Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 868

The effects of the "Song of Nature" went beyond merely making Jenkins's wooden body more resilient. After the melody ended, a vast spirit of nature stimulated the wood's vitality, imbuing it with new life. Slowly, countless tiny wooden tendrils sprouted from his torso, dancing in the air like tentacles. This was nothing sinister; it was a sign of regrowth, an expression of the wood's reawakened life force.

Roots sprouted from Jenkins's feet, and on his exposed skin and face, the wooden tendrils swayed slowly. He knew with certainty that he could never have sung the "Song of Nature" to completion if not for his current aberrant form. The song itself contained an energy that strained the physical body, and in his human form, his throat would not have been able to bear such a burden.

He took a deep breath, feeling the life spirit flow within his torso. He positioned himself in front of Magic Miss and Silver Flute Miss, shielding them. As he turned his head slightly to look at the women, Magic Miss happened to be looking up to check on him.

The sight of his face, covered in writhing tendrils, was clearly reflected in the Rune-kin's senses. A pained wail escaped her, and her already dim, ethereal body grew even more transparent.

"Don't turn your head!"

Magic Miss cried out. Follow current novels on noⅴelfire.net

Jenkins knew his current appearance was likely far from pleasant.

"Then, let me bestow this knowledge upon you!"

In a daze, a hallucination materialized before him: a woman, completely unclothed, approaching from the distance with a sweet smile. On closer inspection, her face seemed to be Hathaway's, but then again, it looked like Briny's. Behind her, a growing crowd of youthful maidens laughed and frolicked as they rushed toward Jenkins.

With unerring precision and force, Chocolate slapped Jenkins hard across the face. The cat's claws scraped against his tough, wooden skin, producing a sharp, grating sound.

The sound jolted Jenkins from his fantasy. If not for his current lack of skin, his face would surely have been beet red.

"Damn it, what was I thinking?"

He knew exactly what he was recalling: the weekend nights from the past two weeks, both of which had involved some rather thrilling and intense activities.

"So, a String-puller with a wooden body is truly immune to the cursed knowledge of procreation," the old man mused. "I thought for sure you would try to force yourself on those two women. A pity. I should have tested your knowledge of pseudo-gods instead. Their methods of manifestation are not limited to simple ascension..."

The old man seemed genuinely disappointed as his voice trailed off, but the malice in his words sent a shudder through Magic Miss, who was still behind Jenkins.

Her current state was also non-corporeal, so she had some resistance to the second wave of knowledge. Silver Flute Miss, the only one in a physical body, was deeply unconscious and thus fortunately showed no reaction.

"Well then, shall we begin the third round? Ah, the one over there has passed out. I suppose you two can take her place. So, who will exchange knowledge with me?"

Though he posed the question to them both, the old man's gaze was fixed on Jenkins. He knew the Rune-kin was incapacitated. The protagonist of this scene could only be the strange wooden puppet before him.

Jenkins had no intention of consulting Magic Miss. He already had a plan. The old man before him was going to pay the price for his actions.

"[Knowledge Bestowal]."

He recited the name of the ability in his mind. As his spirit flowed rapidly, two bands of silver light appeared on either side of his body. They were like two rushing rivers, within which countless fragments of memory and knowledge flowed and collided.

But other than Jenkins, no one knew just how terrifying these two bands of light were.

The last time he had bestowed knowledge on the old key keeper, it had triggered a soul mutation, an event that made Jenkins wary. He had come to understand that the collision of abnormal knowledge and a soul didn't always result in severe spiritual damage, which meant one had to be extremely cautious when selecting knowledge as a weapon.

"Is that the Sage Church's [Knowledge Bestowal]?" the old man chuckled. "Interesting. Are you a follower of the Sage? I eagerly await the knowledge you will share with me."

The old man spoke cheerfully, continuously licking his face clean with his tongue. He had yet to realize what the man with roots for feet and tendrils for a face was plotting. But at least maintaining such an optimistic mood might allow him to suffer a little less before he died.

"This is the knowledge I bestow upon you."

As he spoke, Jenkins flicked a wooden finger, sending an irregularly shaped silver sliver flying toward the old man in the wheelchair. The old man made no move to dodge, allowing the sliver to embed itself directly in his head.

"Impressive. This is..."

First, his head exploded from the center, followed by his torso and limbs. His body blew apart, splattering red, white, and black fluids across the surrounding bookshelves. Bones and organs scattered across the floor as various body parts were sent flying in all directions by the sudden blast.

Even after landing, the pieces of his body continued to explode on their own, popping and crackling like a string of lit firecrackers as they bounced off the floor and bookshelves. The man exploded into hundreds of pieces, then thousands, then tens of thousands.

When the final pop and crackle faded, an eerie silence fell over the library. The wheelchair remained in the aisle between the bookshelves, but all around it, there was no trace of the old man.

Blood, flesh, and bone had all been obliterated, leaving not even a speck of ash behind. At least in this space, no living creature remained aside from Jenkins, the two women, and one cat.

"What did you give him?"

Magic Miss's astonished voice came from behind him.

"Some of my travel experiences," Jenkins replied. "As you know, I'm not from Nolan. My hometown is in a very distant land. I can't clearly recall the journey I took to get here... only a vague impression remains..."

It was the vague, bizarre impression Jenkins had from before he arrived in this world. The stranger didn't know the reason he had come here, and his memory of the process was hazy, but he knew one thing for certain: those impressions were more than enough to inflict lethal damage on the old man.

"It seems to have worked a little too well..."

His original plan had been to knock the old man unconscious and then force-feed him the drink. But now he was so thoroughly dead that not even a speck remained, and their mission was still incomplete.

He turned back toward Magic Miss, a bit awkwardly. She flinched, averting her eyes from his face, and only then seemed to realize the situation they were now in.