Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 530

Miss Bevanna didn't allow Jenkins to get a closer look at the small knife, and she certainly wouldn't be drawing it from its sheath. It was a matter of safety.

Jenkins sighed. Since the Evil God Scion was using a mortal body to be reborn, it still had to undergo a proper birth. He couldn't imagine ordinary scissors being able to sever the umbilical cord of such a divine entity, which made it necessary to kill a powerful Benefactor to obtain a blade that could.

"Besides this dagger, we've also found traces of other special items that have gone missing over the last six months. It's obvious that those people made thorough preparations to ensure the scion was born into a human body."

"Then what about New Truman City..."

Jenkins froze, realizing that something had been wrong with the incident a few months ago.

"That was a trap, meant to make us believe the scion's birth had failed and that they were forced to flee. In truth, their goal from the very beginning was to have it reborn here in Nolan. I imagine you remember A-12-4-6701, the [Shard of Death's Cloak]."

The item had originally been in the possession of the city's Church of Death and End, but it was stolen several months ago.

"It's highly likely the item was used as the scion's swaddling cloth after its birth. They planned this from the start, which explains why their attempt in New Truman City failed so bizarrely."

"They're still in Nolan... The Orthodox Churches are prepared to call upon the gods to descend at a moment's notice."

This came from the Keeper of Secrets, who had been silent until this point. It seemed everyone was prepared for the worst.

On the surface, at least, Jenkins's role in this affair was merely the 'unfortunate' coincidence of living next door to the widow.

The investigation so far revealed that Mrs. Margaret's house, her basement, and even the soil beneath had all been treated with supernatural forces to create an environment perfectly suited for the scion's birth. Jenkins had only moved to St. George Street a few months prior, when the plan was already underway. He was, it seemed, simply unlucky.

Besides, no actual fight had broken out the previous night; the only damage was a window shattered by a stone. As such, the Church didn't connect the incident to Jenkins. After all, he was always running into this kind of bad luck.

The events of that night were more or less smoothed over, but the matter from Sunday afternoon still had to be addressed.

Jenkins wrote up Earl Hersha's proposal in a report and submitted it directly to Bishop Parrold. As for John, Papa Oliver would inform him of the situation directly.

The incident was described as an accidental illegal sacrifice, with the biggest surprise being the appearance of a New God Cultist—the Twin Demons.

"John is fine; he went home this morning. I told Robert and Mary that you have important business to handle at the church and won't be able to return for a while."

Papa Oliver told him.

Though he asked, Jenkins knew perfectly well that the worst fate his brother could have suffered was catching a cold.

"He's fine, but the Church is not... With the New God Cultists and the Evil God Scion happening at the same time, we're already feeling overwhelmed. The latter is more serious, so we've had to ease up on our investigation into the New God Cultists for now. May the Sage protect Nolan City!"

Papa Oliver concluded with a cry, but Jenkins felt nothing but pessimism.

Unlike the New God Cultists, who were as intangible and unseen as shadows, the bizarre phenomena on St. George Street the previous night had been witnessed by quite a few citizens. Soothing public fears wasn't Jenkins's problem, but for safety reasons, the entire street was temporarily sealed off. Residents were forced to move out, and even Jenkins had to gather his things and take up temporary residence at the church.

Stuck in the church that Monday, Jenkins suddenly realized he hadn't spent much time at the antique shop recently. Today was no different; Papa Oliver had decided to close the shop for the day to supervise Jenkins's 'rest' at the church. In reality, he was probably just afraid Jenkins would wander off and accidentally stumble into some other city-destroying disaster.

The logic was flawed, of course. Even if Jenkins didn't run into these things, they would still exist. But Papa Oliver wasn't a man who enjoyed debating logic with Jenkins, and his angry expression was truly terrifying.

Chocolate, on the other hand, was enjoying itself. It went about its daily routine of watching over the Fantasy Flower seeds. By now, even some of the nuns knew that the small patch in the garden belonged to Mr. Williams's cat, so they took extra care in watering and weeding that particular spot.

But the flower bud in the pot back home hadn't grown at all, leading Jenkins to believe Chocolate's efforts were futile. Those seeds would surely never sprout, let alone blossom.

It was a truly dull day. Confined within the church, Jenkins spent the afternoon with Papa Oliver doing a final proofread of 'The Tale of Ice and Snow,' after which he was called over to help assemble a spare steam engine.

Jenkins had no idea why they had suddenly asked for his help, but he found the process of fitting the parts together genuinely interesting. When the fascinating task was complete, however, he was plunged into an even deeper state of boredom.

Seeing Jenkins sitting on a bench in the cloister, watching Chocolate bat a bead around in the distance, Papa Oliver walked over, sat down beside him, and handed him a comb.

"Hm? Is my hair a mess?"

"Don't be silly. This is your spoil of war from that incident you reported last week. Have you forgotten? The Love Comb! It was just officially designated today—B-10-02-3491, the Curse of the Love Comb!" The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novel⟡fire.net

Jenkins blinked. It was indeed the comb that had possessed a blue spiritual aura. Its design was quite plain—thicker in the middle and tapering at the ends—but the teeth were set unusually close together. Above them was a single, red, rune-like symbol.

It didn't feel like wood, but Jenkins couldn't guess what material had been used to make it.

Papa Oliver answered, a wistful expression on his face as he gazed at the comb in Jenkins's hand.

"It's made from ten percent elderwood, sixty-three percent lovebird skulls, fifteen percent human bone, and twelve percent bone from some unknown creature. Oh, you probably don't know about lovebirds. They're a species that's long been extinct in the material world. Their only supernatural ability was to bless relationships. I can't imagine the circumstances under which this comb was created, but you must understand—its purpose is no longer to bless. It's to curse."