Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1154

The thought of the title, "God of Lies and Protector of Flower Girls," sent a sudden chill down Jenkins's spine. He fretted over the awkward appellation, ultimately deciding that the simpler "God of Lies" was not only more formal but also far more dignified. Check latest chapters at novelꞁire.net

In any case, the ripples from Diwo's death had not yet subsided. Whether his demise would affect the distant battle on the high seas, no one could say for sure.

But it would most certainly impact Nolan. Though he hadn't uttered any last words like, "You want my treasure?...", he had left behind a deadly letter.

"It was correspondence between Diwo and the Gear Artisans' Association," old Mrs. Tinawa, the Keeper, explained to Jenkins. "From the contents, it appears Diwo had discovered a special use for a powerful artifact in the Association's possession, and they wanted to purchase that knowledge from him."

But she knew little else. After all, she had only been temporarily recalled to the city due to the recent staff shortages, tasked with escorting the batch of Cursed Items back to the Church.

Curious about the matter, Jenkins waited in Miss Bevanna's office until eleven o'clock at night, when the woman finally returned.

The dreadful night rain showed no signs of letting up. Returning to the Church, Miss Bevanna looked utterly exhausted. The incident with the angel had placed immense pressure on her, and to prevent a recurrence, she felt compelled to be present for the crackdown on the Dead Man's Whip, a mission that normally wouldn't have required her personal involvement.

"Good evening, Jenkins."

The woman removed her greatcoat, hung it on the rack by the door, and sank into the sofa.

Jenkins sat down beside her, extending a finger to rest it on her wrist. An extremely faint green fluorescence glowed where their skin met.

As he used his ability, the woman let out a soft sigh of profound relief.

Soon, a few nuns wheeled in a dinner cart; Miss Bevanna had not yet eaten. After a short rest and a drink of the syrup made from those iridescent sugar granules, she looked much better.

Jenkins wasn't in the habit of eating late, but Chocolate certainly didn't mind an extra midnight snack. Miss Bevanna watched Jenkins's cat pawing at the oily cubes of steak in the man's palm, a gentle smile gracing her lips.

"You seem to have a certain quality that puts people at ease."

Miss Bevanna teased him.

"That's just an illusion," Jenkins replied. "Every time Papa Oliver hears I've been wandering around outside, he's convinced I have a unique talent for stumbling into major trouble."

Today's operation had been reasonably successful; the intelligence was accurate, and the Scribe squad had indeed captured a number of cultists. Miss Bevanna had spent the entire day on the move with the team, though she never had a chance to act. Still, the presence of demigods was a necessary deterrent.

"Besides us, the other churches have taken similar actions. The five major churches have mobilized nearly all their forces. We have no idea if those madmen are still capable of performing another insane ritual to summon an angel."

Though Miss Bevanna hadn't been at the Church, she was well-informed about Diwo. She immediately stated that the animated steam-and-gear giant that appeared by the sea last week was deeply connected to him, and that the appearance of the Believers of Lies was likely just a coincidence.

The Church even suspected that Diwo had stolen something from the Gear Artisans' Association to create such a colossal Cursed Item.

"Diwo and the Association had arranged to meet on the first day of next month—that's next Monday. We don't know what kind of information Diwo possessed, and there were no clues among his belongings. But they'll never have the chance to complete their transaction now. Let that knowledge be buried with him forever."

That didn't sound like something a believer of the Sage would say. Knowledge, even if dangerous, shouldn't be casually discarded but properly preserved. Seeing how exhausted Miss Bevanna was, however, Jenkins kept his thoughts to himself. He privately wondered if the transaction between Diwo and the Gear Artisans' Association was what the "future" had been warning him about.

After all, the timing—the first day of next month—was critical, forcing Jenkins to connect it to the cryptic message from the future.

"Could it be that if the Gear Artisans' Association and Diwo had met, it would have triggered an irreversible disaster?"

Diwo was dead. Unless Jenkins could travel to the future again for another revelation, he wouldn't find an answer anytime soon.

"But I understand one thing, at least. The Gear Artisans' Association's recent silence was anything but normal. What they're searching for underground is even more terrifying than an angel's descent. This isn't over. Diwo's death is just the beginning. I suspect the Association is finally about to emerge from the shadows!"

The week flew by in a blur, unlike any Jenkins could remember. In what felt like the blink of an eye, it was already Thursday, yet the events of Monday still felt as though they had just happened.

After breakfast, he went to see Fini as usual. The girl had grown noticeably thinner in just a few short days. Though her mood seemed stable, Jenkins could sense a sorrow that came from the depths of her heart.

She greeted him politely, and the two stood together in the cloister at the edge of the courtyard, watching the rain. Jenkins worried Fini might catch a cold, but the girl refused his suggestion that she go back inside.

Fini was Jenkins's first believer, a true fanatic at that. He had understood this the moment he acquired the divine domain of "Protector of Flower Girls."

Now, whenever he was close to Fini, or even just closed his eyes and concentrated on her presence, he could hear the jumble of her thoughts and clearly perceive her deepest desires.

And because of that, Jenkins knew the source of the girl's grief.

He wasn't sure, however, if Fini was aware of who she truly worshiped. She carried on with her daily activities at the church, participating in prayers to the Sage and singing hymns in the choir. But every morning and evening, she would also whisper Jenkins's name once or twice in her heart, and he felt it every time.

On Monday, it had been Miss Audrey and Miss Brolignans who brought her back to the Church. The diviners had provided an excellent excuse for Fini's absence during the lockdown, so she had avoided any trouble.

"Sir, do you think Louise can become a star? When I was little, my mother told me that all good people become shining stars in the night sky when they die."

That was, of course, a comforting fantasy mortals told themselves. Aside from the stars that were projections of the Astral Plane into the material world's night sky, all the others represented gods.