The delegation sent by the Church and the Kingdom to receive King Salsi II and his retinue skirted around the Believers of Lies standing before the bonfire, circling to et the returning party. The blankets and hot water they had prepared were put to good use.
As for the thing Jenkins had pinned to the embers with his sword, the Church had its own thods of sealing. Though it was a Cursed Item, it was, in essence, a soul. Rituals effective against souls would work on it as well, albeit with diminished results.
“Papa Oliver’s wishes are... this way, please.”
After Jenkins retrieved his sword, Mr. Gilbert walked with him toward the tent closest to the bonfire. The return of the king’s party had thrown the camp into chaos. Under normal circumstances, Candle Gentleman was forbidden from approaching Dolores, but in the confusion, they happened to brush past one another.
Dolores suppressed the urge to embrace him and hurried toward her father. Alexia paused, watching them for a mont, then decided to follow Jenkins to see what would happen next.
A Scribe at the entrance held back the tent flap, and Jenkins, Alexia, and Mr. Gilbert entered in single file.
In the center of the tent stood a long table surrounded by eight wooden chairs. A simple cabinet rested against the canvas wall. A kerosene lamp, suspended by an iron chain from the peak of the tent, provided a steady light. On the table, a silver candelabra held three sockets, though only one candle was currently lit.
The three demigods of the Sage Church, along with Saint Strass and Papa Oliver, were already waiting inside.
“Papa Oliver wishes to speak with you personally,” Mr. Gilbert announced.
Alexia was not a mber of the Sage Church, but because of her connection to Jenkins, everyone trusted her. As it happened, the eight people in the tent perfectly filled the eight chairs.
Once they were seated, Papa Oliver, who had been resting his clasped hands on the table, gazed at the stranger across from him and let out a deep sigh. He then posed a critical question:
“We can give you the key, but you must explain why you want it.”
“The key is very powerful, which is why we want it. But the curse it carries is equally fearso, so you will continue to hold it for now. We will claim it when the ti is right.
“That is the entirety of our deal. If the Sage Church agrees, you can bring Williatte here now, and the Dragon Soul can be his.”
“The Dragon Soul is with you?” Papa Oliver asked.
“You can speculate all you like, but the key is what’s important right now. It’s getting late, and it will be dawn soon. Please give an answer. I’m in a hurry to get ho for breakfast.”
Miss Strass glanced at Papa Oliver. He hesitated for a mont but finally nodded.
“The Holy See has authorized to handle this myself. They will not interfere. I think... yes, I can agree.”
“Simply saying so is no guarantee of future action, especially since we cannot take physical possession of the key now. How about this: Mr. Oliver, you don’t need to make a pact with us. I just want to see the key with my own eyes.”
“The key is cursed. Anyone other than the holder will be hard just by looking at it.”
“That’s fine. I don’t mind.”
Then he turned to Alexia. “Miss, if you would be so kind as to fetch Mr. Williatte. Yes, right here. I don’t think any of us want any more complications.”
He winked at Alexia, who nodded in understanding, stood up, and left the tent.
Papa Oliver had no choice but to concede. “Then everyone except this gentleman, please step outside and perform a containnt ritual around this tent to prevent that dreadful power from leaking. Furthermore, no one besides those of us present can know what transpires here, not even the followers of the other Righteous Gods.”
“You have the key on you?” Jenkins asked, his curiosity piqued. He scanned Papa Oliver with his Eye of Reality but saw no black aura.
“You’ll see in a mont.”
Once he confird that the ritual preparations outside were complete, Papa Oliver motioned for Candle Gentleman to watch closely before asking a question of his own.
“You didn’t think that only C-class Bestowals could be carried on one’s person, did you?”
Seeing the look of realization dawn on the other man’s face, Papa Oliver clasped his hands tightly and closed his eyes. An extraordinary power radiated from him, compelling both Jenkins and Chocolate to crane their necks forward. A black light, visible to the naked eye, shot out from between Papa Oliver’s fingers. Instantly, both the Silver Key and the Door Key within Jenkins began to stir restlessly.
Typically, the principle of like-devouring-like would only manifest when two items were in extrely close proximity. But this ti, the two Bestowals were still nestled within Jenkins’s spirit, and Papa Oliver’s evolutionary key had yet to be fully revealed, yet they already yearned to consu one another.
