Jenkins gave the wooden cabin a cursory glance. After confirming the absence of any spiritual glow with his special sight, he strode across the groaning floorboards to a corner of the room. Following the guidance of fate, he pried up the floorboards with his knife and, just as he expected, found a book-like object wrapped in waterproof kraft paper.
Pinching his nose, he set the kraft paper bundle on the floor beside him, then knelt and reached his other hand into the dark void beneath the floorboards to feel around. Aside from a sticky, slimy sensation, he did indeed find sothing else. Tucked away in the hollow space were two exquisite glass bottles, but the liquid inside them was a murky gray. Jenkins couldn’t be sure if this was their original state or if they had simply expired. But since their spiritual aura was pitifully weak, it hardly mattered.
He carried the items out of the cabin and took a deep breath of fresh air, finally feeling a sense of relief. The stench inside that building had been truly unbearable.
He slipped the two small bottles into his coat pocket. Holding his breath, he used his knife to slice the rope binding the kraft paper bundle. Then he took several steps back, picked up a nearby branch, and prepared to prod the package open.
Suddenly, he froze, casting a suspicious look at the Treasure Elf, which was still giggling softly as it hovered nearby.
"This isn't the treasure, is it?"
The dreadful possibility dawned on Jenkins, and the hand holding the branch stiffened mid-air.
The Unknown Path was an ability exclusive to his transmigrated soul, and every ti it activated, it yielded demonstrably reliable results. Jenkins hesitated for a long mont, then swallowed hard and used the branch to flick away the severed twine, unfolding the package...
A gust of wind swept through the clearing, rustling the leaves of the forest. The package lay exposed on the grass, its upturned flaps of kraft paper trembling in the breeze, but nothing happened.
He let out a long sigh of relief. After tossing a small stone at the package to confirm it was safe, he slowly approached it again.
The purple thread of fate pointed to a short, rolled-up note. The mont Jenkins picked it up, the thread vanished.
Mr. Clark:
I have hidden myself here as you instructed, awaiting the recomncent of the "Children of the Mist" plan. On October 18th, I believe I may have encountered A-11-02-3219, the Treasure Elf. Mr. C, though I was already prepared to die, I am truly unwilling to perish here.
While listening to the whispers of my Lord, I acquired so strange knowledge. This knowledge may help escape my predicant, but if you co looking for and find no trace, then it ans I have already died. Do not grieve, for my Lord will protect my soul, and a ship will carry to the final Paradise Lost.
Be warned, A-11-02-3219 will manifest at least three tis in a given area before disappearing. If you also encounter this misfortune upon your arrival, you can try my thod. Though it may have been useless for , the grace you have received from our Lord is far stronger. I wish you luck.
May the "Children of the Mist" plan begin again smoothly. May my Lord, the Undying King, bless with eternal life.
Your faithful, W
P.S. If I am indeed dead, the protective ritual I set up here will likely fade quickly. I was unable to create a long-lasting one in such a short ti, so please transfer the data I've left behind imdiately. Do not worry; unless they are favored by fate, no one will be able to find this place. Mr. B, the Reverser of Fate, has already shifted this location's position. Without guidance, no one can reach it.
"A Reverser of Fate? Heh. What a boast."
Jenkins muttered to himself. The temperature around him was dropping rapidly again—a signal from the Treasure Elf for him to leave.
If a believer from the Church of Destiny and Equilibrium heard soone using the title "Reverser of Fate," being hanged would be the kindest fate they could hope for. To openly defy a Righteous God in one's moniker—what kind of nerve did this mortal possess to do such a thing?
He flipped the note over. On the back, W had left his thod for resisting the Treasure Elf:
The Treasure Elf is a strange and terrifying phenonon, a product born from the fusion of the forest's resentnt, soul fragnts, and other, more bizarre substances. A being below level eight has absolutely no hope of confronting the phantom directly, so one can only attempt to dispel the resentnt. This so-called resentnt is the sum of centuries of hatred from innocent people who died in this forest, combined with the forest's own resentnt from the destruction it has suffered. By temporarily driving away the resentnt, you can escape this place for a short ti. Afterward, you must pray for the gaze of a deity. If they rcifully bestow their grace, you can eliminate the mark left on you by A-11-02-3219. As long as you never set foot here again, it will no longer haunt you.
"Dispel the resentnt?"
Jenkins repeated the words. "Couldn't you have been more specific? How am I supposed to dispel the resentnt?!"
He perplexedly read the note again, but there were no further clues. The guidance of fate was over, which ant he had all the information he was going to get. If this was like previous tis, then he should have what he needed to resolve the crisis.
"What have I done recently?"
He considered his actions over the day, but the only thing that seed like a ga-changer was Chocolate returning to the city.
He stood up and instinctively took a step to his left. His vision blurred, the scene before him shifted, and when he looked back, he found himself at least ten feet from where the package lay.
Jenkins stared grimly at the Treasure Elf, then quickly averted his gaze. Its face was now impossible to look at directly. Its supernaturally augnted ugliness now held a bizarre, inexplicable allure.
In that fleeting mont, Jenkins had nearly lost himself to the pull of its eyes, which were like two bottomless wells.
After that, the situation grew even worse. Even when Jenkins sat perfectly still on the ground, the very earth beneath him seed to move, constantly shifting him forward.
It was impossible to tell if it was teleportation or so more mysterious power, but by the fourth ti his position had changed, he could faintly see the wooden cabin through the trees. At the sa ti, a spring appeared in another clearing.
If the hunter's cabin had been built by human hands and gradually rged with the forest environnt, then this spring—with its white marble base and flanking statues of an angel and a demon carved from jade—was clearly sothing that did not belong in this forest.
"This is the treasure?"
Jenkins realized it at once. Listening to the gurgling of the spring water, his heart sank to the lowest possible point.
He couldn't wait for Chocolate. Just one more shift in position, and the mont he touched that spring, he would be dead.
"Purify the resentnt, is it..."
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