Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1104

"Give it up. You can't win. This is a powerful artifact the Gear Artisans' Association just forged from what they've unearthed. As long as there's steam machinery nearby, I'm absolutely invincible!"

Diwo laughed maniacally, the sound punctuated by hacking coughs that nearly made him pass out. But he prudently backed away, step by step, obviously aware that if Jenkins killed him, the problem of the animated, frenzied gears would be moot.

"You stole that from the Gear Artisans' Association?"

Jenkins pressed, finding it hard to believe that group would be so generous as to simply hand over such a powerful item to Diwo. Especially considering the man's nickname...

"Hahaha, *cough, cough*... My nickname, after all, is 'The Thief'!"

The weakened middle-aged pirate declared, far from being ashamed, he seemed to revel in the title. Still, he showed no inclination of getting any closer to Jenkins.

The situation was indeed dire for Jenkins. His [Blasphemous Creation] was out of range. [Twin Demons], though powerful, would struggle to blast through the dense web of metal pipes before him. The area of effect for [Mechanical Light] was certainly wide enough, but Jenkins wasn't sure how it would interact with these bizarre constructs. As for [Frost Punch], it was all but useless.

"What exactly did the Gear Artisans' Association find down there? They've been causing tremors for the last six months... what are they trying to unearth?"

Jenkins couldn't fathom it, but first, he had to deal with the immediate threat.

Flames licked at the floor, melting the fallen gears and severed pipes, but his [Inexhaustible Fire], while unquenchable, was not infinite in its reach. It couldn't envelop every piece of metal, serving only to destroy what his sword couldn't immediately sever.

The animated pipes didn't just draw power directly from the steam furnace or reconfigure themselves with whirring gears. More alarmingly, each pipe seemed to possess its own intelligence.

As the fight dragged on, Jenkins sensed a growing coordination among the metallic tendrils. If he wasn't imagining it, then the gear in Diwo's hand—the one that had animated the steam furnace—was a truly formidable artifact.

It wasn't that Jenkins was out of options. With just three seconds to channel his power, he could unleash a blade of light potent enough to cleave the entire cargo ship in two. But that was a luxury he didn't have. The pipes, swarming from every direction, threatened to flatten him into paste.

Even the floorboards under his feet and the wall at his back were no longer safe. It was as if the entire ship had come to life, radiating an infinite malice and killing intent from all sides. His sword and fist were quickly becoming insufficient to hold them off. As a pipe burst down from above, trailing splinters from the ceiling, a wild idea suddenly struck Jenkins.

"This is your last chance, Diwo! Surrender now, and I guarantee you a fair trial!"

He yelled while fending off the pipes, his voice directed at Diwo, who was hiding behind the steam furnace deeper in the hold. By now, the massive furnace had absorbed so many pipes that it had warped into the grotesque likeness of a human face, its open fuel hatch a gaping maw.

Even though no one was feeding it fuel, the brilliant flames inside burned ever higher.

"Have you lost your mind?"

Diwo shot back, shrinking further behind the steam furnace, which had taken on a strange mechanical beauty, like a piece of modern sculpture. It had used its intense heat to alter the metallic composition of the pipes it absorbed, turning them all a uniform, brilliant silver. Combined with the seamless interlocking of its gears and a kind of chaotic elegance, even Jenkins had to admit it was a remarkable work of art.

Jenkins wasted no more words. He summoned his [Twin Demons] to blast the pipes swarming around him. Seizing the opportunity in the ensuing chaos, he stooped to retrieve his cane, which had been knocked aside and had nearly tumbled to the deck below.

"You brought this on yourself!"

The author roared, retracting his White Bone Holy Sword. He gripped the top of the staff made from thousand-year-old heartwood with both hands. Planting his feet slightly apart, he powerfully drove the staff's tip into the wooden deck.

A dazzling green light erupted from his body, flooding the corridor. He channeled the maximum amount of life Spirit he could muster, sending it surging through the staff and into the very structure of the ship.

Fortunately for him, this was no steel behemoth. It was a typical Fidektri-style cargo vessel, with two masts and three wooden decks.

It wasn't a special day by any means, just an ordinary Saturday. And even on a weekend, the docklands were bustling with laborers. They didn't know the word "exploitation," nor was there anyone to explain its meaning to them. But they did know that hard work put food on the table for their families. For most, that was happiness enough.

The first inkling of trouble came around ten in the morning. A few workers, taking a three-minute break from unloading cargo, happened to notice during their idle chatter that the ship in the next berth, the one waiting for repairs, was completely devoid of movement. Not a single person could be seen on its decks.

That was unusual. No ship owner, not even one with an empty vessel, would dare leave it completely unguarded. Normally, a glance from the docks would reveal at least a few sailors on deck, smoking, sweeping, or busying themselves with some other mundane task.

But the strange stillness didn't garner much attention. After all, even if every soul on that ship had dropped dead, it was no concern of the men on the docks.

The second strange occurrence came ten minutes later. Stevedores walking close to the vessel's hull heard peculiar noises emanating from within the strangely empty ship. The more observant among them also noticed ripples disturbing the water around its hull. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by novel⦿fire.net

The sound was a mix of metal being hammered and the whirring of complex steam machinery. As it grew louder, drawing more and more attention, even the captain of the ship being unloaded couldn't help but turn his gaze toward the disturbance.

"Couldn't be a steam bomb, could it?"

Someone in the crowd joked, though the humor was short-lived. The comment immediately brought to mind the massive, shocking explosion that had occurred in the early hours of the previous Friday.

Before the strange sounds could incite a full-blown panic, a muffled explosion erupted from deep within the ship's hold.

Though the gentle rocking of the pier suggested the blast wasn't severe, the sight of splintering hull planks and the panicked shouts of the dockworkers yelling, "Explosion!" was enough to throw the entire dockside into chaos.