Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 520

John was wearing a loose black coat and a pair of bell-bottoms, a style currently in vogue among the youth. The buttons on his shirt had clearly been replaced; from the look of them, Mary must have picked them out herself.

He immediately spotted Jenkins leaning against a tree, his face stern. John's own face flushed a deep red.

"John Williams! Why are you here? As I recall, that's not what you said at the dinner table last night."

Jenkins was surprised by the severity of his own voice.

John looked utterly mortified.

"I ran into Mother at the post office this afternoon. She asked me to bring the textbook you left at home to Sal Five-Star Avenue. Do you have any idea how shameful it is to lie, John? I'm ashamed of you!"

The young man was speechless. He hung his head and walked over to his brother, quietly enduring the rebuke that made him want to crawl into a hole.

"Because... everyone else was coming..." Orıginal content can be found at novel{f}ire.net

John explained in a small voice.

He replied in an even quieter voice. He paused for a moment, then added before Jenkins could speak again, "And... Miss Hood was coming too..."

Jenkins froze for a second before he remembered who John was talking about.

Since their older brother, Newman Williams, was rarely home, John had sometimes shared his secrets with Jenkins—at least, before a certain cuckoo had taken over the nest.

Among those secrets was his crush on his classmate, Jennifer Hood.

The writer was at a loss for words. He had no experience with these kinds of things.

"Is this the first time you've all skipped class to come out here?"

John kept his head down, taking a long moment before answering, "No. It's the third time."

Jenkins clicked his tongue and let out a cold snort, mostly because he had no idea how to handle the situation. But he quickly came up with an idea:

"I expect you to go home and confess this to Mary and Robert."

John didn't object, perhaps knowing it would be futile.

That was enough. Jenkins didn't have much time; he needed to get back to the city to prepare for the evening's banquet. He bent down, scooped up the cat at his feet, then pulled a few banknotes from his pocket and pressed them into John's hand.

"Go on, head back. Be honest and admit your mistake when you get home. I expect to hear that this has been discussed when I come home next weekend."

John stared at the bills in his hand, at a loss. On the currency, the Queen smiled up at him.

"Pocket money. Take it. My savings are at least greater than Newman's now."

With that taken care of, Jenkins felt a strange sense of pleasure wash over him. He watched with a smile as John walked toward his friends, then plucked a dry leaf from Chocolate's ear. Just as he was about to turn, the chain in his front coat pocket began to vibrate wildly.

The spot where he'd spoken with John wasn't far from the path through the woods, so the trees nearby were quite sparse. He quickly scanned his surroundings but saw no creatures approaching.

He blinked, and in the direction John was walking, a black light, though faint, was strikingly conspicuous.

The chain's vibration meant there was definitely danger nearby. If the people ahead had been strangers, Jenkins would have summoned his unicorn without hesitation, flown out of the area, and returned to the church to organize a party to search the place from top to bottom.

But John was up ahead; he couldn't just turn and leave. Besides, Chocolate didn't seem to sense any danger, and the chain's vibration wasn't frantic. After only a breath of hesitation, he decided to follow them and see what lay ahead.

John and his classmates were not very alert. They had no idea that a grown man with a cat was tailing them.

The group continued forward. Jenkins risked getting closer and even saw John's classmates asking him where he had just been.

The distance was too great; Jenkins could only see John's awkward expression and had to guess the words by reading his lips. It was clearly not a very good excuse. If it had been Jenkins, he would have claimed a sudden stomachache and gone off to take care of some personal business.

In the winter woods, only a few trees still had their leaves, but the thick trunks were more than enough to hide a man of average build.

He followed the energetic group of young people along the path for another half hour before a girl led them off the trail and deeper into the woods. Jenkins guessed she must be Miss Madison, the daughter of the woods' owner; otherwise, she wouldn't be so familiar with the area.

Their direction of travel was the same as the source of the black aura Jenkins had seen. They reached their destination around four in the afternoon. Above the trees ahead, he could see the distant dome of a ruined church.

As he drew closer, he saw that it was an abandoned church standing in the middle of a clearing. Its walls, pillars, and dome were all made of what looked to be high-quality stone, but it was so dilapidated that only half of a door, riddled with a large hole, remained.

From Jenkins's vantage point, he could see inside through the door. Pews were strewn about haphazardly within the small chapel, and the floor was littered with trash. But there were no cobwebs, nor any sign of settled dust.

A faint black aura seeped from every part of the building. Strangely, the color was much paler than the Cursed Items he had seen before. It was, however, similar in intensity to the aura from the corpse with goat horns impaled on it, which he had found in the basement with the Doomsday Document.

"Is this church a man-made dangerous object? Or the nascent form of a Cursed Item?"

He swallowed hard as he watched the young people walk inside, chatting amongst themselves.

According to the common practices of the Orthodox Churches, buildings like churches and temples held extraordinary religious significance. Even if they were decommissioned for some unavoidable reason, they were never supposed to be left to fall into such complete ruin.

The usual practice was to convert them into charitable institutions or them to be used as orphanages. Even in a desolate, uninhabited place where demolition wasn't feasible, a priest would at least be left to watch over it.

From this, he deduced that the small chapel before him certainly did not belong to any Orthodox Church.

Jenkins waited until everyone was inside before carefully creeping closer. He pressed himself against the wall next to the church door, a position from which he could perfectly overhear what the people inside were saying.