Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 548

"You don't have to repeat my words just to express your surprise, you know."

Pops remarked, not looking up from his newspaper.

Miss Bevanna had left for Greentown to handle that matter, which was precisely why Jenkins had been summoned to the church at dawn last weekend to preside over the ritual.

But even with Miss Bevanna on the case, the murderer still managed to slip away. Fortunately, he hadn't had time to commit any more crimes, so the power he'd drawn from the killings was minimal.

After he fled Greentown, the Church used divination to track him to the mountains east of Nolan. But with the diocese's main forces tied up dealing with the vampires and the Evil God's Child, they had no choice but to shelve the matter for now.

After lunch, Pops asked Jenkins to mind the shop for a bit while he went to the church to pick something up. He wasn't gone long. When he returned, pushing the door open, he was carrying a wooden case painted a striking vermilion.

"It's not filled with pastries, is it?"

Jenkins offered a small joke, but no one—not even Chocolate—seemed to find it very funny.

The pathetic cry that followed, though delayed, still made Jenkins jump. The cat leaped nimbly off the counter, demanding to be picked up. Once in Jenkins's arms, it desperately buried its head in his chest, as if to escape the foul odor.

"What on earth is in there?"

He couldn't smell any strange odors himself, but he still backed away instinctively.

"It's not a pleasant smell."

Pops touched his nose, a look of lingering dread on his face. "A word of advice: when you get back to the church tonight, stay away from the east-wing corner of the basement. Unless you want to lose your appetite for dinner."

The case had two trays, separated by a small partition. Each was lined with thick cotton, cradling a total of six glass test tubes.

The source of the overwhelming stench was the test tubes. Jenkins and Pops had taken them to the back warehouse to inspect them; otherwise, no customer would have dared set foot in the shop for days.

Pops explained that the stench would fade over time. In about three days, the smell should be gone completely, and then they would be safe to carry.

"So, what exactly is this?"

Pops snapped the lid of the case shut, sealing away the pale yellow liquid. He and Jenkins then hurried out into the courtyard behind the warehouse, gulping down deep breaths of fresh air.

"You've probably never heard of it. It's the bane of all vampires. Even a demigod-level vampire would die for certain if a full vial of this was absorbed into their bloodstream. Of course, getting an opportunity like that is difficult. That's why the Church distributed the toxin—they want us to coat our weapons with it for extra killing power against the vampires."

"Alright, I understand. But we should probably wait until the smell is completely gone before we handle it. Oh, by the Sage... I think I'm going to be sick again."

Jenkins had received all the information on Hemolytic Toxin from the Star Spirit Rakul. According to the knowledge she'd imparted, however, the finished product shouldn't have such a potent stench.

He was confused by this, but Pops said the Church had already tested it on the humans infected and captured during the blood moon a few nights ago. The toxin's effects were exactly as Jenkins's knowledge described. So, he could only surmise that the source of the stench was some subtle mutation in the plant ingredients between their ancient and modern forms.

Discussing the gruesome deaths of the test subjects who had been injected with the toxin, the two of them walked back into the shop. It was still empty of customers. Chocolate had abandoned the counter and was now sprawled on the rug before the hearth.

"Speaking of which, does the Nolan diocese even have an alchemist? I don't recall any of the five local churches employing one."

"Old Jack arrived in Nolan just last night. Church headquarters sent him to help brew the Hemolytic Toxin."

He then added, "He's also here for his own reasons. I hope you haven't forgotten about that letter from a few weeks ago."

Old Jack had wanted Jenkins's help in brewing a rare potion. That was last month.

"I understand... Do they need my help brewing the Hemolytic Toxin? I can make some simple concoctions now."

Pops waved a dismissive hand. "Old Jack says you're only making the most basic healing draughts right now. There's no real skill involved in that. The Hemolytic Toxin is far more complex. You should stay out of it."

The potion, Witch's Kiss, didn't exactly have the best reputation. It could, after all, be used as an aphrodisiac. Old Jack was certainly being considerate, Jenkins thought.

The investigation report on the blood moon incident from two nights ago was already complete. Pops had overheard a few things from his colleagues when he was at the church at noon, so he knew some of the details.

"I heard the three vampires who appeared two nights ago were all remarkably handsome, the complete opposite of how they're described in the old tomes." Follow current novels on novel(ꜰ)ire.net

Yes, Jenkins had only heard about it, seeing as he'd spent that entire night at the church.

"There's nothing wrong with the descriptions in the books. They must have used some kind of special item. The report mentioned that as well."

Pops theorized uncertainly. Jenkins, however, was certain that wasn't the case. His Eye of Reality hadn't detected any items related to disguise that night.

As evening approached, Jenkins made the mistake of suggesting Chocolate go on a diet and was rewarded with a swipe of the cat's sharp claws. Pops, however, thought Chocolate was perfectly healthy for a kitten. He argued that while the cat ate a lot, most of it went towards its growth, so there was no need for a diet.

Jenkins outwardly agreed with Pops, but inwardly held to his own opinion. The cat, after all, seemed to have developed a habit of eating whatever it pleased—a habit that definitely needed correcting.

In the middle of his struggle with Chocolate, the antique shop received its first customer of the day, much to the surprise of Pops, who had been getting ready to close up early.

The customer was an elderly woman dressed in an old-fashioned, deep purple robe. On her head sat a straw hat one would normally only see in summer. It was hard to imagine how she had cultivated such a peculiar fashion sense.

Her face was a web of wrinkles, her mouth puckered, and a pair of round spectacles perched on her nose. But judging by the style of her handbag and the cane she carried—which appeared to be inlaid with gold thread—the lady was clearly from a distinguished background.

Jenkins glanced through the shop window and, sure enough, saw a private carriage parked across the street. The coachman, who had the sturdy build of a bodyguard, was watching both ends of Fifth Queen's Avenue with a vigilant eye.