Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1093

Although the day had the festive air of a special celebration, at least the carriage fares hadn't been raised as they usually were for major holidays.

But as soon as they were on their way, the driver began chattering incessantly with Jenkins about the plague. If Jenkins hadn't intervened, the cat, who was trying to nap, would have likely thrown a fit.

It was the latter half of March, and spring had finally taken hold of the city. The most telling signs, however, were not in the urban center but out in the countryside.

Once they left the bounds of Nolan City, the path beneath the horse's hooves grew bumpy and difficult to traverse, and the surrounding scenery became more desolate.

But gazing out across the open fields, one could see that the early spring weeds had already been pulled. On the flat expanse of earth, farmers were preparing for the start of a new year.

Given Nolan's climate and this year's rainfall, it was the perfect season for sowing. The reawakening of life was evident not only in the peculiar changes to Chocolate's appetite but also in the farmland, which, after lying dormant all winter, was finally ready to nurture life anew.

Neither the original Jenkins nor his current self had ever been around farm work, and looking out the carriage window, he found the whole scene rather novel. Content orıginally comes from NovєlFіre.net

Nolan's excellent natural environment was not limited to its rich mineral deposits and convenient transportation. To the city's northeast lay the Sebek Mountain Range, which cut across the center of the continent, while to the south, the great southwestern plains began.

This was one of the most fertile farming regions on the continent's west coast. To feed the massive populations of Nolan and its neighboring cities, the City Council had even passed a special ordinance prohibiting the pastoral grasslands to the east of Nolan from expanding southward.

Jenkins murmured, oblivious to the complex, deeply human expression that flickered across his cat's face.

York Town was one of the smaller towns under Nolan's jurisdiction, with no particularly unique features. The only time Jenkins had ever heard of it was on Monday of that week, at the old elf's house, when the man sent by the Dead Man's Whip had claimed to be a lifetime member of the York Town Firearms Enthusiast Association.

Papa Oliver's task wasn't complicated, just incredibly time-consuming. According to Nolan's administrative map, York Town was the farthest town from the city. Thirty years ago, it had belonged to Mackwell City in Anjou County. But a great plague had wiped out nearly all the surrounding villages, leaving only the populated areas closer to Nolan. So, twenty-seven years ago, when the administrative districts were redrawn, York Town had been placed under Nolan's governance.

The carriage ride from Nolan to York Town was a full two and a half hours, a thoroughly dull and tedious affair. It was long enough for the cat to take a nap, wake up, bat idly at Jenkins's sleeve out of boredom, grow even more bored, and then curl up to sleep again. The only person on the carriage who seemed happy was the driver; having landed such a long fare, he had already earned more than enough for the day, even if he got no other business.

A two-and-a-half-hour journey couldn't be done in one go; even if the people could stand it, the horse couldn't.

About two-thirds of the way there, a small village appeared faintly on the right side of the road. After consulting Jenkins, the driver veered off the main path to take a break there.

It was a typical country village. As they drew closer, they could see the dilapidated houses and smell the stench from the villagers' livestock.

Of course, the odor probably wasn't just from the animals. While the residents of Nolan's urban districts were accustomed to bathing, Jenkins knew that rural folk, fearing the risk of catching a cold, were about as resistant to washing as Chocolate was.

The carriage didn't enter the village but stopped under a large tree at its entrance. The driver took a bucket and headed into the village, returning a short while later with it filled to the brim.

The water wasn't for Jenkins, of course, but for the horse. The animal looked quite content, standing in the shade and stamping the dirt a few times with its hoof before plunging its muzzle into the bucket. A rhythmic slurping sound immediately followed.

"Do you want some water?"

Jenkins had his own water flask, but that certainly wouldn't do for Chocolate. Seeing the horse drink, he posed the question to his cat. The cat looked up at him seriously, and only after confirming he wasn't joking did it shake its head.

"Is Chocolate getting smarter?"

Jenkins muttered quietly to himself.

The plan was to rest for ten minutes and then set off again. While the driver sat resting under the large tree, Jenkins also stepped out of the carriage for a breath of fresh air.

Although there was a faint odor in the air, the country air was still quite fresh compared to the city's. And after being cooped up in the carriage for over an hour, any air would have felt exhilarating to Jenkins.

He and his driver weren't the only travelers resting there. After getting out, Jenkins noticed an old man with a worn, yellow satchel under the tree. The satchel was really just a bundle of cloth with a black patch, and the old man must have arrived earlier than them, as he was already chatting idly with the driver.

Jenkins paid no mind to their conversation, carefully treading the dirt path to the edge of the farmland across from the tree. He looked down at the moist soil and had an instinctive feeling that this autumn would bring a good harvest.

"I wonder what they're planting."

While Jenkins wasn't completely ignorant of agriculture, trying to identify seeds buried in the earth was a difficult task indeed.

The cat, of course, didn't know the answer either. It was far more concerned with whether the things grown here would be tasty.

Soon, the driver called for Jenkins to continue their journey. As the carriage turned around, Jenkins saw a group of people emerge from the village and crowd around the old man under the tree, all talking to him at once.

The crowd quickly surrounded the tree, and Jenkins could no longer see what was happening.

"That old gentleman seems to be a very experienced farmer," the driver explained. "We were just talking. He appears to be a scholar, traveling around to collect soil samples from different farmlands. He's staying in the village for a week to help the locals with their sowing, so everyone here respects him greatly."

Seeing Jenkins's interest, the driver added:

"He's probably a missionary from the Church of Earth and Harvest. They do this sort of thing every spring. You have to admit, it's very effective, and very helpful."

"A missionary from the Church of Earth and Harvest? An expert in planting techniques, inspecting farmland..."

Jenkins chewed on the words, a sudden feeling washing over him. He quickly placed the cat on the adjacent seat, pushed open the window, and, holding onto the frame with one hand, leaned half his body out to look back.