"The Sage truly watches over us!"
The thought of finally being free of that troublesome affair made him sigh in admiration.
"Indeed, a true blessing from the Sage. The operation in Eldron was originally scheduled for March, and our preparations were far from complete. A series of unexpected events forced us to move up the timeline, yet it all went remarkably smoothly. The Orthodox Church didn't lose a single person! There wasn't even any organized resistance!"
Miss Bevanna seemed to be in exceptionally high spirits, a fact not even the lingering scars on her right arm could diminish.
"Could it be a trick? I know the followers of the Prince of Lies are masters of deception."
"No. By the time the Nolan diocese received the news, it was all over. There was no trickery. This was a genuine victory for us."
As she spoke, Miss Bevanna gestured for Jenkins to look at the documents on her desk—the official after-action report on Eldron from the Holy See.
"What's more, the Church discovered a trove of data related to Nolan City in the house on Green Avenue. It was encrypted, but we've already cracked it and learned a great deal about the Evil God's Child incident. Jenkins, it's as if the Sage and the other Righteous Gods are watching over us. The diocese had hardly done anything, yet we already have the full picture. It's incredible. The only slight regret is that those cultists should have possessed a vast fortune, all of it ill-gotten. But we didn't find any of it at the Green Avenue location..."
The report in Jenkins's hands detailed the entire timeline of the Evil God's Child incident. It all began three hundred years ago with a certain Cursed Item. An unusually active heretical cult on the continent had used this item to learn of the coming end of the Epoch. Although they were wiped out by the Orthodox Church before they could act, the news still managed to leak out.
"...What is the Savior's Emblem?"
Jenkins asked, feigning confusion. He reminded himself that his "original self" had never heard the term.
"You can think of it as a unique status."
Miss Bevanna answered vaguely.
He nodded, pretending not to be concerned. The information the Church had obtained contained nearly every detail of the plan to create a physical body for the divine child, except for the method by which it would acquire the Savior's Emblem after the plan's success.
The ritual sacrifice in New Truman was already part of the plan's middle-to-late stages. The decision to use the house next to Jenkins's as the site for the child's birth had been made over a century ago.
Looking deeper, even the current length and layout of St. George Avenue were deeply connected to this group's activities. Their plan, despite a few minor setbacks, had proceeded smoothly until Jenkins, out of curiosity, mistakenly used the Ouija board. Otherwise, no one would have even known about the terrible event slated to occur on St. George Avenue just a few months later.
"We will use this information to arrest everyone involved. And the Sage himself will personally deal with the divine child currently absorbing the mist. When that happens, this will all be over."
Miss Bevanna said with an air of relief. She had been under a great deal of pressure lately.
"Will it definitely be the Sage who descends? I heard other churches in Nolan were also planning a divine descent."
He asked, still clinging to a sliver of hope.
"No, that was just a smokescreen. Everything has already been decided. You don't need to worry, Jenkins."
"No," he thought grimly, "that's precisely why I'm so worried."
But even if he was worried sick, he couldn't find a plausible reason to get away from Nolan anytime soon. In truth, there were certain numbered items or exotic creatures that could cause unexpected spatial transfers—like A-07-2-3222, the "Twisted Alley," or the Lost Butterfly—but it seemed Jenkins's recent streak of bad luck had finally run out.
The afternoon's public lecture was scheduled to take place at the Noland First Higher Academy, where the professor who had invited him taught. Because students from other schools and the general public were permitted to attend, the organizers had chosen the largest lecture hall on campus. Even so, many people were left clinging to the windows outside, just to listen in.
Jenkins met up with the professor an hour early and already found the academy grounds to be exceptionally bustling. While he was chatting with Mr. Stephen Glees, the president of the University Association, a commotion broke out at the school gates, which were choked with a massive traffic jam of carriages.
When he reached the entrance to the lecture hall, the people waiting in the corridor erupted in cheers. They spontaneously parted to form a path for Jenkins, who clutched his notebook under his arm, as voices from the crowd continuously called out his name.
The entire lecture hall was packed to capacity; even the aisles between desks and the open area at the back of the room were filled with people standing shoulder to shoulder. Everyone was waving and shouting at Jenkins, hoping to be noticed by the young nobleman and author, but the sheer density of the crowd was already making him uncomfortable.
It wasn't just young students, either. Children, women, middle-aged men, and even elderly gentlemen in wigs could be seen in the audience below the stage.
Although it had been announced that the lecture would only cover literary topics, this did nothing to dampen the public's enthusiasm to see Jenkins Williams in person.
Amid the cheers, Jenkins, clutching his lecture notes, walked somewhat stiffly onto the stage. Updates are released by noveⅼfire.net
He arranged his papers neatly on one side of the lectern, then produced a cat from his coat and set it down on the other. No matter what he did, the crowd erupted in wave after wave of applause.
Lifting his head, he looked out at the sea of faces staring up at him, all eager to hear what the handsome young author had to say.
"Good afternoon. I never expected so many people to show up. I think perhaps we should have booked a classroom the size of the town square."
A ripple of laughter spread through the audience. Miss Stuart had once told him that for a public speech, it was good to deliberately open with a bit of humor. Of course, that was absolutely forbidden on more solemn occasions.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Williams!"
"It's wonderful to see you, Mr. Williams!"
Such greetings could be heard above the general din, and outside the windows, some people were even waving their hats at Jenkins in salute.
"Please, quiet down."
He smiled at the crowd and raised both hands, pressing them down in a calming gesture. Though a few scattered voices still piped up intermittently, most of the audience did indeed fall silent.