"This is the antidote. How long will you need to gather your n?"
As the middle-aged man looked up, Jenkins set the container, which looked like an old tin can, down on the table.
"Oh..."
The man was just coming to, still disoriented. But he recognized the ring and understood its significance.
"The people outside... are they all unconscious, too?"
He imdiately grasped the crux of the situation.
"Only the ordinary people are unconscious. I'm sure you understand what that implies."
"Good. Honored sir, please give five minutes. With no one to get in our way, gathering my n will be much quicker."
The man gave Jenkins a respectful bow before departing to assemble his forces. He was faster than anticipated. Though the number of n he could rally was small, their weaponry was remarkably high-quality.
In an alley near the clock tower, Jenkins laid out the situation in simple terms before stressing a final point:
"Your job is to create a diversion on the periter. Don't take any unnecessary risks. And rember, the mont you notice a change in the weather, or see any abnormal explosions or flashes of light, get out imdiately. Leave no trace."
"Understood, sir. I'll rember that."
Ten minutes later, a scene straight out of a war zone erupted in the alleys and main streets near the city square.
Gunn seemingly materialized from thin air, clashing with gangsters who had appeared just as mysteriously. The first gunshot was followed by a staccato chorus of others, like a violent firework display. Steam bombs were tossed indiscriminately, and the air filled with screams and shouts.
The sight of bullets crisscrossing the streets was a rarity in Nolan, a city renowned for its peace and tranquility. But tragically, there was no one awake to witness this low-intensity war zone.
Jenkins had already seized the gap in the guard's defense to ascend the clock tower. Facing ten guns simultaneously would be a challenge, but he could just about manage two.
The ordinary staff inside were no match for him, and it seed all of Duke Antak's Enchanter bodyguards had perished in the previous night's incident.
In any case, his Eye of Reality saw no one who could stand in his way. When he reached the top of the clock tower, he found the duke alone.
The duke was a horrifying sight. He was subrged inside a transparent coffin, which hung suspended in the center of the platform by eight thick iron chains anchored to the walls. The coffin was filled with a murky, translucent gray fluid, in which countless tiny insects writhed, swarming over the duke’s body in an intimate, grotesque embrace.
A massive ritual was in progress, centered on the coffin. Mummified corpses were positioned at key nodes of a complex array on the floor. To Jenkins's eyes, the ritual's purpose was clear: it was gathering spirit from the air, funneling energy to the duke so he could power his maze lock.
Such a crude and brutal thod would undoubtedly inflict permanent damage on both body and soul. Jenkins didn't know if the duke had been forced into this or had chosen it willingly, but it didn't matter.
He stood his ground, his expression cold as a black, shadowy figure materialized behind him and let out a savage laugh.
"Twin Demons?"
Subrged in the fluid, Duke Antak's eyes snapped open. A muffled voice emanated from within the transparent coffin. Jenkins couldn't help but wonder how the man was managing not to drown.
"You know ?"
Jenkins was currently disguised in his black robe.
"No, but I've heard of you," the duke's voice rumbled. "A follower of the God of Lies. You people truly are everywhere."
Jenkins had no desire to chat. He could end this right now by simply blowing the man to bits. Wasting ti on conversation would be utterly foolish.
"So it's true," the duke continued. "You're after the Savior's Emblem. That's why you've co after ti and ti again..."
"Hmm?"
Jenkins was bewildered. This was the first he'd heard anything about a Savior's Emblem since the 'Real Illusion' incident.
"No, that's not right," he thought. "I rember now. The self-destructing puppet ntioned sothing about it. It said that one of this epoch's Savior's Emblems was... the 'Destiny's Stage'?"
In the modern tongue, 'Destiny's Stage' wasn't just a simple combination of the words 'destiny' and 'stage'; it was a proper term.
The term had originated with playwrights to describe the theater and its narratives, but it had since evolved into a common expression used to refer to any event or story filled with high drama.
Taken at face value, the phrase was innocuous. But considering its origins, it was inextricably linked to the 'Stage'.
"'The Stage' maze lock... 'Destiny's Stage'..."
It was as if sothing clicked into place for Jenkins. He suddenly recalled Alexia's cryptic words:
"A Savior's Emblem isn't necessarily ford from a single ability."
"The Savior's Emblem, 'Destiny's Stage,' corresponds to a chain of abilities!"
The realization struck him like lightning. All the incidents he had endured throughout February suddenly beca crystal clear, as if the fog had finally lifted. He felt he had grasped sothing profound, yet at the sa ti, he understood nothing at all.
His insights from these recent events, even his philosophical discussions with friends about the 'nature of the stage,' weren't enough for him to acquire such a complex chain of abilities. Besides, there was a vast gulf between the 'Stage' and the 'Destiny's Stage.' Hathaway had told him that only destiny itself could truly bring that power into being.
"Duke Antak can't be a Savior candidate, not yet," Jenkins reasoned. "He hasn't touched destiny! What he possesses is the 'Stage,' not the 'Destiny's Stage.' He's just another person chasing after an emblem!"
He had no proof, but Jenkins was absolutely certain. His mind raced, a thousand thoughts spinning in just a few seconds, but the duke's words had undeniably provided the spark.
"Excellent. Once I'm done with the Skull Sword affair, I'll have to put 'Destiny's Stage' on my agenda. Hmm? But does that count as actively pursuing it?"
Whether his own actions counted or not, Duke Antak was certainly actively gathering the abilities that composed the maze lock. As Jenkins mulled this over, the duke began to speak loudly about the great difficulty he'd faced in acquiring the 'Stage' maze lock. It was an obvious ploy to stall for ti, but Jenkins found himself wanting to hear the story.
"The ancient tos of my family spoke of it, and a friend reminded what a golden opportunity this was. A Savior! A chance that cos once in millennia, and one of the keys to that power was lying dormant on a stone tablet in my own family library!"
Jenkins suspected this 'friend' was a mber of the Tree House, but he couldn't understand why they hadn't shown up yet. Perhaps the duke's stalling was to wait for their arrival. Then another thought struck Jenkins: could Pomphey be the one from the Tree House?
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