Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 517

The first thing that sprang to Jenkins’s mind upon hearing the phrase was his own Miss Fabry operation. But he quickly dismissed the thought. Robert was unlikely to have any contact with it, and with his knowledge of the industry, he would have easily seen through the scam even if he had.

Seeing Jenkins lost in thought, Robert pressed on:

“I’m sure you understand that a gold pound only has value when it’s in circulation. Otherwise, it’s just a stack of pretty paper.”

His words were profound.

“I happen to have a few ‘very valuable’ investment opportunities on hand, and they’ll be open for bids soon. If you’re interested, I could pull some strings for you.”

Robert was making it clear that he could influence the mining company’s decisions to a certain degree.

“Besides, you’re a nobleman now. That background is incredibly useful. The tax exemptions alone will make you a far more attractive partner in any venture.”

Jenkins had been considering this very matter recently, though he was still waiting for the inheritance from Mr. Augustus to be fully liquidated. After a moment of thought, he decided it was indeed a good idea and nodded.

“That’s for you to decide. A grown man should have his own plans.”

He spoke like a mature adult, but beneath the table, his hands were surreptitiously refilling his glass with the amber liquid from the bottle. Mary, still engrossed in the conversation, failed to notice her husband's childish antics.

Jenkins knew that as soon as this conversation ended and a lull fell over the dinner table, Mary would inevitably broach the subject of marriage. So, after dismissing the idea of using Chocolate as a new topic, he decided to steer the conversation in another direction.

He lowered his head, focusing on the steak on his plate, and asked with feigned casualness:

“How has John been lately? If I recall, the school’s year-end exams are about to begin.”

“Oh, yes! John, why don't you tell your brother how you're doing.”

Mary loved to watch her sons interact.

“It's going alright. Mrs. Padrick's math class is a bit difficult, but I really enjoy the introductory course on mechanical manufacturing...”

The young man’s tone was somewhat listless, as if he lacked energy. The long days of studying had likely drained him, so his family didn’t chide him for it.

After dinner, Jenkins chatted with Robert in the study for a little longer before getting up to leave. On his way out, Mary gave him a woolen scarf and sweater she had knitted herself, reminding him to take care of his health as it was the height of flu season.

The night wind was bone-chilling. By the time he returned to St. George Avenue, the entire street was dark, not a single gas light shining from any of the houses.

He hunched his shoulders against the cold, unlocked the door, and hurried inside. But the house, its fireplace unlit all day, was not much warmer.

After a quick wash, he wrapped himself in a blanket and settled onto the sofa in front of the fireplace. Chocolate was still fairly energetic; it was another hour until the cat’s bedtime.

With nothing else to do for the evening, he spent the time before bed proofreading the final draft of "A Tale of Ice and Snow" one last time. He had already written to his publisher, a Mr. Brough, inviting him to pick up the manuscript from Pops Antique Shop the following week. Read complete versıon only at novelꜰire.net

If all went well, the first edition of the book should hit the shelves before the end of the year.

It felt as though he had only just closed his eyes, the crackling of the fire a fresh sound in his ears, when he heard the bell being pulled from outside the courtyard.

Before he could even process what was happening, the visitor had already crossed the small garden, climbed the steps to his porch, and a perfunctory knock echoed through the house.

It was Papa Oliver. Only he had a spare key to Jenkins’s home.

It was two in the morning. Papa Oliver urgently told Jenkins to get dressed and accompany him to the church.

This was clearly an emergency, but not one involving a large number of injured people waiting for his healing.

The incident had begun that morning. Personnel from the Church of Knowledge and Books stationed in the Docklands had discovered a strange bone aboard a small vessel caught fishing illegally.

The bone arrived at the church in the evening. The men in the special items containment office followed standard procedure and sealed it away, awaiting appraisal from the Keeper of Secrets and his apprentices. But in the dead of night, something had gone terribly wrong.

When Papa Oliver and Jenkins arrived at the main gate of the church by carriage, they found the number of guards had at least tripled.

They were only permitted entry after their identities were confirmed. The ordinary clergy had been strictly confined to their quarters, and the only people active in the hallways were Enchanters.

They followed their guide to a courtyard behind the main nave, then along a cloister and through a rear entrance into the grand library.

The once neatly arranged bookshelves had all been pushed against the walls. In the cleared space, at least twenty Scribes knelt on one knee, their hands raised in a supportive gesture. Directly beneath the library’s central dome, a golden sphere floated silently. It was translucent, allowing Jenkins to see the milky-white skeleton encased within.

He had thought it was just a single bone, but the object inside the glowing sphere looked more like the complete skeleton of some unknown creature.

“Miss Bevanna isn’t in Nolan right now,” Papa Oliver whispered. “There are signs of vampires in the countryside, in a town called Victor. We need you to lead the ritual. Besides the Saint, only an Enchanter at the demigod level or higher is qualified.”

Papa Oliver spoke in a low voice. Just then, the Keeper of Secrets, Mr. Smith, approached them, his brow furrowed. Dressed in ceremonial robes, he thrust a slip of paper into Jenkins’s hand.

“Memorize this, quickly,” he urged. “The current seal won’t hold for much longer.”

He quickly set the drowsy kitten aside and lowered his head to read the densely packed text.

“Listen as you read,” Smith said. “I’ll brief you on the situation.”

The Keeper of Secrets spoke with extreme speed as the three of them walked toward the wall. A team of Scribes rushed past them, emerging from a doorway behind them.

“This isn’t some special artifact,” Smith explained. “It’s a part of an incredibly powerful creature’s body.”

Chocolate lazily cracked open one eye, took a glance, and immediately shut it again. The cat wasn’t interested. After all, it was time to sleep.

“Theoretically, a Mysterious Realm has an equal chance of appearing anywhere. On the continent, the Orthodox Churches can detect and deal with them in a timely manner, but it’s far more difficult overseas. As a result, the endless oceans are littered with strange things that have fallen out of these realms. I trust you haven’t forgotten A-10-1-0230, the Parchment from the Future, which we brought back from overseas.”

Jenkins nodded to show he understood.

“This bone must have entered the material world through a Mysterious Realm. At first, it merely exhibited an intense absorbency, so it was temporarily stored in a standard safe. But after nightfall, it suddenly began to show signs of life, broke through its containment, and almost escaped the church. The situation is now perfectly clear: it grows by absorbing moisture. Its current volume is more than ten times what it was when we first secured it!”