Duke Antak's hiding place, of all places, was the grand clock tower next to the city square. Stretched out on a distant rooftop, Jenkins gazed at the mist-shrouded structure, stunned that the duke would choose such a conspicuous location.
"If I just used Twin Demons to blast the base of the tower," Jenkins mused, "I could bring the whole landmark down. As long as Duke Antak can't fly, he'd be hard-pressed to survive."
It was an excellent idea, certainly. The only problem was that from that mont on, the "Believers of the God of Lies" would graduate from being "suspected cultists" to "actual, bona fide cultists."
Besides, Nolan's demigods were out in full force, searching for any trace of Pomphey. Making a huge commotion and drawing their attention would be disastrous.
Ptooey.
A cold wind blew grit into Jenkins's mouth. He spat, rudely leaving a glob of saliva on soone else's rooftop. Clumsily, he scrambled down a steam pipe to the street below and scratched his head. A direct assault could still work, he reasoned, but it was far too dangerous. He couldn't afford to burn through all his spirit on his [Undying Man] ability here.
Jenkins glanced up, catching the occasional silhouette of an ordinary person in the tower's windows, and considered how to deal with them. Duke Antak must have stationed all his n here; even the nearby alleys showed signs of lookouts.
Fortunately, they were only ard with small-caliber guns. A direct assault was already a long shot, but if the duke had managed to contact local arms smugglers for more powerful firearms, Jenkins would be facing a much bigger problem.
Suddenly, a thought struck him, an interesting question:
"Why weren't the duke's n unconscious?"
The mont he considered this, Jenkins grew more certain than ever. The one who had activated A-06-1-6269, [Goodnight, My Child], had to be Pomphey.
His goal was most likely to neutralize any interference from ordinary people. Following that logic, once he succeeded in summoning his army of the dead, Nolan—with its less than a thousand Enchanters—would almost certainly fall.
Even ordinary people trained by the Church could harm the undead using holy water, blessed items, and firearms. Pomphey must have realized that after the last major battle in the cetery.
"I need to move faster," he thought.
Jenkins held onto his hat as a gust of wind swept down the street. It did nothing to scatter the fog, but it billowed his coat. He stood there for a long mont, hesitating, before his form slowly faded, vanishing into the eerie, silent mist.
"ow~"
As the man beneath the tree rose to his feet, the cat greeted him instantly. It seed to be a signal. The calls of various other animals began to echo through the woods, but intimidated by the presence of the formidable feline, only Chocolate dared to approach for a pat from Jenkins.
Jenkins straightened his clothes, trying to brush away the clinging scent of the city's fog.
Once he was satisfied, he left the clearing beneath the giant tree and made his way to the edge of the forest, where he found Captain Bincy hard at work.
The captain was discussing defensive asures for the Evergreen Forest with guard patrols from the other churches. Word had already reached the forest that Pomphey was raiding church facilities and stealing numbered items, and the Evergreen Forest happened to house a particularly large collection of artifacts related to the undead.
"Ah, you're awake," Bincy said, looking up. "I saw you'd nodded off, so I didn't want to disturb you. You must be exhausted. I heard about what you accomplished in Shire City. It couldn't have been easy."
It hadn't been taxing at all, he thought. The only difficult part had been the sheer effort of digging up and prying open that coffin.
"Captain Bincy, I was wondering," Jenkins began, "is there any way to wake the people who've fallen asleep before A-06-1-6269, [Goodnight, My Child], is deactivated? It's just... it's heartbreaking to see the children lying there like that."
As he spoke, he forced himself to recall the image of Fini collapsing, and a genuine look of sorrow surfaced on his face.
"Of course there is."
Captain Bincy nodded, handing the notebook he was holding to a man beside him.
"Word from headquarters is that it's not a matter of us being unwilling to deactivate A-06-1-6269. Pomphey used so special ans to erase the deactivation thod itself. It'll take hours to crack it. Hmph. He certainly ca prepared. But at its core, the power of A-06-1-6269 is just a unique curse. And the simplest way to break a curse... well, isn't it right over there?"
As he spoke, he pointed toward the giant tree. It took Jenkins a mont to understand.
"The all-purpose potion?"
"Exactly. That potion has a powerful healing effect on diseases and most curses."
"Oh."
Jenkins's face lit up with understanding, but then Captain Bincy added,
"I'm sorry, Jenkins. We can't use the potion to save the children just yet. As you know, that precious liquid is a non-renewable resource..."
Jenkins understood, of course. Waking the children now would require diverting personnel to watch over them, which would hinder their defensive preparations.
He didn't bring it up again. Instead, he casually ntioned that he was thinking of heading back into the city to check on things. Captain Bincy imdiately shot the idea down, reminding him that both Papa Oliver and Miss Bevanna insisted he remain in the forest until the crisis was resolved.
"Fine, then..."
Jenkins said with a hint of disappointnt. Lowering his head, he turned to lead the animals that had followed him back toward the great tree.
"I guess I'll just have to sleep to pass the ti."
He brushed aside a low-hanging branch. A squirrel perched on it leaped down and joined the procession of animals trailing behind him.
"Go get so rest," Captain Bincy assured him. "No one will bother you."
He gave a final nod.
Surrounded by his animal entourage, Jenkins returned to the base of the tree. The area was deserted; everyone else had important work to attend to.
Seizing the opportunity, Jenkins used Psychography to conjure a simple, sealed container. Shielded from view by the animals, he collected so of the potent liquid from the tree, then returned to Nolan the sa way he had before.
He didn't imdiately assault the heavily guarded clock tower. Instead, he made his way three blocks over to a small building with a sign that read: "Schuper Freight Company."
Jenkins lted the lock with a touch of fire and stepped inside. He found a middle-aged receptionist slumped unconscious over the front desk. Taking a fountain pen from the desk, Jenkins dipped its nib into the container he'd brought, then gently placed the tip in the man's mouth. The effect was imdiate. The man stirred, blinked awake, and beca aware of the object between his lips.
"I need your help."
On his right thumb, Jenkins wore an ice-blue gemstone ring—a gift from Miss Stuart.
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