After returning to Alexia's residence, she told Jenkins the real reason she had been away from the city for the past two weeks.
Visiting the indigenous people of the ice fields had not been a lie, but it was only part of her purpose. In fact, she had only stayed in their village for a day before continuing much farther north.
"So, what were you really up to?"
Jenkins and Alexia were sitting in chairs before the fireplace. The chairs were plush, but unfortunately, his senses were somewhat dulled in his projected state.
Before their conversation had even begun, she had gone to her bedroom to retrieve a red lacquered wooden box, which she now placed in Jenkins's hands. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ NoveIＦire.net
It was originally a jewelry box; Jenkins had seen one of Alexia's ruby necklaces stored inside it before. But now, it contained a flower bud made of ice. The moment she opened it, a white, frigid mist spilled out, as if someone had placed dry ice inside.
As he spoke, he let the fire drive away the layer of ice that was spreading across his palm with a faint crackle. The ice crystals melted in an instant. The box had clearly been modified to suppress the outflow of cold, but upon opening it, the immense energy inevitably leaked out.
"This is truly a work of art."
Jenkins exclaimed, marveling at the flower bud. He had thought his own Fantasy Flower, which had grown to its penultimate stage, was the most beautiful flower in existence, but now he knew he was wrong.
The object inside the box seemed to possess the power to draw one's gaze, a natural beauty that could never be imitated.
"What is this? A Numbered Item? Or some kind of special plant?"
"A special plant. A Nine-Leaf Ice Crystal Flower."
"I've never heard of it."
He shook his head, brushing aside Chocolate's curious little paw. Judging by the temperature of the flower bud, the moment the cat touched it, it would likely be frozen into a popsicle.
"I'd be surprised if you had. It's an incredibly dangerous plant; there are no records of it appearing in this epoch. It only works once, at the very moment it's caressed by the wind after maturing. The flower's extreme cold will completely merge with that first gust, and that wind will freeze anything it encounters along its path, without exception. If the location and timing were right, one could stand on the continent's west coast, let the wind blow eastward, and freeze half the landmass."
"Wow, that's quite something. Alexia, you're incredibly lucky to have found such a thing."
he marveled, still admiring the intricate structure of the bud. With his naked eye, he could make out faint patterns emerging on its inner surface, though they weren't clear. He imagined they would become fully visible once the flower bloomed.
"No, it wasn't luck. In fact... I planted this flower ten years ago."
She finished, watching Jenkins's expression. He raised an eyebrow. "That's still incredibly lucky. To have this flower grow to this stage in just ten years... I doubt an ordinary person could manage that."
He had initially wanted to warn his friend not to use such a dangerous item for nefarious purposes. But on second thought, doing so would seem like he didn't trust her. Besides, Alexia was fundamentally good-natured, a good person no less than himself. There was no need to state the obvious.
Jenkins's thoughts were easy to read at that moment, which was why the woman posed this silent question to herself.
The hunting party would be setting out tomorrow morning and officially arriving at the hunting grounds in the afternoon. Jenkins planned to check in tomorrow evening after his night class and combat lessons. It would be late, but the girls had promised to wait for him.
"That's not ours. Don't touch it."
He warned the curious Chocolate one more time before taking it back to Nolan.
Jenkins had only recently noticed that ever since he had used the young flower seller's fertilizer to grow his Fantasy Flower to its current stage, Chocolate seemed to understand its value and had lost interest in the seeds in the church garden.
Though it would still occasionally stroll about as if patrolling its territory, it clearly no longer lounged beside the seeds for no reason as it used to.
Jenkins interpreted this as Chocolate being fickle, having grown bored of those once-interesting seeds. As a young cat, it would have been strange for it to remain interested in any one thing for a long time.
Just like on Wednesday morning, Chocolate had been scratching at the last remaining silver metal block as usual, but in the blink of an eye, it had fished the hand of the Bestowal Clock out of Jenkins's overcoat pocket and was now using it to desperately strike the block.
He had been carrying the clock hand with him, intending to ask Alexia what it could be used for, but with so much to discuss yesterday, he had forgotten. He never expected the cat to be interested in such a thing, but to prevent either the hand or the metal block from being damaged, he snatched them back from under its paws.
The investigation into last night's incident had made no progress. The church, despite all its methods, couldn't trace the specific origin of the undead creatures. However, this very dead end led the church to finally notice the undead sightings that had been occurring around the city for the past two months.
For now, there was no evidence to prove a connection between the two matters, but since both involved undead that shouldn't have been in the city, they were bound to get to the bottom of it eventually.
Pops blamed yesterday evening's events on Jenkins's reckless actions. If he hadn't followed that skeleton, none of what happened later would have occurred.
He once again emphasized the importance of safety and hoped that in the future, Jenkins wouldn't be as curious as a cat.
The drowsy Chocolate seemed to hear someone mention it, lifting its head to look around. Seeing the two men still talking, it lay back down again.
A brief period of peace and tranquility settled over the city, which also meant that the probability of Jenkins encountering an accident in his daily life was greatly reduced.
Due to the incident on Tuesday evening, Jenkins had stayed the night at the church. This meant he couldn't return to St. George Avenue to retrieve the letters from his mailbox until around noon on Wednesday.
He left the usual reader mail at home, tucked the other letters into the large outer pocket of his overcoat, and began to read them as he walked.
Strolling through the bustling, smog-filled winter streets, pedestrians and carriages flowed past him. Steam pipes on the walls gleamed in the faint sunlight. And as the young man held his letter, his brow gradually furrowed.