It was a tumultuous and dangerous night. Around eight o'clock, the Church of Death and End, an organization that rarely mobilized on such a large scale, surrounded and completely took control of Nolan Public Hospital No. 3.
Just as Jenkins had suspected, there was no trace of Lucal to be found within the heavily cordoned-off hospital. Nevertheless, the entire facility was indefinitely sealed under the pretext of a "sudden and severe infectious disease outbreak," with no one permitted to enter or leave.
This ti, the Church of Death and End was truly enraged. An entire Gravedigger Squad had been wiped out—an event unprecedented in the history of the Nolan diocese. What made it worse was that their enemy was also an Enchanter, one who wielded the power of death.
A demigod from the Church of Death personally visited the church that night to inquire about what had transpired. The middle-aged man, with salt-and-pepper hair but eyes that shone with an unnatural intensity, thanked everyone in Captain Swift's squad, as well as Jenkins and Papa Oliver. He gave special thanks to Jenkins, noting that if not for his "foresight" into the events, they might never have even known the killer's identity.
After the polite expressions of gratitude, the man known as Mr. Davies held a private, half-hour discussion with Miss Audrey. His expression was terrifyingly grim when he left. Jenkins watched him walk to the church doors, where the man turned and dissolved into a wisp of gray smoke that shot up toward the cloud-shrouded night sky.
"I caught a whiff of... the stench of a corpse."
Jenkins only dared to mutter the complaint once he was certain the man was gone.
"That's to be expected," Papa Oliver explained from nearby. "Davies chose a rather unusual path, but he did, in fact, succeed."
The old man rose from a pew and gave Jenkins a wave.
"I'm heading behind the Gate of All Things to check on sothing. I know you're going to find Audrey to ask what's going on, but rember..."
"I'll stay out of danger," he promised.
"Don't make promises to . Think of Robert and Mary. Think of Hathaway and Briny."
Papa Oliver had already turned as he spoke, and by the ti his words faded, he was already disappearing down a back corridor, giving Jenkins no chance to argue.
"I know!"
Jenkins still replied softly, even though Papa Oliver was likely out of earshot. He didn't shout because they were in the main nave of the church, a solemn place where raising one's voice was forbidden.
He crossed a courtyard and made his way through several corridors. It seed Miss Bevanna had been expecting him; she was waiting in her office when he arrived.
When Jenkins knocked and entered, he found her sorting through a stack of papers. They weren't related to the incident at the hospital—it was far too recent for that—but were instead docunts concerning recent rumors of the undead appearing in Nolan City.
"This incident..."
"I'm afraid Nolan City is in for so serious trouble."
Miss Bevanna looked up at Jenkins, her face frad by a pair of elegant spectacles he had never seen her wear before.
She seed sowhat lancholic. She gestured for Jenkins to take a seat before continuing.
"Based on our preliminary investigation, all the identification information left behind by the man you encountered, Provence Lucal, is fake. We searched his temporary lodgings at Nolan Public Hospital No. 3 but found nothing of value. We don't know if his claim of being from Shire City was also a lie, but our counterparts there have already begun their own investigation."
"But what is this 'serious trouble,' Miss Bevanna?" Jenkins asked. "I still don't fully grasp what happened this evening. He was just one Enchanter with unusual necromantic abilities..."
His downplaying of the threat stemd from Provence Lucal's relatively low level, though Jenkins knew better than to judge an Enchanter's strength by rank alone. He was simply trying to phrase his questions about the evening's events tactfully.
"I've examined the undead you destroyed," she explained. "The Enchanter who raised them possesses an extraordinary talent for necromancy—even Mr. Davies agrees. This has led us to so rather disturbing conclusions, though for now, they remain speculation. After all, there is more than one Cursed Item capable of reanimating the dead on a massive scale. But regardless of which one has resurfaced, it poses a lethal threat to a city this populous..."
Alexia had said much the sa thing, but she, too, had been unable to determine precisely which Cursed Item had appeared in Nolan.
The evening's incident was like a ticking steam bomb tossed into the already choppy waters of Nolan's supernatural community. Word seed to spread in an instant. Fearing they would be caught in the fallout, unregistered Enchanters began to go into hiding, and so even fled the city.
In the mortal world, the incident had a shocking repercussion: for the first ti in two centuries, the Sage Church's Inquisition was mobilized.
The next day's papers made no ntion of it, but as Jenkins sat at the breakfast table, he could overhear the clergyn nearby discussing the news.
He hadn't gone ho the previous night, having stayed at the church instead. Now, still in his pajamas and cradling his cat, he sat drowsily at the table while a nun brought his food.
He hadn't even realized he'd wandered out in his sleepwear, and when he finally did, he saw that no one seed to mind in the slightest.
"I'll go change at once."
He said apologetically to Bishop Parrold, who was sitting nearby, then strode out of the dining hall, his face flushing with embarrassnt.
"Mrow."
Since he would be right back, Jenkins hadn't taken Chocolate with him. The cat let out a disgruntled ow. Seeing its master disappear through the doorway, it finally turned its attention to the plate of breakfast.
"Nice pajamas."
The old Keeper of Secrets—Mr. Smith—joked as they passed each other in the hall. They had already exchanged greetings and were about to go their separate ways, but just as Jenkins rounded a corner, Mr. Smith hurried to catch up.
"Ah, Jenkins, since I've run into you, I might as well tell you this directly. It concerns you sowhat, and I think you'll find it interesting."
"Please, go on."
He had no idea what Mr. Smith could be referring to.
"Do you rember that poor woman? The one who... ate the man. The one who beca a mantis, that's her."
Jenkins rembered, of course. The incident had indirectly allowed an eloping couple to achieve their goal, forcing him to forge letters to prove that a certain Garcia and Miss Rick had safely reached the Kingdom of Cheslan.
"Our initial conclusion was that her bloodline awakening was an uncontrollable, natural phenonon—an accident with an extrely low probability of occurring."
"However, further investigation suggests that conclusion was likely wrong. We used an Extraordinary item from behind the Gate of All Things—B-02-2-9913, the Apothecary's Log of Accidents—and discovered that two months prior, the woman had consud so kind of potion whose na the log could not display. The Church is currently analyzing her blood samples, hoping to find more clues."
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