Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1121

Upon reading the text he'd been commissioned to translate, Jenkins's first thought was to wonder if it was connected to the cultists' summoning of the angel. But he dismissed the idea almost immediately. The three steps for the summoning were already crystal clear: the bridge formed by the God's Child Umbilical Cord, the blood sacrifice ritual, and the link to the Exotic Tide. There was simply no need for an item of divine punishment.

He quickly returned the contents of the paper bag to their original state and, with a grave expression, carried it back to his study on the second floor amidst the roar of the downpour.

When he returned to the shop on the ground floor with his cat, he was startled to find a young woman standing inside.

She wore a brown overcoat that enveloped her figure, allowing Jenkins to see only her legs, clad in tall ladies' boots. She had captivating, wine-red hair that shimmered with hints of purple in the flickering gaslight. An exquisite, silver coronet-like ornament adorned the front of her hair. Though she had the appearance of a young girl, her smile held a mature allure that defied her age.

Jenkins's gaze remained on the woman's shapely legs, not out of any sudden desire, but out of sheer astonishment. Her boots were completely clean, without a single speck of mud or drop of water.

That was utterly impossible, unless she had changed her boots right at the doorstep.

He spotted the anomaly in an instant. With a slight shrug of his left shoulder, the cat perched there leaped down and scampered over to its cushion on the counter. Jenkins’s eyes narrowed. Not knowing if she was friend or foe, he had to prepare for the worst.

The woman saw Jenkins holding a large ring of keys. She offered him a smile but remained silent.

Rain cascaded from the eaves in a solid curtain, but Jenkins was in no mood to appreciate the sudden storm. He tensed, bracing for whatever might happen next, and ventured a question:

"Welcome to Pops Antique Shop. How may I help you?"

"Is Papa Oliver here?"

the woman inquired, heading toward the counter as if this were a perfectly normal visit. Her words were brief, but her thick Nolan accent was unmistakable—the kind you only develop after living in the city for many years.

"Pops is out on business," Jenkins replied. "Given the weather, I doubt he'll be back before this evening."

Jenkins stepped behind the counter, wary of what the 7th-level Enchanter before him intended.

"Since Pops isn't here, I can speak with you instead, Mr. Williams."

Jenkins thought, giving a slight nod.

"What is this about?"

He was ready to unleash [Blasphemous Creation]; the strange young woman was well within its range. If his visitor dared show any hostility, he would ensure she received a taste of righteous punishment.

"But why should I assume the worst?" he mused. "She could just be an ordinary Enchanter passing through."

A corner of his mind whispered the thought. He looked up at the woman, waiting for her to speak.

"Before we discuss business, I believe I should introduce myself. My name is Lena Stevel."

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Jenkins didn't know anyone named Lena, but he did know of someone with the surname Stevel. It wasn't a common name, and when he connected it to the warning letter from Mr. Black Cat, he realized the young woman before him was very likely Pops's former apprentice, Miss Stevel.

"But why does she look so young? Does she have elven blood, too?"

Jenkins wondered, observing Miss Stevel in silence. Her expression suggested she had anticipated his reaction. She extended a hand, and a brilliant golden orb of light materialized above her palm. It was some kind of divine ability, not fully activated, but merely a shimmering display of light.

"It's a divine art of the Sage."

Jenkins recognized it, and his guard relaxed slightly. He gave a slight cough to cover his awkwardness and gestured upstairs.

"I think we can talk in the reception room on the second floor. Do you like black tea?"

For a long time—well, perhaps not that long, considering he’d only been in this world for a little over half a year—Jenkins had been curious about Pops’s past. For six months, he had been trying through various channels to uncover the old man's secrets.

While he knew it was impolite, Jenkins didn't feel he was in the wrong. The problem was, the more he dug, the more tight-lipped his sources became. He couldn't even find a trace of his senior apprentices—the ones who should still be alive, as the third had perished in the necromantic plague thirty years ago.

For this beautiful woman to suddenly appear in the antique shop—Jenkins could hardly believe his luck. As he led her upstairs, he discreetly studied his senior, but her attire and features offered no useful clues.

Once they were seated, Jenkins served tea and pastries. After placating his cat, who was throwing a fit, their conversation began in earnest.

Outside, the storm intensified. Rain hammered against the windows with such terrifying force that Jenkins wouldn't have been surprised if the glass had shattered at any moment. There had been no downpours late last summer or through the autumn, and winter was an even less likely season for it. This was, without a doubt, the heaviest natural rainfall he had seen since arriving in this world.

The rain made the air indoors feel damp, even with the windows shut tight. It was unavoidable, really; the building was quite old.

"I remember the night I left Nolan... it was storming just . So many years have passed in the blink of an eye, yet this place hasn't changed a bit."

The woman spoke with a touch of melancholy, her eyes naturally drifting around the room.

Jenkins remained noncommittal. Instead, he asked:

"Does that mean you intentionally let my friend's warning letter get through to me?"

"Yes," she confirmed. "I wanted you to know I was coming to find you; it would have been quite rude not to. Pops used to tell me constantly that I failed my etiquette classes. It seems he's finally found a new apprentice with some manners."

Miss Stevel lifted her teacup, but instead of drinking, she simply brought it to her nose, inhaled its aroma, and gave a slight shake of her head.

"You didn't give my friend any trouble, did you?"

Jenkins was worried about Mr. Black Cat, who had been innocently drawn into this affair.

"Of course not. Why would I cause him any trouble? I must admit, though, I was surprised you knew I was in Dullin. And even more surprised that your friend managed to find me so easily."