Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 527

It was time to leave. As dictated by etiquette, Jenkins made his rounds in the front hall, bidding farewell to each member of the Hersha family. It was only then he noticed the young woman who had been sitting silently at the far end of the dining table.

No one had introduced her to him, so he assumed she must be a relative of some sort.

She looked somewhat gaunt, and her spirits seemed low; she kept her head bowed throughout the conversations.

When it was his turn to shake the girl's hand, Jenkins turned to Hathaway with a pleasant smile.

A look of sheer astonishment crossed the red-haired girl's face, as if she had just discovered Jenkins was actually a baboon that had learned to talk.

"You noticed her... I mean, this is my cousin. Ma... Marianna Francis."

Hathaway's expression was incredibly strange—terrified, even. Jenkins couldn't fathom what was happening. He glanced at Countess Hersha, who nodded with a somewhat vacant look.

"Yes, she's my sister's daughter. She's staying with us for a while."

Jenkins looked back at Hathaway, who blinked frantically. The message was clear: Don't ask.

Who is this girl? he wondered. Hathaway is even compelling her own mother to acknowledge her.

He suspected Hathaway was being threatened, but the silent, gaunt girl was just an ordinary person. At this distance, his Eye of Reality couldn't possibly fail.

I've already had the misfortune of running into an illegal sacrifice today, surely my luck can't get any worse, he thought. Speaking of which, the Church has probably found the site by now. I just hope John doesn't catch a cold lying out there in the woods.

With these thoughts running through his mind, he extended his right hand to the young woman. "Well then, goodbye, Miss Francis."

"Goodbye, Baron Williams."

Her voice was crisp and clear, naturally suited for singing. Though her appearance was plain, Jenkins felt an unexpected sense of warmth toward her. This only reinforced his belief that she was just an ordinary girl. He thanked the earl's family for their invitation, arranged a time with Hathaway to discuss their opera, and then boarded his carriage to head home.

As she watched the carriage depart, Hathaway cast a discreet glance at Miss Francis. The young woman shook her head slightly. She didn't open her mouth, but her voice materialized directly in Hathaway's mind:

"A very interesting man, indeed."

The sky had been overcast when he was speaking with the earl, but now, as he left, two full moons hung in a night sky that had cleared for the first time in what felt like ages. Still, dark clouds lingered on the horizon, threatening to drift back at any moment.

The installation of gas lines in Nolan City was proceeding at a brisk pace. As he passed the intersection of Minnis Pedestrian Street, Jenkins even saw a row of newly erected lampposts. They weren't in use yet, but it wouldn't be more than a week at most.

The carriage dropped Jenkins at the corner of his street and departed. As he was getting his keys out, he was surprised to see a black carriage parked in front of the widow's house next door. It was positioned so awkwardly that it completely blocked the gate to her garden. He couldn't imagine what the driver had been thinking.

"Don't tell me she's due today," he thought. "No, when I saw her the other day, she looked to be only five months along."

He realized his fears were unfounded the moment he stepped inside. Chocolate hadn't destroyed the kitchen. When he opened the door, the cat was lying obediently on the doormat, right next to his slippers.

Seeing Jenkins looking down, the cat stood, gave a soft meow, and sauntered over to weave between his legs, rubbing gently against his trousers.

It was rare to see Chocolate act this way. Jenkins crouched down, suspicious, and scratched under its chin with his index finger. The cat immediately narrowed its eyes, tilted its head back, and started to purr.

"What have you been up to?"

The cat's unusual behavior only made Jenkins more worried. He hung his greatcoat on the rack and, still in his slippers and white shirt, hurried down to the basement. He retrieved all the items hidden in the small compartment and brought them up to the living room.

After a careful inspection, he found nothing missing, nor were there any telltale teeth marks.

"Maybe I'm just overthinking this," he muttered.

He sighed and leaned back against the sofa. With a flick of his right hand, a jet of flame shot out and ignited the fireplace with a soft whoosh.

"Want a little something to eat?"

He asked his cat, which immediately began to nuzzle his right hand—its signal for wanting a sweet treat.

Jenkins finally relaxed as he watched Chocolate stand obediently on the table, licking food from a bowl. He carefully replayed the events of the afternoon and evening in his mind, ensuring there were no holes in his story, and began rehearsing what he would say when someone from the Church inevitably arrived.

With John in trouble, the Church was bound to notify him. It was shaping up to be another sleepless night.

As he wove his web of lies, his eyes drifted absently over the items on the table. They swept past the Unshadowed Lamp and settled on the Ouija board. An interesting thought popped into his head.

"I wonder if anyone died near this house in the past," he mused. "I never did ask about the area's history before I moved in."

The thought sparked his curiosity. He had nothing better to do at the moment, so he placed the small statues into their grooves and casually rested his fingers on the planchette.

Chocolate's eyes darted toward the entryway, where the chain of a pocket watch, peeking from the coat pocket, was vibrating at an astonishing rate.

"Respond to my call, O spirits wandering the void!" ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ Novᴇl_Fire(.)net

He murmured. For a second, he thought perhaps no one had ever died on his street, because nothing happened.

But a moment later, his heart began to hammer in his chest as if he'd been shocked. A powerful suction erupted from his fingertips, siphoning nearly half of Jenkins's spirit into the Ouija board.

His arm snapped back as if on a spring and he recoiled, just as the Ouija board on the table began to spew choking white smoke.

First, the four statues crumbled into fragments under the high-frequency vibrations. Then, a blood-like liquid began to seep from the cluster of decorative tombstones on the board's surface.

The densely packed names inscribed upon it began to blur, and the two uncanny smiling and crying faces in the upper corners twisted into terrifying, wailing visages.

The bloody fluid spilled over the tabletop and onto the carpet as the board began to jump and clatter violently. A few seconds later, a crack appeared in its center, spreading like a spiderweb across the entire surface.

He thought he heard a shrill howl, and then, with a soft crack, the board shattered completely.

Jenkins crouched on the sofa, gasping for breath. On the corner of the table, the cat merely narrowed its eyes.

Jenkins's heart began to race again as a single, eye-shaped droplet of golden liquid suddenly shot out from the pile of unrecognizable wooden splinters.