Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 1207

That night, churches across the continent, whether they had ties to the northern kingdom or not, received word from the Holy See. A disaster was taking shape, one that could threaten the entire world.

Jenkins, traveling against the advance of the Snowman Legion, had not even covered a third of the distance after a full night on the move. His destination lay in the true far north, a city even more remote than Spa Town.

After a night's rest, he boarded a train along with more than two hundred Enchanters from eight local churches. The constant noise of the journey made it difficult to sleep, but he knew he had to be well-rested.

Chocolate didn't seem to have slept well either. As Jenkins, clad in his pajamas, read under the dim light of a kerosene lamp, the cat let out a few soft mews from time to time. He couldn't just relax after dinner; the Church had provided him with a mountain of files on the Snowman Legion. He needed to absorb all of it before reaching the front lines. It was vital information—at the very least, he would know what kind of monstrosities he was about to face.

"How did it come to this? I only came to the northern kingdom by accident. How did I suddenly end up on my way to stop a disaster that could wipe out all of humanity?"

He stewed in his thoughts, the clack-clack of the train a constant rhythm in the background as he flipped through the documents on his desk, the light above swaying with the motion.

A light snow had begun to fall in the evening and continued through the night, the train never leaving the area of snowfall. It was not a good omen. The power of the Snowman Legion was already influencing the climate of the continent's northern regions, suggesting their strength might far exceed current estimates.

The reality proved to be even worse than Jenkins had anticipated. He had boarded the train bound for the front lines on Tuesday night, but the journey wouldn't even last a single evening before coming to an abrupt, violent halt.

It was just before dawn on Wednesday. Jenkins was asleep in his bed, a brown-covered book titled "Ice and Snow: Ancient Elemental Mysteries" resting on his face.

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The cat, curled up beside Jenkins with its head nearly touching his cheek, let out a sleepy sound. Bleary-eyed, Chocolate sleepily lifted its head, raised a tiny paw to rub its eyes, and then tilted its head to look toward the front of the moving train.

It called again, reaching out a paw to pat Jenkins's face. Jenkins wasn't chubby, but the cat's pat was firm enough to press into his cheek.

"Go back to sleep. It's not breakfast time yet."

Jenkins mumbled, not fully awake. It was a purely instinctual response; he had no real awareness of what was happening.

He raised a hand to swat vaguely at the cat before rolling over to face the other way. The movement sent the book sliding off his face and onto the floor with a loud thud, but Jenkins knew it wasn't time to get up yet. He simply curled up under the covers, back to the cat, still lost to sleep.

The cat gave Jenkins's back an exasperated look before standing up on all fours. It trotted to the edge of the bed to peer at the fallen book, then hopped over the mountain of blankets to once again position itself in front of Jenkins's face.

It cried out in a tiny, plaintive voice, reaching a paw toward Jenkins's nose.

Jenkins grumbled, brushing its paw away again. He tugged at the blanket, pulling it up to cover half his face.

Chocolate sat quietly in front of him, its amber eyes watching him for a moment before it gave up trying to wake the man.

It just sat there, looking from Jenkins to the front of the train and back, occasionally lifting a paw to groom its face.

Clack-clack... clack-clack...

The rhythmic clatter of the steam train was an annoying but familiar background noise, one you could eventually tune out and sleep through. But this sound was different. It was suddenly much louder, the rhythm gone, replaced by a violent, jarring screech—like the cars up ahead were being torn from the tracks.

Jenkins's mind, still hovering between sleep and waking, couldn't immediately distinguish dream from reality. But in the next instant, his train car lurched violently. He was thrown from the bed, and the entire room—everything that could move and everything that couldn't—tilted sharply to the left.

His eyes snapped open. With his excellent dynamic vision, he could see the viscous liquid arcing out of his teacup, could see the cat still frozen in a sitting posture as it flew through the air.

Jenkins reacted instinctively, reaching out to snatch the cat and tuck it under his arm.

His body tumbled through the air as gravity and momentum sent him and the train car plunging sideways and down.

He yelled, leaving an afterimage in his place as he activated [Cat's Grace] and shot downward with incredible agility.

He kicked off the wall of the carriage, using the force to spin around. He saw the afterimage above him vanish—it had remained stationary while the carriage continued its fall.

His right hand shot out, grabbed a flying pillow, and stuffed the cat inside. Then he shouted:

"Hang on, Chocolate! I'll be right back!"

He vanished abruptly from the falling carriage. Due to the complex forces at play, the subsequent cars didn't follow the exact same trajectory, so when Jenkins replaced his afterimage, he found himself suspended in mid-air.

The frigid wind made him shudder in his thin pajamas and bare feet. Before him was the horrifying sight of the train derailing on a massive river bridge. A fifth of the cars had already plunged toward the chasm below, and the rest were clearly destined to follow.

"I'm just a Level 5 Enchanter!"

He exclaimed as he fell. In the midst of his descent, an Ice Bowman, wreathed in blue and white frost, materialized behind him.

She gave Jenkins a powerful shove upward, launching him high into the air before vanishing. As he reached the peak of his ascent, the Ice Bowman reappeared behind him, her arm brushing against his as she drew back her bowstring.

The first arrow of blue light shot out, striking the point of contact between the wheels of a car still on the bridge and the track. The arrow didn't cause an explosion but instead formed a thick layer of ice, attempting to freeze the train to the rails. The train's velocity was too great, however, and the ice shattered almost instantly.

But it was enough. The first arrow had slowed the train, and it was immediately followed by a second, then a third, the shafts of light flying as if connected end to end. The continuous stream of blue arrows kept transferring momentum and kinetic energy between the train and the tracks. A deafening, tooth-grinding screech of brakes signaled that it was working.