Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 837

The streets were filled with a strange medley of odors, but the air inside the clinic was perfectly normal. The only problem was the long queue of people. The kind, middle-aged woman who greeted Jenkins at the door informed him that it was best to send a letter for an appointment beforehand; at this rate, he would likely be waiting until the afternoon.

Jenkins didn't have that much time, so he had no choice but to turn and leave. The clinic's receptionist, however, had taken a keen interest in Chocolate, remarking that he was a rarely seen, petite breed of cat.

But Chocolate remained steadfast in his refusal to be touched by anyone other than Jenkins. He was quite insistent on that point.

Back on the bustling street, Jenkins hesitated for a moment before ducking into an alley to alter his appearance. Only then did he proceed toward his destination: a shop specializing in potted plants. Judging by the sign out front, the owner also handled garden care and maintenance.

Inside, the shop was free of any unpleasant smells, instead evoking the feeling of a forest. The owner had decorated the space with care, seamlessly blending the plants for sale with the decor, giving the entire place the ambiance of a small cabin in the woods.

Thanks to the advanced steam industry of the era, creating a greenhouse environment was far easier than it had been centuries ago. Otherwise, it would be impossible to see such an abundance of potted plants and greenery in the late winter.

When he pushed open the door, there were three people inside. Two were bent over, loosening soil in pots, while a slightly older, middle-aged man stood behind the counter, his head bowed over a book.

Jenkins assumed this was the proprietor and stepped forward.

"Hello," he began, "I'd like to buy something."

As he returned the greeting, Jenkins took the opportunity to glance at the book the man was reading. It was a volume on the cultivation of winter plants.

"Purple Golden Roland Grass."

It was a real plant, its leaves as beautiful as purple-gold foil, with a delightful fragrance to match. Its extreme rarity made it a favorite among noblewomen. For ladies hosting salons or balls, decorating with Purple Golden Roland Grass was a sure way to become the envy of their friends for weeks to come.

Until now, Jenkins had only ever seen the plant in Miss Stuart's study.

"How much do you need?" the owner inquired, his voice tinged with a slight nervousness.

Jenkins said nothing, instead raising his hand in a peculiar gesture that didn't correspond to any number.

The owner's eyes narrowed with suspicion as he studied Jenkins's face. A moment later, a look of understanding dawned, and he nodded. He took two steps to his left, lifted the flap of the counter to let Jenkins through, and then opened a door on the wall behind him.

The shop owner was an ordinary man, as were the assistants he employed. But because he had access to channels for some exceptionally rare flora, the Enchanters of Nolan City were frequent customers.

Being able to procure such items, the owner was naturally aware of people who possessed supernatural powers. As long as there was a profit to be made, he didn't much care who bought his wares. However, purchasing sensitive goods required a secret sign, as many of the more unusual plants were not suitable for ordinary folk.

The door behind the counter opened into a small, dark room. As Jenkins followed the owner inside, the man was bending over to light a candle on a small round table.

They both took a seat, and Jenkins lifted the cat from his shoulder, placing him on the table. He wasn't concerned that Chocolate's curiosity would lead him to play with the flame; after all, the cat had never shown the slightest interest in the fireplace at home.

"What can I get for you? Oh, you're a first-time customer," the owner said. "I must remind you that I do not sell any illegal items prohibited by the Church."

"I know," Jenkins replied.

In reality, if the price was right, this shopkeeper could probably get his hands on a Plague Seed.

"I need a thousand-year-old wood heart."

"Oh, now that is a rare item indeed."

The owner frowned, though he didn't seem troubled by the request.

"What species are you looking for?"

"Any will do, but the wood heart must be completely intact. Don't try to sell me a piece that's been cut in two. I'll be able to tell."

"Of course, sir, you needn't worry..."

The owner stood and retrieved a thin booklet from the top shelf of a bookcase just at the edge of the candlelight. He flipped to a page near the back, his eyes scanning the text in the dim glow.

"I do have one available, but there might be a slight complication..."

"The wood heart... it's from an elder tree."

Enchanters typically used wood hearts for rituals related to Life. The elder tree, though a plant, possessed an inherent nature that often caused it to exhibit properties connected to Curses and Necromancy when used in rituals.

That explained the owner's hesitation. But Jenkins's mind didn't jump to the legends surrounding the elder tree. Instead, he recalled Miss Audrey's divination concerning a "graveyard," a "black cat," and an "elder tree."

Her prophecy had hinted at a major event threatening the city's safety, something clearly unrelated to the potion Jenkins was trying to create. Still, the word "elder tree" had taken root in his mind. Besides, the note from Mr. Saramanda the elf hadn't specified any particular type of tree.

"I'll take it," Jenkins declared. "How many gold pounds?"

"Are you certain? All sales are final, no returns."

"...Very well, then."

As he spoke, the owner handed Jenkins a photograph that had been tucked inside the booklet. The black-and-white image showed a small, withered-looking tree.

"Elderwood hearts are difficult to sell, so I can offer you a discount. But it is a thousand years old, so even with the discount, it will be..."

"Wait," Jenkins interrupted, "this tree isn't dead, is it?"

He was concerned that a dead tree would compromise the quality of the wood heart.

"No. It's close to dying, but it's not dead yet. At least, not for now." Chapters fırst released on novel(ꜰ)ire.net

Without giving Jenkins another chance to ask questions, the owner stated the price.

"Eight thousand pounds. That's the best I can do. Sir, since you're in the market for this, you must know the price for such a material is usually at least three times that. Eight thousand pounds, payment in full upon delivery, and not a single copper penny less!"

It was an exceptionally good price, and Jenkins had no reason to refuse. The only catch was that the dying elder tree was not in Nolan, nor even within the Fidektri Kingdom. To receive his purchase, he would have to wait until next week at the earliest. For now, all he could do was pay a deposit and wait for the owner to send word.

Of course, the delivery address would be the small tavern at the entrance to the black market. Jenkins would never be foolish enough to provide his real address.

Having secured the final component, Jenkins felt as though a great weight had been lifted. With each passing day, his curiosity about the potion had grown, especially after discovering the secret elven script in the recipe. He was more eager than ever to learn what the potion truly did.