Chapter 427: Chapter 427

Jenkins had considered drawing out the fight, perhaps inflicting a few minor wounds on the arrogant young man before claiming victory. But then he remembered he was already bullying the boy, and such an act would tarnish his image as a great author, potentially hurting the sales of his next book. So, he opted for a clean and decisive win.

It wasn't that his swordsmanship was particularly refined; he had only learned the most basic moves from Miss Stuart. But the increase in his Enchanter level had made his body extremely agile and his reflexes incredibly sharp... and besides, his opponent was just that weak.

With the party having reached such a climax, there was no reason to continue. Most of the onlookers felt it had ended too soon, having expected one of those legendary, back-and-forth duels between equals.

The ladies, however, thought it was perfect. To them, a gentlemanly and elegant duel had to be exactly to be truly dashing. Ignoring the loser, whose life now seemed utterly bleak, the women shrieked as Jenkins tried to pass through the crowd, continuously stuffing their handkerchiefs, silk gloves, lipstick, and even earrings into his hands.

By the time Jenkins finally reunited with his cat and casually walked out of the banquet hall, the value of the treasures in his hands was greater than the proceeds from selling illegal magic potions.

"Do I need to return these to them?"

he asked, bewildered.

Miss Windsor hadn't stayed to deal with the aftermath, instead personally escorting Jenkins to his carriage. She gently shook her head, then after a moment's thought, removed her right ruby earring and handed it to him as well.

"What on earth does this mean?"

Duke Douglas Gerrod stepped out, his face etched with worry.

"Thank goodness. Otherwise, I wouldn't have been able to face the Queen. This matter absolutely cannot end . Just you wait!"

The old man slammed his cane into the ground.

Jenkins wasn't particularly bothered by defeating an ordinary man in a duel. He just hoped such incidents wouldn't find their way to his doorstep again.

It was obvious what had happened: someone had put that clueless young man up to it. But regardless of their reasons, they wouldn't come to a good end.

The Church, naturally, was well-informed. When Jenkins returned to the palace he was staying in, cradling his yawning cat, Bishop Strick was already waiting for him.

"My apologies, Saint Williamette, for allowing you to encounter such a sordid affair in Bel Diran."

In private, the man always addressed Jenkins this way.

"This is not your fault. The Sage teaches us to be humble, but that doesn't mean we should take the blame for others' mistakes."

As he spoke, he drew the holy symbol on his chest.

"However, I believe the rest of my weekend in Bel Diran should remain free of further disturbances."

"Of course. I'm certain you will have a delightful weekend here. I wish you pleasant dreams!"

He nodded with a smile and then walked back to his bedroom.

Staying here had many advantages, the most important being that it was nearly impossible for outsiders to break in. But if those living inside wanted to slip out, all they needed was the patrol schedule, the route map, and a certain degree of skill. It was no problem at all.

Jenkins took a short nap, then went into the city with Chocolate and the Ouija board. The room where Higgins's body was stored showed no signs of intrusion; the strand of hair he had left was still in place.

Because so little time had passed since the death, and because this was both the location of the body and the scene of the crime, the Ouija board eagerly went to work almost as soon as he wrote down the name. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ novel★fire.net

The eyes of the four small statues began to glow, and they turned in unison toward the spot where the ghost appeared. Jenkins had only recently discovered their function was to pinpoint a summoned spirit's location—a rather useless feature for someone who possessed the Eye of Reality.

"I want to know why you were looking for this mask."

He posed the question again.

"It was Mr. Hyde who told me to find it."

the transparent spirit replied in a dull voice.

"My guide. He was the one who brought me into the world of Enchanters."

Jenkins nodded. So, the dead man before him was merely a pawn. No wonder he was only level one at his age.

"Tell me everything you know about Mr. Hyde."

"I met Mr. Hyde seven years ago, in the autumn..."

Whether because he had been an Enchanter or because his soul was naturally strong, his spirit's ability to resist the black mist was far greater than that of any spirit Jenkins had encountered before. As a result, he was able to provide much more information.

Before Jenkins finally shattered his soul, he had learned that this "Mr. Hyde" wasn't an Enchanter who frequented Bel Diran. He would typically contact Higgins only once every few months, assigning him a task and offering payment in the form of mystical knowledge.

The man never revealed his true face and always spoke in a disguised voice. He had met with Higgins a week ago and instructed him to go to the "old place" immediately after obtaining the mask.

Higgins didn't know the mysterious Mr. Hyde's true strength, but he knew some of his common aliases. One of them was "Mr. Dagger," because his Spirit Emblem was the shape of a dagger.

"Oh, I think I've heard of this person somewhere."

It wasn't just a fleeting thought. It took Jenkins a long time to recall where. After he and Barnard had made it through their first Mysterious Realm, they had accidentally stumbled into Mr. Hood's secret gathering. The man who had fled that meeting was none other than Mr. Dagger, the one whose Spirit Emblem was shaped like a dagger.

"I didn't expect our paths to cross again."

With a wave of his hand, he incinerated the corpse with fire. After patiently cleaning up any traces at the scene, he returned to the Church, feigning exhaustion.

The news of the public duel between two young noblemen never reached the general public. While there were some whispers in the city, the information was vague and contradictory. And though people loved gossip about the aristocracy, the plague that had broken out in Nolan City was far more pressing news.

Someone was deliberately suppressing the story of that night's duel, and those who knew the truth were too preoccupied to care who it was. The newly-minted Baron Williamette was clearly not without backing. An unknown storm was brewing, a fact that anyone with the slightest sensitivity could feel.