"Jenkins, I wouldn't advise you to get involved with this key, but we don't have the luxury of choice anymore. If you need it, I can negotiate with Miss Fabry. She's the only one we can approach about it right now. I have to ask you one last ti: do you really need that key? Don't let my life be a factor in your decision. I've lived long enough; it doesn't matter when I die. But you must think carefully about the price of bearing this key. This is no joke."
Papa Oliver stated with great seriousness.
"Yes, Papa Oliver. Right now, I have to use any power I can get my hands on, even if it's a Cursed Item."
Jenkins replied with equal seriousness.
"Very well."
Papa Oliver agreed, gritting his teeth:
"Co with to see Miss Fabry now. Also, you must always be on your guard against the Believers of Lies. Regardless of whether those people faking their deaths are still around or actually dead, there's a purpose behind it all. Even if it's confird they're no longer competing to be the Savior, I'm certain this is another conspiracy we can't possibly foresee."
"So, is it possible they're all really dead?"
Jenkins asked tentatively.
"Jenkins, do I look like a fool to you?"
Papa Oliver snorted, then led Jenkins toward Princess Sophia's room.
After knocking, the two entered the room. Jenkins glanced at the wardrobe:
"What is it with people and hiding in wardrobes?"
He muttered as he and Papa Oliver sat down. He explained their purpose to "Miss Fabry"—the matter of the key. This wasn't part of their pre-arranged script, but Princess Sophia easily understood Jenkins's subtle wink:
"Of course, but even though we're cooperating now, I can't just give you the key for nothing."
"Well done!"
Jenkins praised her in his mind. He had ant for her to agree imdiately, but he hadn't expected the princess to realize that an imdiate agreent would seem suspicious, so she wisely rembered to state her conditions.
"Then what do you want?"
Papa Oliver asked.
"I want to et the author of the 'Detective Knight Biography'."
Jenkins saw the book lying open on the bed and, from its position, deduced that Anathasia must have been reading it just now. He realized Princess Sophia was simply helping the silver dragon fulfill a wish.
"That's no problem. The talented authoress arrived in Nolan with the delegation from the Cheslan Kingdom. If necessary, the Church can arrange a eting for you as soon as possible... Any other requests?"
Judging by Papa Oliver's expression, before they even t, the Church would probably investigate the entire family tree of the poor, uninvolved author.
"Let think... Does the Orthodox Church have any items that allow the user to apply makeup however they wish? And I an real makeup, not an illusory disguise."
This was definitely another of Princess Sophia's own requests, so Papa Oliver, who was not privy to the situation, looked even more bewildered, but he nodded nonetheless:
"I've heard of similar items, but they don't belong to the Church of the Sage, so it will take ti to acquire one. Do you need anything else?"
Neither arranging a eting with an author nor a makeup tool was nearly as valuable as the key, but Princess Sophia had no other requests:
"We can discuss other requests later. Just consider it a favor owed to by Jenkins Williams. But rest assured, I won't ask for anything too unreasonable. Do you agree?"
She looked at Jenkins. Jenkins furrowed his brow, eyeing her with suspicion. Then he glanced at Papa Oliver, and then back at her:
"Fine."
He said in a low voice, then noticed a hand erge from the wardrobe behind Papa Oliver, giving him a thumbs-up.
To prevent the restless silver dragon from bursting out of the wardrobe with laughter at any mont, Jenkins, after finishing his discussion with Miss Fabry, quickly pulled Papa Oliver out of the room.
But the key couldn't be given to Jenkins just yet. Intelligence reports indicated that the Tree House would make a final attempt on the Savior's life before he entered the tal tower. Papa Oliver wanted to do sothing for his last apprentice.
"Since my sacrifice is certain, I might as well make it more aningful."
He had lived long enough and did not fear death; he only hoped his sacrifice would be worthwhile:
"Jenkins, I'm old. It doesn't matter if I live or die, but you must co back alive."
"I will definitely co back."
He had lost count of how many tis he had said those words today.
The two of them walked through the corridor, talking as they went. They wanted to check on the negotiation venue suspended in the courtyard air. Jenkins guessed Alexia might be there, listening in.
But then Papa Oliver noticed sothing:
"One more thing. This glow all over your body... is it so kind of light effect you're creating?"
"What?"
He looked down at his hands and saw that they were indeed glowing. It was a dazzling golden light. He picked up Chocolate from his shoulder. Chocolate looked at him innocently. The cat wasn't glowing, which ant the light was coming from him:
"Oh, I think I understand."
Realization dawned on him.
He summoned his ability motes, and one of the two remaining empty bubbles was flickering with a dim light. At the sa ti, the slender, multicolored fla in his heart began to tremble:
"I can feel the power! It's ti. It's ti to establish the King Soul. Papa Oliver, I need to give a public address. Have the Church help organize it."
His face was radiant with joy.
"Of course."
A surging power flowed into Jenkins's body from all directions. It wasn't pure spirit, but sothing more akin to what one would call "faith." People weren't worshiping Jenkins himself, but the power he represented—the power to save the world, and the very species he represented.
The Four King Souls were a crucial symbol, representing Jenkins's status as the King of Humanity. As this status spread throughout the material world under the title of "Savior," that faith, born from belief in their own kind, finally converged around Jenkins.
At first, it was just specks of fluorescence around him, like golden fireflies dancing nearby. But soon, it beca a great swarm of fireflies swirling around him. A few minutes later, his entire body seed to ignite like a golden gas lamp.
On this sunless afternoon, the warm, bright color was exceptionally eye-catching. Though intensely bright, the light was surprisingly not harsh on the eyes. People could still clearly see Jenkins, who had almost turned a pure golden hue.
Furthermore, anyone who ca within a certain distance of Jenkins claid to feel their own power increase. The Church quickly offered an explanation for this phenonon: it was one of the characteristic abilities of the Uncrowned King as it was forming. Any human operating near the ability's wielder would receive a blessing from the King.
Reviews
All reviews (0)