Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1156

"Jenkins, there's a new orange tree in the church courtyard. Do you happen to know anything about that?"

The question came early on Thursday morning. Jenkins, his mind still preoccupied with Rynsarm's worn-out storybook, was caught off guard by Papa Oliver's abrupt inquiry.

Jenkins paused for a moment, then gave an embarrassed smile.

"I knew it was you," Papa Oliver grumbled, peeling a hard-boiled egg. "While I appreciate your desire to contribute to the church's landscaping, if you really want to plant a tree, you'd be better off not choosing an orange tree. I've never heard of anyone using them for ornamental purposes."

He was still fuming about Jenkins "raising" the Wayward Butterfly in the shop, which lent a sharp edge to his words.

"I still don't understand why Old Jack would give you something so dangerous. Perhaps I should ask him the next time I write. He probably still harbors the idea of making you his apprentice."

"He gave me that beautiful butterfly because I helped him catch more of them," Jenkins replied.

The glass jar containing the Wayward Butterfly currently sat on the nightstand in his room at the church, where Chocolate would observe it daily. Of course, Jenkins was certain the cat's interest was anything but scientific... or magical, for that matter.

"I think you'd best dispose of it as soon as possible," Papa Oliver advised, neatly stacking the broken eggshells on the corner of his plate. "Whether you use it as a ritual component, sell it on the black market, or even feed it to Chocolate, it's far too dangerous to keep around." The cat nodded its head rapidly, and Jenkins suspected it had understood Papa Oliver's suggestion perfectly.

Jenkins thought Papa Oliver was overreacting to the Wayward Butterfly, but he couldn't deny the logic in his concerns. It seemed the poor little creature's time with him was destined to be short.

After lunch, Miss Bevanna sent word that the Saint Son of the Church of Creation and Machinery would be meeting with him that afternoon.

The meeting wasn't to be held at the Sage's Church. A visit from the Saint Son of another church was a major event that required extensive preparations. But with everyone stretched thin, there was simply no time for ceremony. Instead, the afternoon meeting was arranged at a café near the church, with an entire Scribe squad assigned to Jenkins's security detail.

With some time to spare in the morning, Jenkins chatted with Fini for a while about the next day's funeral before returning to his room to continue studying Halama Rynsarm's fairytale book.

Papa Oliver's ban on his activities would be lifted tomorrow, and he still had to visit Hathaway and Briny. He anticipated being very busy, so it was best to resolve the matter of "The Stranger" as quickly as possible.

He had spent the past few days "recuperating" at the church, flipping through the book more than once. It was a collection of rather grim, realistic fairytales, its literary merit paling in comparison to his own "Stranger's Story Collection." The book had a very faint spiritual aura, but its only truly unusual property was that it couldn't be damaged.

The Sage's Church had the most thorough methods for studying books, with countless techniques and secrets for uncovering hidden information. But none of the standard approaches worked on this volume. The fact that old Mr. Rynsarm had owned it for thirty years without discovering its secret was definitely not due to bad luck or a lack of intellect.

"Perhaps I should try dripping my blood on it," Jenkins mused aloud. "But that's a bit risky. What if the book is cursed?"

Nearby, the cat squinted one eye, laboriously gnawing on the ring that sealed the Disaster Stone, too preoccupied to entertain Jenkins's wild idea.

"Maybe I should give it a try," he decided.

He quickly found the small silver knife used for drawing ritual arrays. After a simple disinfection, he made a small cut on his finger with the sharp blade. But when the drop of blood landed on the page, it did nothing more than make the book look even more tattered.

"So it's not that simple, after all..."

Sucking on his finger, Jenkins sank back into thought. His gaze fell upon the illustration on the cover—a lone traveler, his back to the reader, walking into a vast, desolate plain of snow. He had always felt this image was the key.

Chocolate temporarily gave up on the ring, leaping onto the bed to stare at the butterfly in the jar. The butterfly, as if startled, dropped to the bottom of the jar and froze. The cat's eyes were filled with malice.

"The Stranger... could the figure on the cover be The Stranger? Am I supposed to enter the cover and talk to him? But that's impossible. It can't be that straightforward."

Jenkins slowly channeled his Spirit into the book, but still, there was no reaction. Next, he summoned his monocle and, with his Eye of Reality activated, pressed his face almost against the book's cover to examine it.

This had some effect. A faint spiritual glow at the bottom of the cover, where the author's name should have been, revealed a line of text:

"The night bestows its gift upon the traveler; the knight's sword fells the flying bird—such is the story of autumn." Latest content publıshed on N0velFire.ɴet

"A knight's sword, in the alchemy I've only brushed upon, symbolizes mercury," Jenkins reasoned, his mind racing. "And felling the flying bird... in potion-making, that's a well-known process: 'triple evaporation and condensation, then evenly coat.' A story of autumn... autumn is most closely associated with the Righteous God, the 'Trackless Traveler.' In the Traveler's church, a story of autumn symbolizes a lone traveler reciting poetry by a bonfire, a theme with a famous religious tale corresponding to it. The night bestows its gift... the time must be night."

He paused for a moment, then summarized his thoughts:

"At night, coat the surface of this book with triple-distilled mercury, then, alone by a fire, recite what is seen... Damn it, besides me, who else could possibly see a hint ? This is absurdly difficult. Then again, perhaps certain ocular abilities or rituals could allow other Enchanters to temporarily perceive the spiritual glow."

He quickly grew confident in his deductions. The last story in the book indicated that the previous owner of "The Stranger" was a devout follower of the Trackless Traveler, as well as an expert in alchemy and potion-making. It all lined up with the coded message.

This meant Jenkins simply had to wait for midnight. Preparing the mercury wouldn't be particularly troublesome.

He felt as though he had solved a major puzzle, though he suspected that reading the book at midnight might lead to even more trouble. But that was a problem for later.

That afternoon, he arrived promptly at the café near the church to meet the Saint Son of another god, Mr. Matthew Gleve.