Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1123

Jenkins stood in the downpour, gritting his teeth. He had been so close—just a hair's breadth away from learning Papa Oliver's secret from Miss Stevel.

He'd been so agonizingly close.

The figure of "Papa Oliver" remained silent, its head bowed. Then, it suddenly looked up, revealing a face that seemed to be melting. The skin drooped from its skull like a loose sack, its features blurring until they dissolved entirely into the flesh.

The sheet of skin slid effortlessly from its head, landing on the cobblestones of Fifth Queen's Avenue before rapidly dissolving into the rainwater.

But Jenkins had no time to ponder the composition of that skin. His eyes were fixed on the monster's head. After shedding its fleshy mask, the creature still had a head, but it was now a perfect sphere of water. Its surface was smooth and featureless, save for the faint impression of a nose.

"A-01-1-3411, the Rain Man."

Jenkins recalled asking Papa Oliver about rain-related Cursed Items not long ago. The old man had only mentioned three rather uncommon numbered items or phenomena to broaden his knowledge. In reality, there were a vast number of Cursed Items connected to the weather.

Take A-01-1-3411, the Rain Man, for instance. Even among Cursed Items with a danger level of 1, it was exceptionally unique. The Rain Man appeared without any pattern, but its arrival always heralded days of torrential rain in that location. Ancient myths contained similar figures, but ignorant mortals simply saw them as symbols of disaster, often associating them with floods and other calamities.

This meant its appearance was often accompanied by rampages of Cursed Items beyond human imagination, or large-scale containment breaches... In most cases, both.

The Rain Man itself didn't possess the invincible power of the Young Flower Seller or the coachman, but as long as it was raining—even without direct contact with the water—it could never be injured or destroyed.

Even sealing it was impossible. It could move freely anywhere within the storm's reach, and it was highly intelligent.

Every appearance of the Rain Man was a major catastrophe. The only way to mitigate the disaster was to transfer all Cursed Items out of the rain-soaked area and wait for A-01-1-3411 to dissipate on its own, a process that could take anywhere from a day to a week.

"Why are you targeting me?"

The pristine White Bone Holy Sword materialized in Jenkins's hand. Rainwater streamed down its length, dripping from the tip to create ripples in a puddle on the ground, only to be immediately swallowed by another.

As powerful as the White Bone Holy Sword was, killing the Rain Man in a downpour was likely impossible. This thing wasn't a living being; it was more akin to a natural phenomenon.

"Someone paid a sufficient price, so I came."

"I can pay a sufficient price as well. Leave Nolan."

"Twelve Stones of Illusion."

Jenkins had never even heard of that type of Sin Coin. Besides, after buying information from the insurance merchant, he barely had any Sin Coins left.

"Who hired you to kill me?"

he asked, tossing a round, green coin to the creature.

"Mortals who worship the god known as the Lord of Slaughter. They tasked me with temporarily trapping the most powerful being in this city for one day."

It wasn't a request to kill, Jenkins surmised, probably because those cultists couldn't afford the price.

Jenkins wondered why so many people were suddenly capable of summoning and commissioning Cursed Items.

While Jenkins was still pondering this, the Rain Man's watery head tilted slightly to look at the Blasphemy Seed in its hand. The coin then dissolved, sinking into its body like a drop of ink.

"How many Sin Coins to get you to abandon this commission?"

Jenkins asked again, spitting to the side as some rainwater found its way into his mouth.

"Five Blasphemy Seeds."

The Rain Man's voice was a low murmur, nearly lost in the deafening roar of the storm.

Negotiations were over. Jenkins didn't have anywhere near that many Sin Coins.

He fell silent, his gaze fixed on the creature. Its featureless head was constantly pelted by the downpour, yet the raindrops seemed to bounce off an invisible film, never penetrating the sphere of water.

The spring air was chilled by the storm. Aside from the drumming of the rain, the only sound was the occasional yawn from Chocolate, who was huddled by the wall. The two figures faced each other in the deluge. The Rain Man had no need to attack; its sole purpose was to keep Jenkins occupied.

"Trapping the strongest person in the city... that means the plan is about to begin. The heretical god's angel..."

A chill ran through Jenkins. He knew for a fact that the Church of Knowledge and Books wasn't ready for the angel-summoning ritual. They had only come to believe it was necessary last week, and today was just Monday. No matter how efficient they were, it was impossible to prepare such a complex ceremony in such a short time. Fresh chapters posted on novèlfire.net

By that same logic, the other four major churches in Nolan were likely just as unprepared.

The rain plastered his hair to his scalp and blurred his vision, forcing him to blink constantly. He closed his eyes one more time, took a sharp breath, and when the dim cityscape reappeared, he launched himself forward, sword in hand.

The brilliant flash of his sword seemed to tear through the curtain of rain. A roar like a thunderclap echoed from the ground. The white light carved a perfect arc through the air, leaving a momentary void in the dense sheet of falling water.

When his feet slammed back onto the flagstones of Fifth Queen's Avenue, the impact sent the standing water trembling, the ripples lingering for a long moment. Beside them, the massive, watery head he had severed rolled toward the wall, dissolving halfway into a splash of clear water that merged with the deluge.

Sword in hand, Jenkins swiftly retreated under the eaves, watching the body in the middle of the road collapse to the ground.

He panted, wiping a hand across his face and flinging the water away. Rivulets ran down his sleeves and pant legs, quickly forming a puddle at his feet and forcing his feline companion to retreat to the doorway.

His eyes remained fixed on the storm as the corpse dissolved into the puddles. Then, amidst the splashing raindrops, a figure made entirely of water rose up from below.

"A failure," he muttered. "Immortal, just as I thought."