder God.
Now, faced with the man holding the hamr aloft as he flew uncontrollably into the sky, the restless spirit and surging energy in the air reaching their peak, Jenkins pulled the cat from his coat and tossed it far away. Then, gripping his cane, he leaped.
Just then, the thunderbolt descended. A burst of brilliant white light turned the night into a fleeting day. The deafening thunder refused to fade, and the black lightning sent a paralyzing sensation through people even in the distance. For five short seconds, every magnet in Nolan and the surrounding areas failed. Even the battlefield where the Mist Giant fought paused for a mont, stunned by the terrifying strike.
The thunder ended, but the arcs of electricity lingered. A deep scar in the ground, starting from where Jenkins had been standing, marked his trajectory.
The demigod from the Gear Artisans' Association landed, trembling, the hamr still in his grasp. Pushing the weapon to its absolute limit for that one strike had created an aftershock that almost flattened the entire city. But he had held back sowhat, so in the end, only the buildings on the street that took the direct hit had collapsed. Because the lightning had been so highly concentrated, it had only left a deep crater, twenty feet across, still crackling with residual electricity.
The rain was still falling and would soon fill the crater. Fortunately, there were no gas pipes under this street; otherwise, the impact of that strike would have been far more than a re light show.
Still, the hamr's wielder was uneasy. He followed the drag mark on the ground, watching where it tore through three streets before stopping in the garden of a large mansion.
Smoke still rising from his body, Jenkins pushed himself to his feet on the mansion's lawn. Thanks to so deliberate protection, his black overcoat was now little more than rags, but his shirt and trousers were mostly intact. He stood on the grass and exhaled slowly, a puff of white smoke escaping his lips.
"I'll tell you what."
Jenkins watched the man descend from the sky, following his trail. Though his voice was hoarse when he spoke, it was still recognizable.
"From your attack, I have co to appreciate the power of lightning. I may not have gained an ability, but I've at least picked up a few tricks for controlling it—that's what I'm planning on telling the Church, anyway."
"You don't think I still have the strength to kill you, do you? Can you even stand steady?"
The man in the black formal suit asked, having already recovered from the energy drain of that last strike.
"We've investigated you. You've been an Enchanter for a year at most. Even if an item from the Church protected you, how many more tricks do you have up your sleeve to stay alive?"
He seed to have misunderstood the reason Jenkins had survived.
"You're not a demigod. You don't know the difference between a normal Enchanter and a demigod who has truly found their own path to advancent. Stop putting on a brave face. Without the protection of another item, that last strike should have cooked your organs. Enchanters who master the power of life truly are terrifying—to be able to stand up after a wound like that... If I wasn't certain you were an ordinary person a year ago, I'd almost suspect you were the world's..."
He didn't use the hamr again. Instead, he pinched a small gear from his pocket. It was an ordinary piece of tal, but as he chanted an incantation, a faint spiritual light coated its surface.
Jenkins recognized it: a common spell ability, tal Detonation. To be specific, it made tal objects explosive. Only Enchanters of the sixth level or higher could learn it, and its explosive power was imnse—at least comparable to the low-quality explosive talismans Jenkins had used in the past.
"Not using the hamr? So that last attack did take its toll on you."
He said this deliberately. He had already prepared his counterattack and had even moved to the edge of the battlefield for it. Although he knew he would win, it was always a bit unsettling when things didn't go according to his script.
"There's no need to provoke . It's useless."
The demigod flicked his finger, and the piece of tal shot toward Jenkins. But as it exploded, the man with the hamr was surprised to see shards of ice fly everywhere. He frowned, then casually tossed a handful of iron filings into the rain. The filings didn't fall to the ground; instead, they drifted unnaturally toward the space behind the dust from the explosion.
"Still alive?"
He knew the Church would be here any second, so no matter how confident he was, he couldn't afford to delay. He used the sa trick again, leaping into the air and raising the Wrath of the Thunder God to call down another black thunderbolt.
But this ti, just as the lightning struck, Jenkins shot up from the ground.
Titan's Power!
His right hand closed around empty air, "gripping" the black lightning bolt itself. He landed lightly, his body shifting slightly back and to the side, his center of gravity dropping as he pulled his right elbow back. The lightning struggled against his grasp, lashing out into the rain, but its core energy remained focused and unbroken. Then, like a javelin thrower, Jenkins hurled the black lightning right back at its source.
Whether it was the power of the Titan augnting the lightning or Jenkins's own power infecting the bolt, no one could say. As it left his hand, the lightning transford mid-air into a brilliant gold and pierced straight through the unprepared man in the sky.
He scread and plumted from the sky. As he fell, Jenkins t him head-on. The demigod swung his hamr down, aiming for Jenkins's skull. Jenkins ignored the crackling electricity and threw a punch straight up, sending the man—already paralyzed by the lightning—flying. He tumbled across the lawn several tis before skidding to a halt.
Jenkins gave him no chance to recover. As he lunged at his enemy, flas erupted from his hands, not to burn the man, but to conceal the weapon hidden within the fire.
Clang~
The White Bone Holy Sword stabbed toward the man's chest. He had expected to hit a tal plate, but to his surprise, the blade sank straight in.
"No chanical modifications? The technology must be immature, so they're only using it on low-level Enchanters..."
He muttered to himself, then fiercely twisted his wrist, letting the blade slice through the man's insides. He quickly withdrew the holy sword, intending to land one final, more ordinary-looking blow to finish him off, but was caught off guard when the ground beneath his feet began to squirm.
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