Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 836

To his surprise, the ring from Viscount Augustus's estate sold for an incredibly high price. The two bidding merchants, a pair of middle-aged men, seemed to hold a grudge against each other, driving the price up relentlessly. In the end, both the winner and the loser wore triumphant expressions. These must be the kind of men so rich that gold pounds are just numbers to them, Jenkins mused.

The auction featured a total of 34 lots. After the ring came a solid gold goblet, its surface studded with half a dozen gemstones of various colors. The auctioneer proclaimed it was the very cup used by Sloc II of the ancient Sicari Empire to drink poison and end his life some five hundred years prior.

Evidently, no one was interested in such a morbid piece. The auctioneer called out three times, his voice straining, but not a single bid was made. With a sigh of regret, he announced that the lot had failed to sell.

When the final lot was unveiled in its glass case, a ripple of excitement finally stirred the stagnant atmosphere of Hall No. 1. A series of gasps echoed through the room, and even Jenkins found himself unconsciously leaning forward, eager to get a clearer view of the treasure within the case.

What was on display was a magnificent crown. A ruby the size of a pigeon's egg was embedded at its apex, and the metalwork was studded with a breathtaking number of other jewels.

It was exquisite. Bathed in the soft overhead light, it cast a dazzling radiance. Its mere presence was enough to draw a sigh from the onlookers, for it possessed an ancient, noble air that no other piece of jewelry could ever hope to match.

"That's it. The fabled crown of the lost Kingdom of Desman."

Mr. Onis exclaimed to Jenkins, his voice filled with excitement. Even though the crown had nothing to do with them, and they couldn't dream of affording it, the sight alone was exhilarating.

"Yes. Of all the crowns that still exist, I believe only those of the three great kingdoms could compare. Ah, now this is a true work of art..."

The Kingdom of Desman was a small, legendary nation said to have existed between the third and seventh centuries of the current epoch. Countless mysterious and bizarre legends surrounded it. To the people of this era, those tales were no different from myths, and archaeologists couldn't even confirm if the kingdom had ever truly existed.

Consequently, the connection to the "Kingdom of Desman" didn't add an astonishingly high value to the crown. Its starting bid was calculated at just one and a half times the price of a typical antique.

Even so, when the starting bid was announced, Jenkins, the worldly-unwise traveler from another land, couldn't help but draw a sharp breath. The number was immense—so large that he didn't want to dwell on it, because he knew he could never afford it.

Once the bidding for the crown began, Jenkins understood that the vast majority of the people here had come for this very item.

Even Silver Flute Miss raised her bidding paddle. That explained her desperate efforts to raise money. The sum was truly staggering.

It would have been a lie to say Jenkins wasn't interested in the crown. But in these sensitive times, he had no desire to stir up any additional trouble. The latest_epɪ_sodes are on_the novel⸺fire.net

He watched quietly as the numbers climbed higher and higher. Hesitation, panic, determination, confusion—a whole range of emotions played out in the small auction hall.

In the end, it was Silver Flute Miss who won. The woman had been bidding relentlessly from the very beginning, making her determination to acquire the crown perfectly clear. Though there were other competitors, as the price soared, she ultimately bought it for nearly twice its market value.

It was the lawyer who told Jenkins the market price. Although he couldn't afford it, he was clearly fascinated by the crown and even knew a bit about its history.

But regardless, it was just an ordinary object—at least, as far as he knew. Until the incident with the undead was over, Jenkins had no desire to probe into whatever captivating secrets it might hold.

The sale of the crown marked the end of the auction. Jenkins had merely been a spectator, but at least by the time he parted ways with the lawyer, he no longer felt the least bit tired.

It was only ten in the morning, though the weather remained dreary. Still, he could feel a subtle warmth in the air. Winter was truly coming to an end.

Jenkins had nothing planned for the day. He was tempted to search for the Corpse-Wrapping Nun's Habit in the abandoned cemetery, but Papa Oliver had been right—leaving the city now was just asking for serious trouble.

He started to meander home, but then he remembered the clue to the wood heart he'd bought at the Corpse Gentleman's gathering. The address wasn't far from the auction house. After a moment's hesitation, Jenkins turned left at the street corner.

As he moved away from the city center, the neat streets and well-ordered houses quickly gave way to a shabbier state. Only the steam pipes running along the walls, a signature feature of Nolan City, remained uniform.

Jenkins's destination was Bode Street, an area on the east side of Nolan that specialized in selling flowers, birds, fish, and small pets. He'd heard Fini mention it before; back when she was a flower girl, she would wait at a corner here every morning for the trucks from the countryside to arrive with cheap, fresh blossoms.

It was nearly noon now, so of course Jenkins didn't see any little flower girls. But as he turned onto the street, a mixed odor of fresh plants and animal musk immediately assaulted his senses, forcing him to cover his nose.

It was the end of winter, a time when fresh flowers were both expensive and scarce, so the street was currently dedicated mainly to selling small animals.

Cats and dogs yowled from iron cages set up in front of shops; shrewd merchants rubbed their hands together as they haggled with small shopkeepers; well-dressed butlers carefully inspected the ears of a purebred Scottish Fold; and a dense crowd of pet rats huddled in a box before a sign, waiting for new owners...

Somehow, when he and Chocolate had first arrived on the street, he could still hear the cacophony of animal cries. But after walking for a short while, the sounds had inexplicably grown faint.

Jenkins attributed this to Chocolate's powerful aura and stroked the cat, who had been increasingly well-behaved lately. Chocolate let out a soft meow, and Jenkins failed to notice that in a cage just behind him, several small orange kittens were huddled together, trembling.

He had plenty of time today, so there was no need to head straight for his destination and arouse suspicion. He took Chocolate and browsed a few of the nearby shops. However, his attention to the other cats seemed to annoy Chocolate, who kept giving malicious glares to any cat lounging in a cage or basking in the sun.

Since adopting Chocolate, the cat had always been healthy, so Jenkins had never had a reason to take him to a veterinarian. As it happened, a sign for "Mr. Spencer's Pet Clinic" hung at Number 21 Bode Street. Ignoring Chocolate's protests, he pushed open the door, deciding to have a doctor check if his cat was overweight.