Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 665

Extreme heat was the bane of the Cold Serpent Grass, so Jenkins had no trouble incinerating it with his own flames. The plant's true mass was far greater than what was visible, as it could absorb heat to multiply with terrifying speed.

Yet, based on its known growth habits, nowhere in the entire Fidektri Kingdom should have been suitable for such a plant. Jenkins grew worried that an extremely dangerous individual was lurking in the small town, but unfortunately, there was no Church of the Sage here.

But he was only here on a trip, after all. Even if he wanted to investigate the potential danger in town, he had no choice but to set off again with his friends the next day, heading deep into the snow-capped mountains.

The young people had clearly not slept well, unaccustomed as they were to winter nights without heating. Thank the Hermit, no one had caught a cold, otherwise their trip would have been over before it truly began.

The convoy of carriages snaked along the narrow mountain road, and Jenkins leaned against the window, gazing at the passing scenery. Far from the city, it was easy to forget he lived in a world of highly advanced steam industry. But perhaps, he mused, in many years to come, even this pristine mountain sanctuary would be claimed by humanity.

The convoy didn't stop for a break until lunchtime. Although large predators were scarce in the mountains during winter, the guards still reminded everyone to be cautious. The cold food was hardly appetizing; Jenkins ended up eating even less than his cat, Chocolate.

He stood a short distance from the carriage, gazing out at the mountain range. On a distant peak, he spotted a strange bird in flight. It resembled neither an eagle nor any other bird he recognized. Considering how truly remote those far-off mountains were, the existence of a few rare creatures was only to be expected.

Everyone was bundled in thick, padded coats, and even Chocolate had curled up inside Jenkins's jacket, refusing to emerge. The temperature had dropped even further since they entered the mountains, and all anyone wanted was to reach the warmth of the indoors.

Vast, dark clouds were rolling in from the distance, heralding an approaching blizzard. For some reason, Jenkins was suddenly struck by another ominous feeling.

Incidentally, while crossing the bridge, he had made a point of looking down into the ravine, but the bottom was completely obscured by the swirling snow and fog.

"If this bridge were to break... wait, don't I have a flying mount?"

The thought immediately put him at ease.

The mountain villa belonged to the Mandela family and was thus named Mandela Manor. A staff of servants responsible for its upkeep and security resided there year-round. With the arrival of the travelers and their own retinues of servants and guards, the once-quiet manor instantly burst with life.

The man in charge, a Mr. Joel Mangus who was dressed like a butler, awaited them at the manor's entrance under a black umbrella. He had servants at the ready to provide everyone with blankets against the cold.

The manor was warm and comfortable, and a sumptuous dinner was already waiting, bringing smiles to the faces of the weary travelers. The soft yellow candlelight and the promise of steaming hot baths soothed their bodies and spirits, washing away the fatigue from two days of arduous travel.

Room assignments had already been arranged in the three-story main building, with the gentlemen on the second floor and the ladies on the third.

All the rooms were at the guests' disposal, promising the start of a perfect holiday.

"What are you thinking about?"

In the warm, ground-floor lounge, Jenkins sat directly in front of the fireplace, leaning forward to watch the flames. The flickering fire danced in his eyes, and the nearby windowpanes reflected the warm, yellow-hued interior. Outside, the night was consumed by the blizzard; the dark clouds from earlier had delivered on their promise of terrible weather.

"Whenever I think of snow and mountains, I think of avalanches. Nothing like that could happen here, could it?"

"Don't worry. Unless that entire distant mountain collapses, this manor is in an absolutely safe location."

Not far away, a pair of gentlemen were playing billiards while the young ladies gathered before a display cabinet, chattering about the curios inside. They were already planning to spend the evening exploring the manor from top to bottom—even though they came every year.

The blizzard outside was ferocious, but that only enhanced the feeling of safety and comfort indoors. It was the simple relief of having escaped the danger, a sentiment Jenkins shared.

It was Hathaway who had spoken to Jenkins, and she seemed perfectly at ease chatting with him alone.

"I've noticed Chocolate is quite fond of this warm carpet. He doesn't seem to mind leaving his territory as much as other cats do. But then again, he's no ordinary cat... Speaking of which, where did those three golden hairs behind his ears come from? Malnutrition?"

Jenkins repeated the word with a sneer, and the cat instantly lifted its head, its gaze sharp. Though Jenkins had temporarily abandoned the cat's diet plan, Chocolate remained ever vigilant.

"I think over-nutrition is far more likely. Let's change the subject. I'm actually quite curious—a manor this far from any settlement must have its own strange legends, doesn't it? Perhaps a monster they call 'the Shining' or something of the sort."

He made a joke no one there would understand.

"The Shining? What's that?"

Hathaway shook her head, her long red hair swaying.

"But this manor does have its share of scary stories. The boys tell them every year. What do you suppose they're trying to accomplish?"

Jenkins knew exactly what they were trying to do; it was the oldest trick in the book. But he decided against letting on that he understood, lest the conversation veer in an unexpected direction.

"They're writers too, so they're looking for material?"

She shook her head; his answer was a clear attempt at playing dumb. She'd expected as much. The man before her wasn't clueless; sometimes, he simply chose not to understand. But that was fine. With Miss Mikhail in the picture, she wasn't sure what she should do anyway.

"But why am I even thinking about this? It's not like he and I could ever..."

She glanced instinctively toward her lover, Briny, who happened to be looking their way. Miss Mikhail offered the pair a cheerful smile.

No one in the manor was worried about the blizzard, as there were enough stored food and fuel to last the entire winter. Their only hope was that the storm wouldn't delay their plans to hike out in search of the hot spring that never froze over.

The day's journey into the mountains had left everyone weary, and with plans for the following day, people began to retire to their rooms around nine o'clock.