Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 628

Even with three shimmering golden hairs, Chocolate was still just an ordinary cat. At least, Jenkins hadn't noticed it gaining any otherworldly powers.

It would likely take some time before the full benefits of being purified by a faint divinity became apparent, but as long as the cat gained a longer lifespan, Jenkins would be more than satisfied. Chapters fırst released on novel(ꜰ)ire.net

With his divinity depleted, Jenkins fell back to being a mere mortal. A heavy sense of loss settled in his chest, with no way to vent it. Frustrated, he summoned his unicorn and popped the white flower into his mouth—he was getting ever closer to the threshold of the fourth level.

The unicorn appeared in the same state as before, clad in silver armor that shimmered with a faint light.

The [Unicorn Summon (Blue Heteromorphic)] ability had mutated under the influence of divinity. The description now read: [Sacred Unicorn Summon (Golden Divine Art)].

"This must be my first divine art, right? Huh, it doesn't seem to have anything to do with my current divine domain."

He muttered to himself, then whispered to his mount:

"Revert to your original form. This appearance consumes far too much spirit."

It responded, and the armor vanished. Once again an ordinary unicorn, it blinked its eyes at its master.

As he soared into the night sky, Jenkins had a nagging feeling he'd forgotten something. He glanced down at the clearing below and the lights nearby, when a sudden realization struck him:

"Damn it, I forgot to get the spear back!"

That's right. The black spear, capable of harming souls, had been swallowed whole by the altar, along with the divine scion's body. Losing that precious Bestowal was the worst thing that had happened all night.

After returning to the alley to retrieve his body, he slipped back into the church. He'd been worried the guards would be on high alert and that he'd need an excuse for being outside. To his surprise, however, security was even more lax than usual. It seemed most of the Enchanters were absent.

He hopped through the window into his room and immediately spotted a conspicuous note on his desk. The handwriting told him it was from Miss Bevanna:

"Once you return, do not leave your room. Do not open the window or expose yourself to the fog outside."

She seemed to know Jenkins had entered a Mysterious Realm and was certain he would return. As for the fog outside...

Though the unfortunate divine scion had been carved up and devoured, the dense fog generated by its awakening showed no signs of dissipating. Jenkins had inhaled plenty of it on his way back, but he felt no ill effects.

"I can't see any spiritual glow in the fog. Is it because it's too weak?"

He scratched his head. Suddenly, he heard the wall clock chime. When his eyes fell on the clock face, he realized it was already twelve o'clock.

"Ah, the Universal Calendar's..."

Before he could finish his thought, his consciousness was yanked to an impossibly high plane, and his body fell, stiff as a board, onto the nearby mattress.

Resounding bells tolled endlessly in his ears, and rainbow-colored clouds swirled overhead. In the far distance, two blurry figures appeared. A black shadow and a white radiance converged, creating an image that was half dark, half light, yet utterly harmonious.

All of this was within Jenkins's expectations. He braced himself, ready to commit every sound to memory before his mind reached its breaking point.

But the unexpected often follows the familiar. Jenkins suddenly noticed something hidden in an area above the mists—an object of no great size, yet not small either. This sudden perception was no coincidence. It took him only a second to realize it was a new discovery, one made possible by his newfound divinity.

He saw a decrepit stone stele, its edges severely damaged. The mere act of observing this detail was like a sledgehammer blow to the back of his head, and he instantly lost consciousness.

"A huge loss," he thought. "I didn't hear a thing..."

The year 1866 of the Universal Calendar had finally arrived. On the day before the new year, a world-shaking event in Nolan City on the continent's west coast sent fresh ripples through a material world already in turmoil.

From the southern forests of the continent to the northernmost ice caps, from Dragon's Rest Island in the east to the storm zones of the western seas—within a mere twelve hours, those who had stepped into the world of the extraordinary had, to varying degrees, learned of the astonishing truth.

Not even the maddest fanatic could have imagined six deities appearing at once. And not even the most treacherous schemer would now dare make a move against Nolan City.

In truth, gods descending to the mortal world in the guise of a saint was not unheard of in this epoch, but such events were almost always kept secret. For six deities to appear simultaneously on the last day of the twelfth month, however, was an event no one could have possibly predicted.

The Twelve Orthodox Churches received divine oracles at almost the exact same time, all with astonishingly consistent content. It was announced that the divine domain of [Lies] had shifted, and the former [Prince of Lies] had defected from the ranks of the evil gods. But the most crucial piece of information was this: the appearance of six Pseudo-Gods in Nolan City had not violated the pact between deities. It was all permissible.

This news greatly amplified the mortals' panic and awe. Meanwhile, the various Pseudo-God cults also received revelations from their deities. The brave packed their bags and set out for the chosen city. The cowardly groveled in the shadows, waiting for the tides to turn. The wise gazed at the stars, desperate for a sign of the epoch's end. And the foolish brandished their blades, coveting a place that was not theirs to claim.

Even if the Orthodox Churches wanted to cover up the events of that night, the spectacular meteor shower and the spreading rumors about the "God of Lies changing hands" had already spoken volumes.

The moniker "New God" was abandoned. From now on, people would only refer to him as the "God of Lies."

This, in turn, gave the Orthodox Church in the Nolan diocese an idea. They linked the "Fabry Fraud" to the new [God of Lies] and performed a targeted divination. What they had assumed was merely a criminal matter among mortals produced the familiar, utterly chaotic results of a divine affair.

"Of course! The New God was plotting to seize the divine domain of Lies all along. It was all premeditated! That shadowy faction was behind it the whole time. We should have seen this coming."

"No, that's not it at all," Jenkins silently refuted. "This is all a plot by the old God of Lies!"

Outwardly, however, he simply kept his head lowered, an expression of exhaustion on his face.

He had only woken up at six this morning, a fact everyone interpreted as a sign of severe mental trauma from the Mysterious Realm. He was now in the middle of reporting the previous day's events. Though Miss Bevanna was clearly exhausted herself, she fought to stay focused as he recounted his experiences.

The first morning of the new year began with such a conversation.