Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 848

"I'm supposed to help Professor Burns at the library this weekend."

Before boarding, Jenkins made one last attempt to gauge just how determined Pops was to see him leave. Tʜe sourcᴇ of thɪs content ɪs novèlfire.net

"That's fine, he won't mind."

As the train rumbled in from the distance, people on the platform, whether sitting or standing, started gathering their luggage. Amid the deafening clamor, Pops yelled:

"Have fun in Shire! You don't need to rush back. Just be here before the baptism at the end of the month. Oh, wait—it seems the baptism's been postponed until early next month. The celestial anomaly has changed the most suitable date!"

Jenkins yelled back, though in truth, he had already left a spiritual lodestone in his home.

Without another farewell, the train carried the young writer and his cat into the distance. Leaving Nolan always filled Jenkins with a sense of melancholy, as all his family and most of his friends lived there.

"Look on the bright side," Jenkins told himself. "At least Shire won't be nearly as dangerous."

He'd taken this same train to Shire last autumn, but a winter earthquake had completely destroyed a tunnel east of Nolan. Now, the route had to detour around the mountains. This meant the journey would last well into the evening, but Pops had assured him Old Jack would be at the station to meet him.

Whether he stayed at the local church or at Old Jack's herbal shop was entirely up to him.

The bunk was situated beneath the window, directly across from the cabin door, with a desk on one side and a coat rack on the other. A thermos, snugly wrapped in a bamboo-strip net, sat at the edge of the desk. With every vibration of the train, it shuddered in a steady rhythm against the floorboards.

Jenkins's life of constant surprises never failed to deliver. He spent the entire morning reading. Around noon, he decided to take Chocolate to the dining car for lunch, but as he opened his cabin door, he discovered the guest in the adjacent cabin was doing the exact same thing.

It was a familiar face—not just his neighbor on the train, but his neighbor back home as well.

"Oh, Mrs. Folant? What a coincidence. I never expected to run into you here."

The acquaintance was none other than Silver Flute Miss—the middle-aged woman who had teamed up with Jenkins for that bit of underworld business, the one who'd spent a fortune on the crown at the auction.

She was equally surprised to see her young neighbor. After exchanging greetings, they decided to head to the dining car together.

Silver Flute Miss's destination was also Shire City. She claimed she was there to visit a friend.

Jenkins didn't buy that for a second. From what he could tell, the woman was traveling fully armed. She was clearly heading into a dangerous situation, so he kept their conversation brief. After lunch, he retreated to his cabin, keen to avoid getting entangled in whatever trouble she was courting.

Though he remained suspicious of Silver Flute Miss's true intentions, Shire was a large city, and the odds of them crossing paths again were slim. Jenkins soon dismissed the chance encounter and turned his thoughts to planning the next few days.

Since Pops wanted him to stay in Shire for a while, returning early wasn't an option—at least not openly. Before leaving, he'd had the foresight to leave a spiritual lodestone back on St. George Avenue. All he had to do was project himself back and activate [Real Illusion], and he could essentially travel between the two cities in an instant.

He just had to remember to leave another spiritual lodestone in Shire, or he'd be in real trouble when it was time to return.

The rest of the day passed without incident. As evening approached, however, Chocolate suddenly took an intense interest in a swarm of butterflies outside. The cat started scratching furiously at the windowpane, making such a racket that Jenkins nearly banned him from dinner.

It was late winter, verging on early spring—a time of awakening—so a few butterflies were to be expected. It wasn't until night fell, cloaking the world outside in complete darkness, that Jenkins finally understood what had captured his cat's attention.

It was about seven o'clock. Jenkins sat in the dining car, sipping tea and reading a newspaper, while discreetly eavesdropping on two middle-aged men at the next table who were discussing the banking industry.

Judging by their attire and bearing, they were probably merchants. As for their opinions on new banking models and currency reform, Jenkins thought they were spouting absolute nonsense.

Still, eavesdropping was surprisingly entertaining. He noticed his cat's ears were pricked up as well, though he couldn't imagine what it was listening to.

"What does he know about banking?"

The young writer completely underestimated his cat, chuckling inwardly at Chocolate's behavior.

Silver Flute Miss sat across from him, reading a magazine called "Beautiful Girl". It was a publication dedicated to the latest seasonal fashions, the kind Jenkins had seen at the young ladies' social clubs.

In the distance, a waiter moved between tables with a tea tray. The uniformed conductor was eating and whispering with his colleagues. A noblewoman with a small pet dog watched Jenkins with curiosity, while her dog watched Chocolate with equal intensity. The woman's husband, a bald old man, sat slumped in his wheelchair, fast asleep.

The atmosphere was wonderfully serene. Far from the turmoil of Nolan, Jenkins felt a sense of purpose in life he hadn't experienced in a long time.

"When the day comes for me to retire," he mused, "I'll live on my own estate with Chocolate. I'll have a big house, a windmill, fields of lavender, two or three..."

"Oh, gods, everyone, look!"

A woman's gasp shattered Jenkins's pleasant daydream. Annoyed, he followed the sound of her voice and glanced out the window. There, against the blackness of the night, a cloud of brilliant lights was keeping pace with the train.

On closer inspection, it was a swarm of glowing butterflies. They flew just a fraction slower than the train itself, their beating wings scattering motes of fluorescent light into the air, painting an exquisitely beautiful scene against the black canvas of the night.

It was a spectacle straight out of an oil painting or a dream. Jenkins could even hear a young maid not far off gasp softly in wonder.

"What... what kind of strange creatures are those?"

One of the men who had been discussing banking asked his companion, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"I suppose so. I've heard that some deep-sea fish can glow. Perhaps these are just a very rare species of butterfly."

His companion didn't really know, but he offered a vague explanation to save face.

But Jenkins knew these were no ordinary creatures. Through his eyes, a brilliant azure radiance overwhelmed the butterflies' natural fluorescence. They were a swarm of Exotics—a species he couldn't even begin to identify.