Seeing the spiritual light around the undead creature dim, the anger in Jenkins’s heart finally subsided. He kicked out again, and the mass of plants and bone crashed heavily to the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust. It shattered, utterly fragile, leaving behind nothing but a patch of green grass and yellowed bones that looked as if they had been sucked dry.
An immense surge of spirit abruptly flooded into Jenkins’s body the next second. He couldn't help but let out a low groan, a flicker of confusion in his mind.
"Hm? What's going on? Where did this come from?"
He had initially thought it was just another case of a reanimated undead. In his fury, he hadn't taken the time to properly observe the creature he had destroyed. Now, thinking back on it, its appearance and characteristics seemed more like those of a Cursed Item.
As he pondered, a sound came from the doorway. He turned to see two fully armed, black-robed figures step inside, their eyes fixed on Jenkins and the withered bones on the floor with a mixture of shock and suspicion. They had instinctively adopted a combat stance, but the leader recognized Jenkins's face and his signature cat.
"Mr. Williams, this... did you take care of this?"
These men were clearly Gravediggers from the Church of Death and End; Jenkins recognized their signature black robes.
He nodded hesitantly, his mind connecting this to other recent events.
"So, this is actually... A-06-1-4408, the Curse of the Shipwrecked's Remains?"
His guess was spot-on. Half an hour later, a team from the Legacy Sage Church, who had been alerted, arrived and confirmed it.
This time, the team was led by a Captain Earn Swift. He and Jenkins were acquainted, though not as well as he knew Captain Bincy.
"Oh, by the Sage, to be honest, I thought this was another high-level undead that had revived for some reason. You know about what I ran into outside the city a few weeks ago."
He explained the whole story to everyone present, hoping to justify his rash behavior.
"You see, I just accidentally broke the window and wanted to pay for the damages. Fate must be playing a joke on me, ha! Who knew this thing would be hiding in here?"
Jenkins couldn't even clearly explain his own actions. His mind had been clouded by a sudden burst of rage, but if he admitted that, even he would find the excuse flimsy.
Because the alley was not far from Pops Antique Shop, Papa Oliver arrived soon after hearing the news. He inspected the still-living grass and withered bones on the ground, then casually tossed them aside. The items were utterly worthless.
The men from the Church of Death and End all seemed to know Papa Oliver; the lead Gravedigger even showed him extreme deference.
The group exchanged what information they had and quickly surmised that today's incident had been snuffed out before it could even begin. Regardless, the fact that there were no casualties was a cause for celebration. Read complete versıon only at Nove1Fire.net
As for why the escaped skeleton had appeared here, no one could say. The inspection of the simple house concluded quickly, revealing no secret passages or any other suspicious items.
The only certainty was that the skeleton must have been controlled by someone to appear here. The house was thick with dust, yet there were no footprints from the skeleton, and it clearly couldn't fly. Thus, that was the only logical conclusion.
"So, am I to understand that if we lie in wait here, there's a chance we might run into the mastermind behind this?"
Jenkins summarized, and the cat in his arms shifted discontentedly, trying to find a more comfortable position.
"That's right," Papa Oliver replied, "but whatever action is taken next has nothing to do with you."
Papa Oliver emphasized the point again, then ordered:
"Come back to the church with me now. We never knew that plants could destroy this type of Cursed Item. We must determine if what just happened can be replicated. That knowledge would be incredibly valuable."
"No, I think this A-06-1-4408 was clearly weakened. I couldn't feel the same curse and resentment they radiated on the night of the riot..."
The two of them, along with Captain Earn Swift, bid farewell to the Gravedigger squad still inside the house. They walked through the alley back to the main road, where three carriages were waiting. Jenkins was told to get into the middle carriage, and after he climbed in, Papa Oliver stooped and followed him inside.
"So, is there really any chance the mastermind will show up here?"
Jenkins's curiosity lingered.
"Not likely. Have you ever seen a mastermind brazenly appear right in front of the Church?"
Papa Oliver replied, his attention elsewhere as he idly fiddled with a blade of the withered grass.
The carriage started moving slowly, and pedestrians on the street immediately made way. Jenkins pulled back the curtain to look outside. Despite the delay, it was still evening. Pedestrians in bulky clothes flowed endlessly down the street like interwoven threads. Beneath the gloomy sky, the city was shrouded in mist—a city that, Jenkins knew, concealed countless secrets.
He gazed idly outside, not really paying attention to what he was seeing. His hand stroked the cat on his lap; that was his main focus now. He had promised to take it out to eat, but it looked like they would have to dine at the church instead.
The alley exit wasn't far from the intersection with the main street, and the carriage had to turn soon after setting off. It was a typical crossroads; a left turn led toward the church. As the carriage made the turn, three faces standing by a rusty postbox, waiting to cross the road, came into Jenkins's view.
The first was an old gentleman, hunched over and leaning on a cane. He wore an ugly brown scarf and an old-fashioned black hat that covered a balding patch on his head, with tufts of white hair poking out from the edges.
The second was a plump woman with an impatient look on her face. She carried a shopping basket and looked like a housewife, but her attire suggested she wasn't poor. The scarf around her neck seemed to be made of animal fur, though Jenkins couldn't identify the material.
The last was an ordinary-looking young man, who was gazing anxiously across the street as if waiting for a lover on a date. His clothes were similar to Jenkins's, all in dark tones. Jenkins chose such clothes because they didn't show dirt, which meant fewer trips to the laundry.
He didn't register it at first, but after the carriage had fully rounded the corner, he was struck by the unshakeable feeling that he had definitely seen one of those faces before.