Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 536

Chocolate pressed the pearl beneath its paw. Outside the cloud cover, the twin moons, one red and one blue, dimmed for a barely perceptible instant.

The cat remained crouched, nudging the pearl with its right forepaw before lifting its head to gaze at the moons again.

In the end, Chocolate just let out a lazy cry and did nothing more. It lowered its head, swallowed the pearl, and leaped back onto the counter, curling up on its personal cushion. When Jenkins and Papa Oliver returned to the front of the shop, the cat merely cracked open one eye to glance at them, as if nothing at all had happened.

Until the lockdown on St. George Avenue was lifted, the batch of old books would be stored in Papa Oliver's warehouse. He advised Jenkins to either sell the three rare volumes or them to the Church, insisting it was far too dangerous to keep them in the house.

At five in the afternoon, Bevanna arrived in a carriage to personally escort Jenkins. Papa Oliver accompanied them, though he rode in a separate carriage.

During the silver vertigo incident, the Holy See had dispatched personnel to support Nolan. Most of these individuals were still in the city; only a few had returned to Bel Diran with the second Doomsday Document aboard the airship.

Shortly after the "plague," traces of vampires had appeared in Nolan City, prompting the Holy See to extend their stay in the diocese. The unexpected appearance last week of the Evil God's Scion, who had escaped from New Truman City, had even led the Holy See to consider sending more reinforcements to Nolan.

In any case, it was these forces who once again guarded Jenkins's carriage on the road. Fortunately, the journey was peaceful this time, with no encounters with cultists, illegal organizations, or any of Jenkins's acquaintances.

The natural spirit of the forest seeped outward, and a pale yellow grassland had already begun to form around the valley. It was sure to become the premier destination for a spring outing next year.

The Evergreen Forest was now under the joint jurisdiction of five churches, but it was clear that arrangements had been made for today's event. As they disembarked from the carriage and followed the small path toward the center of the forest, they saw only priests and Scribes from the Inherited Sage Church.

A snow had fallen here a few days prior, but it had quickly melted, turning the soil to mud. Though stone slabs had been laid along the path, the group still proceeded with caution, their steps tentative as they tested the ground.

Only Jenkins, walking in the middle of the group, felt a long-lost sense of ease. He took deep, steady breaths, a faint smile on his face. His boots on the ground felt as comfortable as walking on the carpet in his own living room, and the air was filled with the distinct, refreshing fragrance of plant life.

He stretched languidly, his raised hand brushing against a vine dangling from a tree. Looking up, he saw a squirrel perched on a higher branch, clutching a pinecone. It stared down at Jenkins until a certain cat made a threatening sound. The squirrel hastily scurried away, clambering up the branches, but not before dropping the pinecone for Jenkins.

Miss Bevanna, walking beside Jenkins, naturally noticed the exchange. A gentle smile graced her lips, but she said nothing.

"I'm surprised to see a squirrel this time of year," Jenkins remarked, turning the pinecone over in his hand.

"There is plenty of food here," Miss Bevanna explained. "Though there were no small animals at first, some have migrated from afar after noticing the conditions here."

"But I thought squirrels were animals that hibernate. Can an abundance of food really change a hereditary trait like that?" Googlᴇ search novel-fire.net

"This forest is highly unusual. The creatures that live here for any length of time all undergo changes, to one degree or another. Such an effect couldn't be achieved by a vast amount of natural spirit alone. The New God Cultist must have caused some kind of unrepeatable accident."

Listening to Miss Bevanna's explanation, Jenkins nodded with a look of dawning comprehension. He, too, believed the forest's creation was an unrepeatable accident. While the [Life's Breath] ritual could be performed again, he would never find such an immense source of life energy to serve as its catalyst.

The path wound its way through the dense woods, with trees and undergrowth obscuring the view ahead.

Soon, however, the path opened into a clearing. A small gap had been cleared in the giant tree's canopy, allowing the setting sun to cast its rays across the tranquil meadow, where the shimmering surface of a pool reflected the orange light.

The ritual was scheduled for the very moment the sun disappeared completely, so they had some time to prepare.

Keepers of Secrets and their apprentices, dressed in white ceremonial robes, stood beside the meadow. The children of the choir sat to one side, led by a nun.

There were many familiar faces, too many for Jenkins to greet one by one. He gazed toward the distant pool and then looked up. The inverted, human-shaped form made of pure white light—the Saint's Shadow—still hovered in the air.

It wasn't motionless but was rotating on its axis at an incredibly slow speed. Although everyone who spoke of this white phantom mentioned an inexplicable sense of the divine, Jenkins felt nothing of the sort.

He couldn't quite recall what had happened that day and could only speculate as to the shadow's origin. According to the Church's records, praying to the Saint's Shadow or performing rituals in its vicinity greatly enhanced their effects. But Jenkins had no followers to speak of—or rather, the followers people believed existed were, in fact, himself.

"Maybe I should try praying to myself sometime," he mused, then caught himself. "Wait a second, I don't even have any of my own divine arts."

The massive security detail had no chance to prove its worth. When a Keeper of Secrets, checking his pocket watch, announced the start of the baptism, no incidents occurred.

The children of the choir stood in three rows and began to softly chant a hymn. The priests, all in identical white robes, formed two lines, creating a path across the meadow that led to the pool.

Jenkins stood at the beginning of the path, watching as the grand sunset stretched everyone's shadows long across the grass. Nearby, he could hear the children's innocent voices, and in the distance hung the white figure above the pool.

"Why does this feel so much like a cult sacrifice?"

The thought struck him as bizarre, and he shook his head to dispel the strange notion.

He set Chocolate down on the grass to roam freely. Though the children in the choir looked at the cat with hopeful eyes as they sang, it chose not to go in their direction.

Instead, it padded across the grass to Papa Oliver, then swiftly climbed the tree behind him. It settled among the branches, its head peeking out, watching the events unfold on the meadow below.