Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 552

The theater walls were unevenly textured, a design meant to prevent echoes from forming in such a spacious interior. The trembling in Jenkins’s voice as he told his story carried far in the eerie atmosphere; he was sure that even someone standing outside the door could hear him now.

“From that night on, I kept noticing little habits in the new cat that only Laruelle had. I was terrified. It never did anything to harm me, but gentlemen, I simply cannot accept something like a soul in another’s body happening in my own home.”

He rotated his neck again, but this time he lifted his head ever so slightly before letting it drop naturally.

“Then, on the night of the fullest summer moon this year, something truly horrifying happened. Oh, may the gods protect me! I was woken by a foul stench. My luck was terrible that night; even the gas lamp in my house was broken. I found a candle and searched the bedroom for the source of the smell. And then... and then...”

He lifted his head to look directly above, where a goblet-shaped object had materialized above the decorative chandelier.

He thought, his expression unchanged, as he continued his tedious story: Thıs content belongs to NoveIＦire.net

“I realized the putrid smell was coming from under my bed!”

He saw the man sitting across from him begin to shudder as if having a seizure, and at the same time, the points of light drifting from him grew denser.

“I truly don’t want to remember that moment, but I know I have to face this fear.”

“Yes, sir. We must all be courageous. It’s the only way to face such chilling events.”

Mr. Scotter encouraged him in a low voice.

“Thank you, you’re absolutely right. Alright, so I knelt by the bed, covering my nose with my left hand and holding the candle with my right. Then, holding my breath, I used my left hand to lift the draping bedsheet. I was so scared my hand holding the candle was shaking. And what I saw... dear God, what I saw was the badly decomposed corpse of a cat. Yes, it was the new cat, the one that had been with me for nearly a year!”

Someone let out a soft groan as Jenkins revealed the truth. The points of light emanating from everyone in the room intensified, which strongly suggested his theory about “collecting fear” was correct.

“Truly, gentlemen, I don’t want to recall that scene again. But I can assure you, the rotting corpse was so decayed I could even see its bones, and the maggots... I’m sorry.”

“I buried the body. But ever since that day, I often see Laruelle running in my peripheral vision, and at night, I dream of terrible things. But the most frightening part is that any woman who gets close to me complains about finding unexplained scratch marks on her body. I know it’s Laruelle. It’s interfering with my life. Why won’t it just leave! Dust to dust, what’s dead should stay dead! Why is it doing this to me!”

Jenkins’s story ended there. He wasn’t particularly satisfied with the tale he had hastily concocted, but it didn’t matter. After all, no one was paying him for it. His real concern was the goblet above his head.

Mr. Scotter and the other members of the support group took turns offering Jenkins advice and comfort. Compared to the terrifying encounters the previous two speakers had described, his experience wasn’t life-threatening. In that respect, his story was almost enviable.

The storytelling continued. After tales of human-headed balloons, a boy in red, an infant who died young, and a reclusive old man, it was finally the last person’s turn: the young magician.

By now, the night was deep, and the candles beside them had nearly burned to their ends. Mr. Scotter handed out new candles, and everyone quietly bent down to light them.

“In ancient myths, there were other things that walked the earth besides humans—terrible, bizarre creatures.”

The magician’s beginning was rather unusual. The others had all spoken in the first person, but he seemed to have no intention of doing so.

“In modern times, though these creatures have withdrawn from our world, there are still some cults or wicked individuals who plot to bring them back.”

A sense of foreboding suddenly washed over Jenkins. Perhaps his own arrival had been an accident, and the magician was the one who was truly here to resolve the situation.

“Demons, ghouls, evil spirits. The creatures of ancient myth are perpetually spying on our world, and those with evil in their hearts seek to shatter the current peace and drag them into this old and peaceful city.”

Jenkins wasn’t the only one who noticed something was off. Everyone present was a lucky survivor of a paranormal event, and their senses were frighteningly sharp.

“There is a type of creature, exceedingly rare even in ancient times—the Abyssal One. It’s a monster that survives on the fear of living beings. In its vicinity, supernatural events occur with greater frequency. As it absorbs fear, it can also drain a creature’s life, mind, and even soul. Any rational being that looks upon it will feel a terror like gazing into an abyss, which is how it got its name.”

Jenkins glanced at Mr. Scotter, confirming once more that he was just an ordinary man.

“By the 15th Epoch, there were very few organizations left that fanatically worshipped and sacrificed humans to the Abyssal Ones. The most famous and powerful among them was the Tobie family. After thousands of years of turmoil and suppression by the Orthodox Churches, coupled with the steady decline of supernatural power that weakened them, the Tobie family, which operated like a secret cult, gradually fell into decline. In the modern era, there is only one true descendant left who has survived and carries on the family tradition.”

The magician stood up and faced Mr. Scotter.

“Yes, sir. Now, please hand over B-03-01-8383, the Cup of Hidden Fear. I can guarantee your life will be spared. I swear it before God!”

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mr. Scotter’s voice was low and strained, but the others had already instinctively backed away from him. The six adults, including Jenkins, scrambled from their seats in the circle, somehow managing to cram themselves onto just three chairs.

“I may have only recently arrived in Nolan City, but I have long heard of the Tobie family. Let’s not waste any more time. Hand over what I want, or I’ll see you dead right here! I know you don’t have the gifts of an Enchanter, so don’t even think about resisting!”

The magician was clearly growing impatient, but he was right. Against a prepared Enchanter, an ordinary person stood no chance at all.