"It's been a long time, Burns. If it weren't for that letter, I would never have known you'd become a Scribe. How many years has it been? You've certainly gotten old!"
The old gravedigger, holding an oil lamp, seemed quite pleased. He unlocked the barred gate with a thick key, then led them along a stone path, winding through the dense rows of tombstones toward the tower.
The entire ground floor of the tower served as a reception room. The furniture was all new, but the antiquated gas lamps on the walls cast a pale yellow light, steeping the interior in an archaic atmosphere. Coupled with the profound silence, Jenkins felt he would never want to live alone in such a place.
The professor's acquaintance, a Mr. White, warmly invited them to sit and prepared some tea. The professor and the gravedigger first reminisced about old times before turning their conversation to the city's latest news.
The gravedigger's information, sourced from the Church of Death and End, differed slightly from what the Scribes had heard. As far as the professor and Jenkins knew, the Orthodox Church had yet to find any leads on the Skull Sword after a full day of searching. But Mr. White quietly informed them that, in fact, an astonishing discovery had been made.
Bound by confidentiality, he didn't elaborate on the details. He did, however, offer a knowing wink, hinting that even bigger news would break the next morning.
Jenkins returned home and went to sleep filled with anticipation. Just as expected, the great news arrived early the next morning, heralded by a frantic pounding on his door.
The sky was still dark, and the wind howled outside. Jenkins had been in a dream, standing in a dense forest, looking up at a young sapling. Suddenly, he heard Chocolate kicking the trunk by his feet—thump, thump, thump—and only then did he realize it was the sound of someone knocking on his door.
He reached for the pocket watch by his pillow; it was just past five o'clock. Not a sliver of light pierced the gap in the curtains. Only the fireplace still burned, providing a gentle warmth and glow.
He stumbled out of bed with his eyes still closed, a wave of nausea washing over him from the lack of sleep. Shuffling in his slippers, he twisted the knob on the gas lamp by the wall before dragging his weary body to the door and opening it.
A blast of wind and snow caught him completely off guard. Though it was late winter, a staggering blizzard had silently blanketed the entire street in silver. Jenkins, clad only in his pajamas, shivered violently, the shock chasing away the last vestiges of sleep.
"Oh, by the Sage, what weather is this! Please, come in, Captain Bincy. I'll make some hot tea; you must be frozen solid."
"No time for tea! Get in the carriage!"
The middle-aged man wore a black hat, its brim already layered with snow. He reached out and grabbed Jenkins, his eyes bulging as if they were about to leap from their sockets.
"Get dressed quickly and come back to the church with me. Something terrible has happened."
In his haste, he nearly left a still-sleepy Chocolate behind, but they managed to scramble out the door in just ten minutes. The sky remained dark when they reached the main entrance of the church, and the howling blizzard had grown even more ferocious.
Jenkins and Captain Bincy braved the wind, climbing the steps to the main hall. At the entrance, they shook the snow from their clothes and hats, then carefully wiped their soles on the doormat before daring to step inside.
The four-story building behind the main temple complex had been transformed into a makeshift hospital. As Jenkins crossed the courtyard, more of the wounded were being carried in. Most were ordinary people, but Enchanters made up a considerable number as well.
"Has there been a war?"
Jenkins asked, bewildered. The sheer number of casualties was staggering.
Of course, Jenkins had been summoned to help with the healing. He was now the Legacy Sage Church's most outstanding healer in the diocese, bar none. But the number of patients was simply overwhelming. They had no choice but to prioritize the Enchanters first, then selectively treat the most gravely wounded among the others.
During the frenzied work, he managed to piece together what had happened. Apparently, the Church of Death and End had used some method to track down the sword. But when the forces of the Orthodox Church arrived, they discovered the massive cemetery was nothing but a trap.
Vast numbers of the dead had clawed their way out of the earth to engage the living in a chaotic melee, while the demigods were entangled by bizarre and terrifying undead creatures. The battle had erupted in the dead of night. By the time Jenkins reached the church, the undead had been all but vanquished, but the living had paid a terrible price.
Most of the wounded who had been transported back did not have life-threatening injuries. After about an hour of treatment, the Church confirmed the situation was secure and had no choice but to summon Jenkins directly to the front lines.
The cemetery looked as if it had been thoroughly churned up. Jenkins had never seen so many human skeletons in his life. Snowflakes were slowly burying the bones and rotting corpses, but nothing could conceal the foul stench that rose to the heavens.
They were on the outskirts of Nolan City; a small nearby village had already been evacuated. Scars from the battle were visible everywhere. After stepping out of the carriage, Jenkins was led to Miss Bevanna.
She appeared unharmed, though her clothes were filthy, covered in dark stains that gave off a pungent odor. Jenkins, however, thought it best not to point this out.
She was utterly exhausted, but still managed to give Jenkins a few words of caution, telling him to stay safe, before letting Captain Bincy lead him away to treat the injured.
The frantic work continued until ten in the morning. Nearly all of the dying had been pulled back from the brink; the rest had returned to the embrace of their god. The area around the cemetery was still being secured, so Jenkins couldn't get close. He found an empty carriage at the edge of the village and sat on its forward edge to rest.
The snow continued to fall, as if mourning for the fallen. This would likely be the last snowfall before the next winter. Jenkins looked up at the sky, only to get a face full of snow shaken from the carriage roof by Chocolate.
Once the dust had settled, the evening sun struggled to pierce the thick layer of fog and cast its weak rays upon the small patch of land. Accompanied by Miss Bevanna, Jenkins walked into the cemetery. Numerous Enchanters were still combing the grounds, searching for the remains of the undead. To prevent a plague, these remains had to be purified with divine arts before being incinerated to completely eliminate the threat.
Their destination was the gravedigger's cottage. It was now being guarded by personnel from Nolan's five major churches, though of course, they would not dare obstruct Miss Bevanna.
"Were many lives lost?"
Jenkins asked, his voice heavy with concern. More than his physical exhaustion, it was the unease in his heart that troubled him most.
"Seventeen Enchanters from the Orthodox Church lost their lives," she replied. "The number of civilian casualties is still being calculated." Follow current novᴇls on novel•fire.net
Thankfully, the operation had been treated with the utmost seriousness. The battle began unexpectedly, but in truth, everyone had been prepared to face the undead.