An indescribable, imnse, and chaotic power emanated from Papa Oliver’s clasped hands. It was as chilling as any Cursed Item, yet the feeling of it being utterly alien to the world was far more intense. The key, still hidden from view, felt as vast and profound as a divine domain manifesting before his very eyes.
“Hmm? A divine domain?”
Co to think of it, the Skull Sword had once given him a similar impression, but that feeling had vanished after its defeat. Jenkins had seen very few divine domains, so he couldn’t be certain if it was just his imagination. But one thing was clear: the key held within Papa Oliver’s palms was truly remarkable.
It was likely even stronger than the Skull Sword, making it the most powerful Cursed Item Jenkins had ever witnessed.
As the black light scattered from between his fingers, Chocolate stood on Jenkins’s shoulder like a tiny sentinel, letting out a completely non-threatening “ow.”
For a fleeting mont, Jenkins saw the shadow Papa Oliver cast on the tent wall twist into the shape of a slavering monster. But he blinked, and the illusion was gone.
To think that even without a direct look, the re presence of its power could induce hallucinations in soone of Jenkins’s strength—this was no laughing matter.
“I must ask you again, are you certain you want to see the key with your own eyes? I cannot guarantee what will happen. You must be absolutely sure,” Papa Oliver warned once more.
“It’s fine. I’ve made up my mind,” Jenkins said, his voice steady but cautious.
“Do you want to leave your real information? If sothing happens to you, we could at least find...”
“That won’t be necessary. Open your hands.”
“Very well, then. But only for a second. Any longer and I can’t guarantee the ritual outside will hold. Don’t blink. Just one second...”
Jenkins stood up, leaning forward over the table with both hands, his cat mirroring his posture. Papa Oliver also extended his arms, positioning his clasped hands directly under the best light of the overhead kerosene lamp.
“Don’t blink,” he cautioned one last ti, and without waiting for a reply, he opened his hands.
Jenkins was sure he saw a black iron key, old-fashioned and utterly unremarkable. But in the next instant, a strange tremor seized him, and the spirit coursing through his body shuddered violently in ti with his racing heart.
Before he could even process what had happened, Papa Oliver’s hands snapped shut, and the key was gone. Jenkins stared in stunned silence for several seconds before slowly slumping back into his chair.
“Did you see it clearly?” Papa Oliver asked, letting out a long sigh of relief now that the key was safely contained.
“I saw it. It’s an incredibly powerful object. You truly are Williatte’s teacher, to be able to contain a Cursed Item of that magnitude all by yourself.”
“Holding the key isn’t the difficult part. The difficulty is... well, you’ll understand if you ever truly need to use it. Are you satisfied now? Is there anything else you require?”
“I want to know how to use it.”
“It’s a key. How do you think one uses it?” Papa Oliver said, rising to his feet, ready to leave the tent to the Believer of Lies and the soon-to-arrive Jenkins.
“Could you be more specific?”
“The specifics of its use... I will tell you when the ti cos for you to use it. Fine, I can tell you this much: I was once a demigod. The reason I can so perfectly suppress my power to this level is because I used the key.”
With that, he turned and walked out of the tent without another word. Jenkins raised a hand to wipe away the nervous sweat on his brow. He placed Chocolate on the table and began to stroke his fur, acting as if he was completely oblivious to the fact that his cat had also seen the key.
“Even if that key isn’t a divine domain, it’s absolutely sothing extraordinary,” he said to himself internally, summoning the glowing motes of his abilities. From that single glance, which lasted less than a second, one of his abilities had transford.
Cycle (White Basic) → Four Seasons (White Basic)
The original Cycle ability had always contained an elent related to evolution, so it was understandable that it would evolve under the stimulus of that key. Both Papa Oliver and Audrey had ntioned that Cycle had the potential to develop into sothing new. However, Four Seasons was a different evolutionary path from what either of them had suggested.
The ability was still classified as a basic type. When Jenkins tried to activate it, he got no response.
“A passive ability? What does that an? And what does Four Seasons have to do with evolution?”
With no imdiate answers, he let the questions rest and projected himself back to his ho on St. George Street. After Alexia arrived, he accompanied her to the camp on the outskirts of the city, entered the tent alone, and completed the “transfer of the Dragon Soul.”
His performance was flawless. No one suspected that there had only ever been one person in the tent. And when Papa Oliver confird that Jenkins had truly obtained all four King Souls, the joy and elation on his face were impossible to hide.
“So, Papa Oliver, what’s the price?”
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