Although the clown’s reflection had appeared unexpectedly with useful information, the four of them still faced a daunting predicant.
“It looks like our only option is to pass through every mirror we find,” the huntress said. “We have to locate so trace of the Church before we’re killed by monsters or so other vile creatures.”
The huntress sounded pessimistic. As she spoke, she traced the holy symbol of the God of War on her chest. The emblem of the Righteous God, the Lord of War, traditionally symbolized victory and triumph, and his followers would make the sign before a duel or a critical decision, praying for divine protection.
“Speaking of which, what kind of mirror should we choose to travel through? I think we need to be careful with this decision.”
Miss Knight asked softly, picking up a piece of cake from the table as she spoke. Her pupils were still vertical slits, like those of a dragon—an apparent side effect of using her powers, though she hadn't bothered to explain it to her companions.
It seed the young descendant of a dragon rider family had genuinely reawakened so of her ancestral power by communicating with dragons. The thought reminded Jenkins of Pomphey's bloodline awakening potions, and he suddenly grew curious about the thod Miss Knight had used.
“Perhaps this will help uncover the secrets of the Williams family.”
But that was a question for after they returned to the material world. For now, the priority was to escape this place.
“Let’s find a large, full-length mirror first. Since shattering it creates a portal, I want to make sure the passage is big enough for us.”
Jenkins said, pointing to the opposite wall. “The shop next door should have a full-length mirror. I think I can bring it over here; it doesn't look too heavy... But let’s rest for the night before we set off. The clown said we might encounter reflections of people we know during the transit, which ans we still have to be prepared for a fight.”
Everyone was exhausted after the day's ordeal, so no one objected to Jenkins's proposal. They worked out a schedule for the night watch and settled down to sleep. The coffee shop seats were soft enough, and they'd managed to grab so cotton clothes from the shop next door to use as blankets.
The night passed without incident. After waking and eating breakfast, the four of them stood about three feet back from the mirror as Jenkins threw a cup, shattering the full-length mirror from the clothing store.
With a sharp crack, shards of glass clattered to the floor. A black void appeared within the mirror fra, its entrance seeming to tug at them with a faint pull, beckoning them to enter.
“We should be prepared to be separated.”
Miss Capet warned before they stepped through. After a night of rest, she still looked pale, but she was at least doing much better than the previous evening.
“She's right, that's a real possibility. If we get separated, let's rendezvous at the central clock tower. We'll wait until midnight. If the others haven't shown up by then, we're on our own to find a way out.”
The huntress proposed. Seeing no objections, she gave a flick of her hair and beca the first to step into the black void within the fra.
Jenkins went second, carrying Chocolate. He held the cat tightly, hoping they wouldn't be separated, but it was no use. The mont his foot crossed the threshold, it felt like he had stepped off a cliff.
He didn't even have ti to shout before he and the cat vanished into the pitch-black void. The sensation of falling and weightlessness faded, and he found his feet on solid ground. The landing was so smooth his shoes made no sound, but the cat he'd been holding was gone.
The ti in this new mirror world seed to be the sa as the last. He found himself on a pier in the Nolan City Docklands. Behind him, the city lay shrouded in a thick fog, the silhouettes of its uneven buildings barely visible. Before him stretched the endless sea. The poor visibility made the ocean seem terrifying, and Jenkins felt as if a bottomless abyss lay in its depths, hiding so monstrous creature that was watching him.
He sighed and turned around, only to see Pops standing at the entrance to the pier, watching him with a blank expression. It was undeniably Pops' face, but his body was frail as a matchstick. He had to lean on a cane just to stay upright, and his hunched back made him seem a third shorter than normal.
This was clearly Pops' reflection from the mirror world. The real Pops would never be here at this ti, let alone so aged and frail. But Jenkins couldn't understand why Pops' “other side” would manifest this way. According to the pattern the three won had deduced, the reflections in this world were supposed to embody the deepest desires of their real-world counterparts...
“The red-haired clown was completely unchanged, probably because he killed his real self. But for Pops to be this decrepit... Does he desire to grow old? Why? Or is the conclusion Miss Capet and the others reached flawed?”
Jenkins frowned, unable to make sense of it. The version of Pops before him was clearly at the very edge of frailty; Jenkins could barely sense any life force from him. That was a good thing, he supposed. At least it ant he wouldn't be much of a fighter.
“This is Pops' reflection, not the real Pops.”
Jenkins reminded himself, then drew the White Bone Holy Sword, intending to finish the reflection off and perhaps learn so of Pops' secrets in the process. But before he could even swing the blade, he heard the old man let out a single cough.
“Cough...”
It was an ordinary sound, yet the imnse energy it contained was almost visible to the naked eye. The radiating spirit created a strange, shimring ripple in the air, and a mont later, everything the ripple touched exploded.
Sound vibrations triggering energy vibrations to directly destroy matter. In theory, it was perfectly achievable—at least, Jenkins in his divine state and most void abominations were capable of such a feat.
But for a mortal to wield such power, the required skill and sheer amount of spirit were almost unimaginable. Yet, the old man before him had clearly achieved it.
The sea before the beach erupted violently. The wooden pier was obliterated, leaving not even splinters behind. When the smoke and spray cleared, a massive black crater was briefly visible on the beach before the returning tide swallowed it whole.
Viewed from above, Nolan City’s once-straight coastline now had a massive, curved indentation gouged into it—a new feature carved out by the explosion monts ago.
The old man on the beach watched everything unfold in silence, letting the misty spray dampen his clothes and hair. A lone crab that had survived the blast scurried sideways at his feet, its tracks quickly vanishing as the fog rolled back in.
The sea grew calm again. The young man had vanished completely. A sea breeze carried the damp air and the fog so characteristic of Nolan, as the surging tide slowly soaked the sand.
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