Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 599

After the tremendous explosion, the night fell silent again. Jenkins, unable to sleep, whispered into the darkness:

"Chocolate, how many more explosions do you think we'll have tonight?"

He didn't really care about the answer; he just wanted to see if his cat was also suffering from insomnia.

The residents of Nolan City likely didn't get much sleep that night. Before dawn, three more of those deafening explosions rocked the city.

As a result, on the morning of December 24th, people weren't focused on the morning papers—they wouldn't have news of the early morning events anyway. Instead, everyone was busy discussing with friends, speculating about what on earth had happened.

Since he could head to Pops Antique Shop later, Jenkins spent the morning after breakfast helping in the church library, reshelving books that had fallen from the shelves due to the tremors, all while hoping to run into Captain Bincy or someone else who might know the truth.

He didn't have to wait long. A group of severely injured Enchanters was carried into the church through the back door on stretchers. This was a job for Jenkins.

There were thirteen wounded in this group. Each one was covered in red, whip-like welts, reminiscent of marks left by an electric eel or some similar creature.

The more critical problem, however, was that the wounded remained unconscious.

"What in the world happened?"

The people who brought the injured back didn't know much either. All they knew was that a fierce battle between high-level Enchanters had erupted in the small factory district by the riverbank. At least four demigod Enchanters from the Orthodox Churches, including Miss Bevanna, had been present on the battlefield.

This group of wounded was the first reconnaissance team to enter the bombed-out factory district last night, with members from the Church of the Unlit Moon, the Church of Knowledge and Books, and the Church of Ocean and Exploration.

Although Jenkins's treatment wasn't completely effective, at least the patients' conditions showed no signs of worsening.

It was already evening when he saw Miss Bevanna again. Jenkins was reading the evening paper, curious to see how the secular world was interpreting the nighttime explosions, when Captain Bincy came stumbling over to summon him to Miss Bevanna's office.

Miss Bevanna was injured. Her right arm bore the exact same marks as the wounded from that morning. The swollen welts were even more severe, but at least she wasn't unconscious.

"What exactly happened?"

Jenkins grasped the woman's smooth wrist, and a green vapor passed quickly between them. The [Life Pearl] floated before him, its emerald light burning like a verdant flame in mid-air.

"The Scion of an Evil God has appeared."

Miss Bevanna's voice was heavy with exhaustion. She raised her uninjured left hand and, against the setting sun in the window, tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.

"When the first investigation team went missing yesterday, I knew something terrible had happened. There's likely no one left alive in the factory district. The cultists turned on all the steam engines, and the Scion absorbed the entire layer of toxic fog that hangs over Nolan City. We tried to interrupt the process, but unfortunately, we failed."

Jenkins froze. He finally understood why the weather was so clear today, and why those welts were impossible to erase—they were wounds inflicted by divine power.

"It drew too much power from the fog and has sealed off the entire district. We can't get in, and it probably can't get out before it fully awakens... A request for a divine descent has been sent to Bel Diran. Jenkins, you should prepare yourself. If the Sage has time to grant an audience to His followers in the material world, He will very likely want to see you."

The news was utterly sudden, both the Scion's rampage and the Sage's potential arrival. Although he had encountered the unknowable visages of great deities more than once, he had never imagined meeting a true god face-to-face, in a human manner. For origınal chapters go to novel{f}ire.net

"Will the Sage discover my identity?"

The thought worried him, but the sense of panic was much less intense than when he had first arrived in this world.

"I've made many contributions to the Church, and I haven't hidden too many secrets."

He reassured himself, then another thought surfaced:

"Should I find an excuse to lie low for a while?"

It was the worst idea, but also the most reliable one. He swallowed hard, desperately hoping that damn Evil God's Scion would just spontaneously explode and not actually draw the attention of a Righteous God.

Tuesday arrived in a blur. After bidding farewell to Hathaway and Miss Mikhail that evening, Jenkins watched the sunset with a renewed sense of melancholy. The city's air quality was unbelievably good; even Papa Oliver remarked that these past two days were the best he'd ever experienced in Nolan.

Strolling along, looking for a carriage back to the church, he somehow spotted Agnes Howard, codenamed "Magic Miss," hurrying toward him from the other end of the street. They brushed past each other without a word.

"None of my business."

He told himself, and kept walking.

But he hadn't taken two steps before he saw Mr. Liverpool across the street, furtively surveying the club's front hall. He was being more careful this time, avoiding the notice of the club's security guards, but his suspicious behavior was already drawing glances from passersby.

"Him again... This also has nothing to do with me."

He shook his head, stopped to buy an evening paper from a newsboy, and continued down the street.

But after a few more steps, he stopped again and turned to look at Liverpool, who was still there.

"I keep running into him lately. That's definitely not a good sign. I should just resolve this once and for all. This is a good opportunity."

With that thought, he strode across the street, using the cover of other pedestrians to close in on Mr. Liverpool, then suddenly clapped a hand on his shoulder.

The man jumped, then realized it was someone he knew.

"Oh, it's Baron Williamette. Good afternoon. It's a pleasure to see you."

He spoke with a hint of fear, his pimpled face lowered, avoiding Jenkins's gaze.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Liverpool."

Jenkins's hand tightened its grip on his shoulder. To avoid drawing the attention of passersby, he angled his body to shield the action from view.

"Perhaps I'm overstepping, but I'd very much like to know what you're doing right now."