First was Solar Fist, a Red Martial Arts ability. Its effect was simple: while throwing a punch, it drove a sliver of the sun’s true essence into the opponent’s body. Learning it was an extremely dangerous proposition; a moment of carelessness during the ritual, and the energy reflected by a material called a Hexagonal Sun Crystal could burn you to ash.
But it was just as powerful. As Jenkins understood it, a successful hit was an undeniable death sentence, unless the opponent possessed an ability like Undying Man or could somehow switch bodies.
He had no intention of learning it, however. He had no idea what the long list of complex materials even were, and his own affinity with the sun was low. While a failed ritual wouldn't kill him, it would certainly leave him gravely injured.
The second ability was called Listen to the Wind, a Golden Divine Art. This power was restricted to Enchanters of the 7th level or higher and required a formidable soul. Its function was to hear the voice of the wind and perceive all it had experienced.
It was a difficult concept to describe, but it was essentially another form of communing with nature. The Sage Church’s archives in the Nolan suburbs had records of this ritual, describing it as a truly great ability, quite possibly one of the first bestowed upon humanity by the gods at the dawn of the extraordinary age.
An Enchanter with the Listen to the Wind ability could be called a Wind-listener. They relied on heeding the wind’s voice to gather information, observe the world, and even find the path to further advancement. This divine art was one of the ultimate powers of the Church of All Things and Nature. Although the materials and conditions for the ritual were remarkably simple, it was said that only a truly devout follower of the Spirit of Nature could ever hope to learn it.
As for who qualified as a "devout follower of the Spirit of Nature," according to a crass joke Papa Oliver once made, they were a bunch of hermit-like ascetics living like savages in the forest.
Jenkins knew he could not let a single soul know he had acquired this ability. The reaction from the Enchanters of the Church of All Things and Nature was impossible to predict. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ noⅴelfire.net
Besides these two abilities, Jenkins also gained knowledge of several special rituals. The most unique among them was Sunlight Absorption, which allowed any material enchanted by the ritual to absorb the energy of the sun.
But the materials it required were incredibly expensive. Jenkins could only recognize a small fraction of the components, and that fraction alone was worth his entire fortune—not including the treasure of unknown value.
Chocolate meowed softly, standing on the sofa and craning its neck to look at what Jenkins had written down. The cat was very interested in the ritual. Jenkins didn't grasp its full significance, but Chocolate did. This had to be a ritual one could only comprehend when on the verge of touching the very source of the sun.
Even in bygone eras, you couldn't find more mortals who had mastered it than you could count on two paws.
The essence of Chocolate’s own power was the moon and shadows, not the sun, but due to certain past events, it was exceptionally sensitive to the sun in the material world. Seeing this ritual gave it a new idea. Perhaps it could use this to further recover the power it had lost by forcing its way into the material world.
A hint of melancholy colored its thoughts. It turned its head to look at the art-like metal block, determined to dismantle it before Jenkins had a chance to use it.
The man, oblivious to the conspiracy his cat was weaving, continued to organize his newfound knowledge. The information he had received was chaotic and disordered. To prevent any important details from being missed, Jenkins wanted to arrange it all into written materials, record it systematically, memorize it, and finally, destroy the evidence.
Among everything, he was particularly interested in a melody called the "Song of Nature." It was fascinating and beautiful, bearing a slight resemblance to a short passage from the divine hymn he had heard in his trance. The only problem was that he knew nothing about music and couldn't transcribe the score, so he could only let the tune echo in his mind.
As he thought, he unconsciously began to hum the melody. It reminded Chocolate of that night at the turning of the Traveler and Frostfall Moon and the End and Snowfall Moon, when Jenkins had attempted to hum the entirety of the Saint's Dirge.
Though Jenkins didn't know the name of that tune, it had been truly awful to listen to.
Chocolate began to protest. Jenkins, aware that his voice was probably not to his cat’s liking, fell silent.
"Still, Hathaway would probably be interested in this piece," he mused. "Maybe I can share it with her."
Thinking of Hathaway and music brought to mind the recent awkwardness between them. Jenkins couldn't help but lift his hands and rub his face, hoping to scrub away both the fatigue and his troubles.
He remained hunched over the coffee table, working until two in the morning, only stopping when he was certain he had written down every piece of knowledge. After sorting the pages and memorizing them once more, he tossed them all into the fireplace. He watched the flames flare violently for a moment as the paper blackened, turned to ash, and vanished.
"Alright, alright, time for bed, Chocolate."
He spoke softly but received no response. Turning his head, he saw the cat curled up beside him, already fast asleep, hugging the silver metal block.
The cat’s breathing was even, its whiskers twitching faintly with each exhale. Sleeping Chocolate, Jenkins decided with absolute certainty, was even cuter than awake Chocolate.
He draped a small blanket over his cat, then laid out his own bedding and slid under the covers.
Jenkins knew this was the feeling of home. A man and a cat, living, working, and studying in peace. Perhaps the home needed a mistress to be truly complete, but for now, he didn't... he didn't dare to entertain such a notion.
Meanwhile, the feigning cat swore an oath that it would never allow another human to set foot in its territory.
Although Jenkins was a little annoyed that Papa Oliver had accepted an invitation to a ball on his behalf, he understood it was born out of concern for him.
He still complained a little on Friday morning, only to learn that Papa Oliver would be meeting with Mary soon—to discuss Jenkins. He immediately fell silent. If Mary were to have a formal talk with him about Briny and Hathaway, there would be no escape.
The peaceful Friday was followed by a rather noisy Saturday. The moment he woke that morning, Jenkins knew the day would not be a pleasant one. From the street below, he could hear a clattering, rattling sound, as if someone were dumping a box of metal parts onto the ground.