"That wasn't difficult. I was already prepared for anything unexpected."
They were still at the hunting grounds outside Ruen. After handing the terrified young man over to Miss Stuart’s servants, Jenkins and Alexia walked back to camp, talking and laughing as if returning from a pleasant hike.
Everyone in Miss Stuart's retinue, including the recorder, was completely trustworthy, so Jenkins had no reason to worry that his presence would arouse suspicion.
"What could have possibly gone wrong? They were just ordinary people," Alexia remarked. "Jenkins, you're a level four Enchanter now. That's considered an exceptionally high rank among our kind. Some people strive their entire lives and never even glimpse such heights. You've just advanced so quickly that you haven't yet adjusted to your new status as one of the powerful."
Jenkins echoed the word, reaching out and bending to push aside a dry, jutting branch from Alexia's path.
"Perhaps I really haven't adjusted," he admitted.
He had gone from being an ordinary person to this level of power in a mere six months. Though he understood the abilities he now commanded, he still subconsciously saw himself as just a regular person.
But that had its advantages. At least he wasn't about to self-destruct from an overinflated ego.
The host of the camp was delighted by Jenkins's arrival. Even though he couldn't partake in a full meal in his current state, she still invited him to join them for dinner by the bonfire.
It took only half an hour for the sky to turn completely dark. Nightfall brought a deeper chill to the air, but it was still warm enough sitting around the fire. Miss Stuart instructed the servants to keep their distance, leaving only Julia to attend to them.
It felt like another one of their four-person gatherings, just in a rather unusual location.
"By the way, is there a cemetery anywhere around here?"
Jenkins asked, looking around.
"This was an ancient battlefield several centuries ago," Miss Stuart said. "There could very well be countless bones right beneath our feet. Why do you ask?"
"On the way back, I saw numerous spirits drifting about aimlessly. That would explain it. An ancient battlefield, you say? Was it from the great rebellion?"
The Fantasy Flower still needed a vast number of souls for its final stage of growth. Unfortunately, the spirits here were lacking in both quantity and quality, otherwise Jenkins could have crossed another task off his list. He dearly hoped to see the flower bloom one day; he imagined it would be quite beautiful.
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There was no unusual terrain nearby, so even with all the remains, the place wasn't haunted. The three women with him weren't the type to be scared of ghosts anyway, so the news didn't faze them in the slightest.
They chatted about all sorts of things, and Miss Stuart even mentioned to Jenkins that a certain "Mr. J.W." had become a household name in the kingdom's mathematical circles. It was, however, an unfortunate topic to raise, as one of Alexia's very reasons for being there was to find this mysterious J.W.
The petite woman simply smiled and asked Her Highness if she had finished her homework. And just like that, there were two people with sour moods sitting by the bonfire.
Nothing else of note happened that evening. At nine o'clock sharp, Jenkins bade his friends farewell and returned home.
He had nothing pressing to do now. He wasn't ready to start his third book, and the opera libretto was already finished. For once, he felt no desire to work in the evening. Seeing that the air outside was poor but the weather was otherwise pleasant, he patted Chocolate on the head and decided to take the cat for a walk.
He completed a circuit of the neighborhood without encountering any trouble. On his way back, he was even considering making a late-night snack to celebrate the peaceful evening. He took out his key to open the fence gate, but his hand froze.
Moonlight glinted off the mailbox beside the gate. Jenkins reached underneath it and plucked a small metal plate stuck to the bottom. It was a simple warding charm of the most basic kind, which he had placed there to automatically change color if anyone entered the yard.
It had now turned from brass to black, which meant someone had entered the yard.
"A burglar?" he thought in surprise.
This was the first time something had happened. As a precaution, he always hid any sensitive items before leaving, but he typically only set the simple warding charm. The more dangerous, trigger-activated traps were reserved for the basement where he kept his valuables.
Since the house hadn't exploded, it meant the items in the basement were still safe. His eyes detected no spiritual aura, which ruled out an enemy Enchanter. Therefore, at this late hour, it could only be a common thief.
"Damn it, my eight thousand pounds!"
He suddenly remembered the spoils from that double-cross, which he had left by the bookshelf in his study after going over his accounts the other day. With no time to think, he hastily opened the gate and crossed the yard. He made a show of rattling his keys at the front door, fumbling with the lock for a moment before finally opening it.
The house was pitch-black. The gas lamps and fireplace were unlit, and the curtains were drawn tight, blocking out all moonlight. He set the cat and his keys on the shoe cabinet by the door, then turned and shut it behind him, intending to find the switch for the gas lamp. Suddenly, he heard a rush of air from behind. A man, who had been hiding in the corner of the foyer, lunged at him with a grooved knife.
The solid wood of his cane met the metal blade. The knife flew from the man's grasp and embedded itself in the door. The short figure immediately dodged aside, but the cane's wielder moved as if he could see perfectly in the dark, bringing the staff down hard on the man's knee.
The whistle of the cane through the air was followed by the sickening crack of bone. Jenkins struck again, landing a precise blow on the man's shoulder. He followed with a flurry of swift, whistling strikes until the man lay motionless on the floor. Only then did Jenkins turn and twist the knob for the gas lamp.
The flame flickered, growing from a small spark to a steady glow that illuminated the side of Jenkins's face. He lowered the hand he'd used to shield the flame and turned to look at the man he had just beaten to the ground.
It was a short man he had never seen before, with a shock of messy, yellow hair. His face was pockmarked, and a bright red boil sat on the tip of his nose, giving him a thoroughly unpleasant appearance.
He wore a dark coat, and an empty leather sheath hung at his waist. The knife itself was still stuck in the door.
He groaned in pain, feeling that the man with the monocle standing before him was as terrifying as a demon. Jenkins used the tip of his cane to flick open the man's coat. Seeing no gun tucked at his waist, he finally relaxed.
"Chocolate, go check if anything's missing from the study."