Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1083

At the mention of the "Heart of the Ocean," Magic Miss's eyes seemed to light up. She summarized her thoughts aloud:

"It doesn't matter that I can't find Femishue right now, as long as I can find someone who can. Mr. Candle, you've done me a huge favor!"

She spoke with excitement, as if the elusive pirate king were standing right before her.

To avoid attracting attention, Magic Miss's laboratory was located in the open, wild hills south of Nolan. By some unknown means, she had hollowed out a cubic space inside a gently rolling hill. This was where Magic Miss conducted her dangerous rituals and experimented with hazardous items.

The entrance was hidden behind a tree woven from illusion. A downward-sloping passage followed, and after descending a simple stone staircase for less than a hundred feet, a faint light became visible.

As they drew closer, they saw a large iron door blocking the way, and standing before it was a woman in a black cloak.

The question came not from Jenkins, who could see spiritual auras, but from Magic Miss. Hathaway had already heard their footsteps and voices, so their arrival was no surprise to her:

"Magic Miss, I have some business with you."

Magic Miss asked, puzzled.

"I just came to try my luck. The communication channel you gave me is temporarily down because of the plague, so the only way I could contact you was to wait here. Is this..."

Her gaze fell on the white cat perched on the man's shoulder.

"Mr. Candle? Good evening."

Jenkins replied in kind, then shot a suspicious glance at Magic Miss.

"You've just revealed yourself to Skylark Miss."

"Oh, Mr. Candle, I've known Magic Miss for far longer than you might think."

Hathaway said, stepping aside so Magic Miss could walk over and open the rusty iron door.

Honestly, Jenkins wouldn't have been surprised to find a gloomy tomb behind the iron door. But what lay beyond the rusty gate was a space like a laboratory, exquisitely finished with expensive tiles. Chapters fırst released on novel{f}ire.net

Jenkins was genuinely taken aback, and he and his equally "unworldly" cat gawked at their surroundings. He immediately spotted the blood-red bead representing Pomphey's ability. It floated silently inside a glass cylinder, which rested on a solid block of obsidian.

"I've noticed that the spirit within this bead is draining away, though at a very low rate. This device can reduce that already slow rate by another order of magnitude. I suggest you either use it or sell it within a year, otherwise the ability it represents will surely be diminished."

Seeing Jenkins studying the strange device, Magic Miss explained. She walked over and held her palm up to the front of the glass cylinder. With a flicker of spiritual light, the cylinder dissolved. She stepped away from the table, gesturing for Jenkins to take it himself.

"If I find that runaway, I'll contact you immediately. But it probably won't be soon—I have a lot on my plate lately."

Her words seemed to be a dismissal. Although Jenkins was curious about what the silent Hathaway was doing here so late, he couldn't find a reason to stay, so he bid them farewell and left.

He casually drew a bamboo tube into existence, placed the bead inside, and tucked it into his pocket to prevent Chocolate from accidentally swallowing it. It was already nearing one in the morning. After entering the city, Jenkins began walking toward his home.

The weather was fair that night, but a thick fog permeated the air. Jenkins even had the sense that the ring of fog surrounding the city had crept further inward.

He couldn't be sure if it was just his imagination, but he knew for certain that the city's pollution was getting worse.

In the dead of night, St. George Avenue was quiet and peaceful. As far as the eye could see, only the streetlights were on; the lights in his neighbors' houses were all out. But Jenkins could see his neighbor, Silver Flute Miss, down in her basement, perhaps preparing for a ritual that could only be performed late at night.

Unexpectedly, someone was standing at the gate of his yard. He recognized the familiar spiritual aura from a distance, and as he drew closer, he saw that it was indeed the old elf, Bruce Siannod.

The last time Jenkins left the old elf's new residence, he had revealed his true appearance and even given him his home address. He just hadn't expected the elf to show up at his door so soon—after all, they had only seen each other the day before yesterday.

"Good evening, Mr. Siannod."

Jenkins greeted him politely, startling the old elf, who was bent over, examining the flowers peeking through the gaps in the fence.

Although spring had just begun, the flowers, plants, and trees in Jenkins's yard were growing at an exaggerated rate, already looking as they would in the height of summer. This was clearly abnormal, but Jenkins hadn't connected the phenomenon to his [Life Source] ability. He simply assumed it was his divine nature influencing the environment. After all, it was easy to accept that a god's residence would be surrounded by blooming flowers and eternal spring.

"Good evening, Jenkins. Forgive my unannounced visit, but I have something to discuss."

He used Jenkins's first name rather than his surname to address the young writer, though their relationship didn't seem quite that familiar yet.

"Please, come in. You must have been waiting for a long time. My apologies, I had a great deal to attend to this evening."

With that, he took out his key, opened the gate, and ushered the old elf inside. The elf hesitated for a noticeable moment at the entrance before stepping through.

The elf's complexion had recovered remarkably in the two days since they'd last met. Jenkins recalled that when he had first seen him on Monday morning, the bedridden elf had looked like he was not far from meeting Death's messenger.

But now, the old elf was brimming with vitality. Even in the early hours of the morning, his face was ruddy with health, and he seemed even more energetic than the somewhat weary Jenkins.

Jenkins didn't have any coffee at home, but he did have some tea that hadn't expired. He used his [Life Source] to freshen the old leaves slightly before brewing them.

After placing the cups and teapot on the coffee table, Jenkins sat down as well. Chocolate was already sound asleep, breathing evenly. In fact, the cat had fallen asleep in Jenkins's arms on the way home.

But no matter how late he went to bed, Jenkins was confident that the cat would wake up punctually at six o'clock the next morning and wake him up too.

"So, what did you wish to discuss?"

Jenkins felt a great deal of goodwill and affinity for the old elf, not only because he was willing to share his elven knowledge freely, but also because he radiated an accepting and warm aura, like that of a forest or a meadow.

"On Monday, you mentioned the [Exotic Tide]. I couldn't stop worrying about it, so I entrusted a friend of mine, Halama Rynsarm, to look into it for me. Oh, you've met him—he was the one I was going to have handle my will. His situation is similar to mine; you could call him an outsider in this city as well. But he's good at making friends and knows a thing or two about all sorts of hidden information."