Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 851

The area around the cemetery was desolate. Aside from the cleared road, most of the grounds lay buried beneath a blanket of white snow. Only a few tenacious thorn bushes broke through the surface, looking skeletal and half-dead.

The cemetery entrance stood at the end of the road. Beyond it was a grove of withered trees; in other words, it was a dead end. Two symmetrical monster statues flanked the entrance, creatures Jenkins’s knowledge couldn’t identify, but he suspected they were part of some local Shire custom.

Above the stone archway was, naturally, the holy emblem of the great Righteous God of Death and End. This signified that the cemetery was under the god’s protection, and its groundskeeper was appointed by the Church of Death and End.

Along both sides of the arch, carvings of elderflowers, mandrakes, poppies, and a local specialty, the black man-faced flower, were etched deep into the stone, forming a chain that cascaded from top to bottom.

And on the side of the right stone pillar, a deep inscription was coated with silver-laced paint:

“Here we end, and they begin.”

When Jenkins had come here in the autumn, he hadn’t used the main entrance, so he had missed all of this. Now, looking up at the words, he felt an inexplicable weight settle upon his heart.

It was just an illusion, of course. He shook his head and strode confidently onto the gravel path before the gate.

This cemetery was primarily for the unfortunate souls who had died far from home and whose bodies could not be transported back, so it rarely saw any visitors. The grounds inside were just as deserted. A bone-chilling wind whipped past, and all around the small path were graves, their square stone markers embedded in the earth, recounting the final details of the deceased.

Both knees were patched with leather to prevent excessive wear and tear.

Judging by the colors of his abilities, the old man was a groundskeeper for the Orthodox Church. According to the huntress's information from the autumn, he had been seriously ill, and a younger man had been watching over the place at that time.

Jenkins was still in his black-robed disguise, with the red and tan-striped Maine Coon, Chocolate, perched on his shoulder.

He remained calm and offered a polite greeting.

“Good evening, sir. I’m here to find...”

“Find them yourself.”

The groundskeeper didn’t even wait for Jenkins to finish saying the name of the Silver Jasmine Opera Troupe’s apprentice makeup artist, Pryor Jones.

He seemed to be in a hurry, striding right past Jenkins with the shovel on his shoulder.

“I’ve got things to do. Those damned rats are about to eat all my provisions! If you’re here to visit someone, go right ahead. The new graves from the last couple of years are in the southern section. Oh, these poor souls, unable to return to their homes...”

With that, he headed toward the eastern side of the cemetery. In the distance, it looked like a large patch of winter crops was being grown.

“I suppose this is my lucky day...”

Being left undisturbed was for the best. Jenkins watched until the groundskeeper was truly gone before continuing forward. He knew exactly where his destination was, but heading there directly would surely arouse suspicion.

He ambled through the cemetery, head bowed as if reading the inscriptions on the tombstones, gradually making his way toward Pryor Jones’s final resting place. During his stroll, he was surprised to find the grave of someone who also shared his surname, a poor soul named Oakland Williamette who, according to the tombstone, had lost his life last winter after choking on a pine nut.

“Chocolate, did you see that? A lesson for you. Be more careful when you eat from now on.”

The cat’s reply was, as usual, inscrutable.

Unlike his visit in the autumn, Miss Jones's grave was now clear of weeds, covered only by a layer of snow. Out of respect, Jenkins knelt, took off his gloves, and cleared the tombstone. He tossed aside the dead leaves and branches before taking a deep breath and sitting on the snow-free patch of ground, ready to investigate.

“Chocolate, watch my body!”

He instructed the cat, then activated his Soul Departure from Dream ability. His spirit flew from his body and plunged straight into the earth.

As Jenkins’s level continued to rise, the amount of time he could spend out of his body had grown longer. This time, he didn't have to rush as he had in the autumn. But as his spirit entered the ground, it didn’t draw out any new divinity as it had before.

He descended bit by bit, finding it fascinating to observe the world from this perspective. But as his consciousness touched the still-new wooden coffin, he instinctively sensed that something was wrong.

It was a sound only Jenkins could hear. He was utterly shocked that his soul, with its current “quality,” could be flung back by such immense force.

The moment Jenkins made contact, the seemingly ordinary coffin below emitted a glow that was only visible to a spirit. A sacred light flared before his eyes, but before he could get a better look, it forcefully repelled him.

In a flash of light, Jenkins was back in his own body. The ground before him showed no signs of disturbance, as if the whole experience had been nothing but a dream. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ N0veI.Fiɾe.net

“Chocolate, did anything happen just now?”

The cat padded over to Jenkins and began to draw a series of chaotic symbols in the snow with its paw. Jenkins stared for a moment, then felt a flush of shame for even trying to decipher a cat’s secret code.

The light hadn’t harmed him; it had simply pushed him back into his body. Combined with the unmistakable signature glow of divine magic, it seemed the pseudo-god had placed a special ward on the coffin before departing, to deter “thieves” like him.

Following that line of thought, even if he managed to dig up the coffin, he would most likely be injured by some unexpected divine defense.

Only a god can harm a god. Jenkins understood this principle all too well.

“This is trouble... What on earth is going on...”

His primary purpose for coming here was to confirm the state of the body in the coffin. From what he knew of the aftermath of the “Six Gods’ Descent on Nolan,” all the mortal vessels used by the gods—barring special cases of possession—had accompanied the deities to some unknown dimension.

Therefore, the fact that this corpse remained was highly suspicious. Even more suspicious was that the Jenkins of the past, blissfully unaware of the true danger, had actually managed to extract a sliver of divinity from it.