Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1124

Feeling worse than ever, Jenkins glanced down at the cat beside him, blinking rapidly in the hopes that it could read his mind.

"Meow~" For origınal chapters go to novel(ꜰ)ire.net

Chocolate looked up at Jenkins innocently, its fur soaked through and plastered to its face, making it seem much thinner. It was just an ordinary little cat, after all. How could it possibly understand such a complicated message?

A sudden voice made him turn. The Rain Man was stepping out of a murky puddle, completely whole. Though he had shed the skin he’d used to impersonate Papa Oliver, his body was perfectly intact, showing no sign of the beheading Jenkins had delivered just half a minute before.

"That's a powerful sword," the Rain Man remarked. "It seems the payment I demanded from those mortals was still too little."

Of course it was too little. The cultists of the Dead Man's Whip probably assumed the most powerful being in the city was the dragon in the Evergreen Forest, or some demigod from the Orthodox Church, or perhaps one of the meddlesome followers of the God of Lies. They never would have imagined that the young writer was hiding such an important identity.

"I once possessed a black spear capable of wounding souls," Jenkins bluffed, his mind racing. "A pity it's not in my hands now, otherwise I'd be very keen to see if it could harm you."

Jenkins spoke boldly, his mind racing for a way out of this stalemate. He had his divinity, but he was reluctant to use it just yet; it was his last resort against the heretical god's angel. The only other way he could think of to deal with the immortal Rain Man required him to return home, but that was currently impossible.

With a flash of resolve, he leaped into the downpour again. Once he was close enough, his mind reached into the void, and strange, emerald vines tore through the air. But before they could ensnare the Rain Man, the creature dissolved into a puddle of water and vanished into the rain, reappearing an instant later on the roof of the tailor shop across the street.

The Rain Man’s featureless face turned toward Jenkins. If he had a mouth and eyes, they would surely be twisted into an expression too complex for words to capture. "This is... It seems the price I asked for was indeed far too low."

Over the next half hour, Jenkins tried various methods to escape the storefront, but the Rain Man thwarted him every time. The creature's direct combat strength wasn't overwhelming, but its ability to control the rain was incredibly frustrating. And it wasn't just an illusion—it seemed that within the downpour, he could influence the very rules of the world. Jenkins had discovered this by chance when he was about to risk using [Mechanical Light], and the Rain Man had clearly sensed that his opponent was preparing for a desperate, final gamble.

This was undoubtedly one of the most powerful Cursed Items Jenkins had ever encountered. What made it even more unnerving was that it hardly seemed like a Cursed Item at all. He could look upon its form without feeling that abyssal, mind-shattering terror, and even the ambient mental corruption it emitted was negligible.

The only caveat was that any rain he touched became toxic and had to be boiled before it was safe to drink. Jenkins recalled that detail from a file he had read.

Time passed quickly, and soon it was noon. The sun, naturally, was hidden by the storm clouds that blanketed Nolan, and a sinister chill seemed to creep into the wind.

Jenkins stood outside the antique shop, leaning wearily against the door. He’d only just noticed that his cat had vanished. It had probably gone off to hunt for a meal, he figured, since it was well past lunchtime.

He still had no good ideas for an escape and could only take a moment to rest and recover from the exhausting battle in the rain. The creature on the opposite roof—unkillable, though not immune to damage—was practically invincible. Worse, it was even more cautious than Jenkins himself. After the first failed attempt with [Blasphemous Creation], it had refused to come anywhere near him.

"I say, this is a waste of everyone's ti—"

He broke off mid-sentence, stunned. He strode out from under the awning into the street, tilting his head back to let the rain lash against his face. The Rain Man, having sensed the same disturbance, also looked up. In a moment of unspoken accord, both he and Jenkins turned their gazes to the city’s east.

Beneath a patch of inky clouds, an explosion of absolute darkness and golden spiritual light erupted simultaneously. The curtain of rain blurred the city and the distant horizon, but Jenkins could just make out a colossal figure standing at the edge of the world. Its immense, terrifyingly twisted silhouette looked like fear itself, condensed from the chaos of the abyss, or some ancient monster roused from an eon of slumber at the bottom of the sea.

In the blink of an eye, the shadow on the horizon was gone. In its place, pillars of light erupted from every part of the city, reaching for the heavens. Mortals could not perceive these twenty columns, but Jenkins saw them clearly, scattered across every district.

As the tattoos on the bodies of various aberrations flared like torches, the pinpoints of light across the city connected, forming a vast and intricate ritual array.

The rain began to fall even harder.

Jenkins gazed at the distant darkness, a single thought echoing in his mind. But he truly hadn't expected there to be twenty.

The complete learning ritual for the [Exotic Tide] required five tattoos. Twenty pillars meant that four rituals had been performed.

"But how is that possible? The old elf told me there were nearly a hundred tattoos, and of the pieces of the umbilical cord—the essential offering to summon the angel—I only failed to secure a single one. I could understand if five pillars of light appeared, or even a hundred, but why twenty?"

"To form the four elements. Truly remarkable. The mortals of this era have even less reverence than I imagined. Four Slaughter Angels of the highest echelon, corresponding to earth, wind, water, and fire, descending directly into the material world... this is a momentous event indeed. Moreover, because of the special nature of their summoning, they can be loosely classified as Cursed Items, which means they will also be amplified by my influence. Tsk, tsk, tsk..."

The Rain Man on the opposite roof had heard Jenkins's muttering and began to explain.

A wave of realization washed over Jenkins, the fog in his mind clearing in an instant. Hearing the Rain Man's explanation, he finally understood. Among the nearly one hundred tattoos that had been distributed, there must have been duplicates. The cultists of the Dead Man's Whip had intended to summon four angels all along—that was why the God's Child Umbilical Cord had been split into four pieces. It was no coincidence.

The reason the 'fire' series of tattoos was so numerous, and had been discovered by the Church multiple times, was likely because the cultists intended to channel the greatest amount of power into the fire angel. To prevent any accidents, they had given tattoos to a multitude of 'fire' aberrations.

"But where did they get the bridge to sustain the angels' power?"

He shouted the question to the Rain Man, who was still gazing at the horizon. To Jenkins's surprise, the creature actually answered.