Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1115

Before Jenkins could even state the reason for his visit, the old elf announced that he had found the thousand-year-old wood heart Jenkins needed for his potion.

Although the elf was unwilling to explain the potion's effects, he not only urged Jenkins to brew it on the next full moon but also kept hinting that after drinking it, Jenkins might find the answer he had been seeking all this time.

"Do you really think I'm the kind of person who would just drink some unknown potion? Only a madman would do something so dangerous."

Jenkins wasn't offended. He chuckled as he sat on the sofa, using his [Life Source] to revive a nearly dead potted plant in the apartment.

Seeing the dead plant blossom in Jenkins's hands, the elf's eye twitched. He suppressed the powerful urge to go over and bow, remaining in the kitchen and pretending to casually prepare the tea set as he continued his idle chat with Jenkins.

"But you've already gathered all the ingredients for the potion. I find it hard to believe you'd be able to resist the curiosity to brew it. Young man, even among pure-blooded elves, my age is a rarity. I've lived far longer than you can imagine. I can tell what kind of person you are with a single glance... Speaking of which, where did you get a unicorn's hair? As I recall, all the unicorns in the material world were taken away. The potion you're making requires hair with living essence; the kind that's been preserved for thousands of years is useless."

With a sound like shattering glass, the space before Jenkins fractured and then broke apart. A unicorn, calling out happily, stepped into the material world with its head held high. Its noble horn and pure white coat seemed to possess a magic that illuminated the dim room.

"Oh, by the blossoms..." ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novel(ꜰ)ire.net

The thousand-year-old wood heart he had found for Jenkins was from a relatively common cypress tree. Though common, it was only in a relative sense; such a material would be a treasure in the hands of any Enchanter.

The old elf didn't ask Jenkins for payment. Although Jenkins didn't want to take advantage of him, he ultimately said nothing, resolving to find a good opportunity to repay the favor.

The elf repeatedly inquired about Jenkins's plans for brewing the potion and the steps he had already completed, only ending the topic after confirming there were no mistakes. He seemed absolutely certain that Jenkins would brew the potion—an assumption that was, of course, correct.

The summoned unicorn was reluctant to leave immediately, and the old elf, Siannod, didn't seem to mind it staying in the house. On the contrary, Mr. Siannod was quite fond of the little creature, even bringing it a variety of fresh fruits—more than he had brought for Chocolate.

Fortunately, Chocolate had just finished lunch and was enjoying a pleasant afternoon nap, so the elf didn't suffer any dire consequences for this oversight.

"So, Jenkins, what brings you to visit me? I imagine you know there are certain questions I am fated not to answer for you."

The old elf asked as he sat down, wiping his hands with a towel.

"No, it's not about those questions. It's about this."

He handed the photo of the ring to the old elf, who was unfamiliar with the Carmel family, the royals of that ancient, divinely punished empire. After all, by that time, the exotic species had already migrated beyond the material world, and the old elf had only arrived in this epoch.

Siannod examined the photograph while listening to Jenkins explain the connection between the ring and the Carmel family. As expected, he showed a mixture of shock and confusion upon hearing about the lovebird comb and its terrifying curse of love. And when he finally learned of the ring's origin, his expression shifted to one of astonishment and alarm.

"Something that was supposed to have been destroyed by divine punishment has reappeared? Jenkins, I don't know what you humans of this era think of such matters, but in the ancient texts I've read, if ancient humans encountered such a thing, they would have made a blood sacrifice to atone to the gods."

The old elf said, looking down at the photo again, his focus on the magnified text from the inner band that Jenkins's psychography had captured.

"This isn't that barbaric age anymore. Besides, the gods are quite easy to talk to... at least, the Sage is."

"You only say that because of your special status," the old elf muttered.

"Special status? What special status are you talking about?"

Jenkins pressed with a frown. It was true he received the Sage's favor due to his special status as the Saint, but the old elf Siannod shouldn't have known about that.

"I didn't say anything."

The elf replied vaguely, quickly finding a way to distract him before Jenkins could press further.

"Since you mentioned my friend, old Rynsarm, also has such a ring, I suddenly recall seeing him wear one of the same style decades ago. But it's been a long time, so I'm not entirely certain..."

The elf fell into thought, then gestured for Jenkins to wait. He stood up and walked to his bedroom, returning shortly with a wooden box the size of a washbasin.

Jenkins helped him place the wooden box on the coffee table. Inside was a closed music box. It was crafted from silver, decorated with rubies and sapphires. Silver wire traced the image of a flourishing grapevine along the lid's seam, giving the music box an even more regal appearance.

Unlike ordinary music boxes, this one had a small drawer on its side in addition to the lid. The drawer was currently half-open, and as far as Jenkins could see, it was empty.

"B-03-5-2996, the [Recollection Music Box], a B-class Extraordinary item designed specifically for accurately reading memories. I bought it sixty-nine years ago and have never used it. I was planning to use it to reminisce about my homeland and childhood before I die, but it seems it'll have to wait a few more years... Never mind that. We can use it to read a specific memory of mine and see more directly whether Rynsarm possessed a ring that shouldn't exist thirty years ago."

"Read a memory? Why isn't it a stone basin carved with runes and symbols?"

Jenkins mused to himself in words only he would understand. He then watched as the old elf pulled the drawer of the music box all the way out, positioned his right index finger above the empty drawer, and closed his eyes, a thin needle in his left hand.

The elf's brow furrowed as if he were trying to recall something with great effort. After a long moment, while his eyes were still closed, he pricked his finger. A drop of red blood immediately fell, landing precisely in the small drawer, where it instantly transformed into a green liquid.