"So we just missed each other?"
In a matter of seconds, countless clues raced through Jenkins's mind. The culprit he thought had nothing to do with him was actually connected to him from long ago. The man from his winter journey... his source of power had been the temporary keeper of the cetery he visited in the autumn.
"Alright then, let's see just who this Skryu Pomphey really is!"
"Is sothing wrong?"
Seeing Jenkins staring blankly, the cetery keeper asked in surprise.
"This handwriting looks very familiar. I think the person you know might be soone I know as well... Do you know where this Pomphey fellow is now? I heard he left Shire a while ago, but he never ca to visit ."
"Oh, yes. I heard he went to Nolan, apparently to receive a shipnt. His father did ntion it the last ti we spoke."
Even though it was nearly evening, Jenkins didn't rest after leaving the cetery. He organized what he knew, omitting sensitive details like his visit last autumn, and directly reported the information regarding the biological experint data to the local church.
Afterward, the Orthodox Church of Shire City descended in full force, surrounding the small house belonging to Skryu Pomphey's parents. But upon breaking in, they discovered that every living creature inside—including Pomphey's parents, his cousin, two servants, and a pet dog—were all living corpses.
This indicated that Pomphey's research was focused not on biological mutation and atavism, but on necromancy.
A vast number of human skeletons were found in the house's basent, along with two caged and maddened "ingredients." Deeper still, they discovered an underground laboratory that connected the entire street. A fierce battle erupted between dozens of high-level undead guarding the lab and the Church's Enchanters, amidst a large collection of necromantic research materials.
Half an hour later, the entire street was cordoned off. It appeared that most of the residents had suffered a fate similar to the Pomphey family—all had been turned into living corpses.
In the bedroom of Pomphey's parents, a heavily scribbled-on notebook was found. Its contents revealed an alias frequently used by Skryu Pomphey—Wilkavan.
"Hm?"
When Jenkins heard the news, for a mont he thought the middle-aged man in front of him was joking.
"The research notes the doctor from the snowstorm manor found... they originally belonged to the wielder of the Skull Sword?"
Based on these findings, the true na of the wielder of the Skull Sword, [Provence Lucal] or rather [Wilkavan], had to be Skryu Pomphey.
Soti before the autumn of two years ago, this young man had obtained that terrible sword. On one of his returns to Shire, he rented an apartnt in the city. The landlord stole his belongings, took the valuables, and hid the rest of the bundle inside a wall—it was highly likely the landlord never even bothered to look through the worthless books.
Then, in the autumn of two years ago, those hidden items were found by a doctor nad Bray Decter, who was in Shire visiting a friend. That was how the doctor began his own journey into the extraordinary. He hid himself deep in the mountains to conduct illegal research on bloodlines and necromancy, until he had the misfortune of running into Jenkins this past winter.
anwhile, last autumn, Skryu Pomphey returned to Shire City as usual. While looking after the cetery for an old acquaintance, he had a close brush with Jenkins, who was "visiting" the cetery late at night.
"Is this... fate? The doctor's research notes were actually connected to the Skull Sword? And I ca within a hundred feet of it?"
The incident in Shire was triggered by an ancient bloodline awakening in Nolan. The subsequent investigation connected this event to the doctor's research, and further inquiries linked the doctor to the Skull Sword.
In other words, the bloodline awakening in Nolan was very likely caused by the wielder of the Skull Sword, the thirty-three-year-old [Skryu Pomphey].
When connected like this, everything made sense.
"The old cetery keeper said Pomphey went to Nolan to receive a shipnt. Could that shipnt be the item from his deal with Duke Antak?"
The more he thought about it, the more terrifying it beca. All the clues had been right there, around him, yet he was only now grasping the full truth.
Old Jack heard the story from Jenkins in the evening. He was stirring a solution at the ti, and by the ti Jenkins finished, the liquid in the flask had been stirred to the point of being completely ruined.
The old man's beard was dripping wet, but he paid no mind to the splattered liquid that had soaked it.
"I just told you to take a walk, and you... A-12-1-0044, [the Cursed Sword of the Departed Soul]... Now I think I understand what Oliver ant."
His eyes widened as he realized for the first ti just how terrifying Jenkins's talent for attracting trouble truly was.
Starting tonight, a curfew was officially imposed on Shire City. The local Church of Knowledge and Books had already notified the other churches. To prevent the corpses and undead on that street from causing a plague, City Hall declared that more than half the district was now under a temporary state of war.
Jenkins didn't quite understand what a "temporary state of war" ant, as the original owner of his body had never experienced such a thing. According to Old Jack, it simply ant that shops would close, schools would be out, travel would be restricted during the day, and a strict curfew would be enforced at night.
This was the first ti Shire City had faced such a situation since the end of the continental war. No one was prepared. Even though the local diocese had heard about the terrible events unfolding in Nolan, thousands of miles away, they never could have imagined that the root of it all was right here in Shire.
Even though the Skull Sword and its wielder were clearly no longer in the city, the local diocese still faced an unprecedented challenge. Jenkins felt incredibly guilty about this. If he hadn't co here, the city wouldn't be in this ss.
"But even if I hadn't co to Shire and discovered what was happening here, the fact that Skryu Pomphey's base of operations is in this city would remain unchanged."
Once he ca to this realization, Jenkins felt much better. He lay on the bed in the guest room above Old Jack's shop, watching the flickering lights outside, knowing that for many people, tonight would be a sleepless one.
The Shire diocese must have finally rembered the warning in the letter from Miss Bevanna in Nolan, sent before Jenkins's arrival. They politely asked him to rest and not get involved in what ca next, promising to notify him imdiately if anything changed. Jenkins was happy to have the downti. Though the curfew prevented him from going out, he still had things he could do.
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