Lord of The Mysterious Realms Chapter 940

"I've been scared of clowns since I was little. When the nuns would take us to festivals, I never went to see them. They're just hideous."

Miss Capet’s soft complaint reached his ears, only to be drowned out by the terrifying whispers that followed.

He could make out the content of the whispers—they seemed to be the grumblings of a circus audience, punctuated by hysterical laughter and the wretched wails of a woman. The murmurs gradually faded, replaced by the sharp, splintering sound of a mirror shattering in his ears.

In that instant, everything before him blurred. Even the cat on his shoulder vanished. He was left standing alone in a vast, empty expanse of darkness, his own body the only source of light.

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He muttered to himself, raised a fist, and charged. His body crashed through the flower shop's display window as his fist connected with the red-haired clown's face. The darkness vanished instantly, and he heard Miss Capet's footsteps hurrying to catch up.

The illusion wasn't spatial displacement; as long as he focused on the point of light, he could find the clown's position. That part wasn't difficult.

The red-haired clown hadn't even tried to dodge Jenkins's attack. He got to his feet, giggling, and let the frost creep across his body. Tilting his head, he stared at Jenkins and Miss Capet before pointing a finger at them.

Something like a cannonball from a steam-powered cannon shot past them, and the flower shop behind them erupted in an explosion. A huntress leaped from the flames, carrying Miss Knight. Jenkins reached for them as Miss Capet stepped in front of the trio, flicking her right hand to send an arc of light hurtling toward the clown.

Yet again, he didn't dodge. He simply let the brilliant arc of light shear off his right arm. As he raised his left hand, the huntress had already flung out a handful of talismans.

The huntress yelled, and together with Jenkins, they supported the still-dazed Miss Knight and ran in the opposite direction. The explosive talismans she'd thrown triggered a chain reaction, and Jenkins had every reason to believe they weren't standard issue—even Miss Capet, bringing up the rear, was nearly swept up in the blast wave.

As they ran, Jenkins reached out and placed a hand on Miss Capet's injured arm. A flicker of green light restored her skin, leaving it smooth and unblemished. She nodded her thanks, then her eyes suddenly shot wide as she stared at his left shoulder.

Jenkins felt it too. A hand was resting there.

He yelled to his companions, then spun around and threw a punch at the clown. This time, the creature didn't just take the hit. Amidst a peal of grotesque laughter, it deftly met Jenkins's fist with its own.

In terms of raw strength, there seemed to be little difference between them. But the moment their fists collided, a strange repulsive force slammed into Jenkins, launching him backward like a cannonball into a nearby lamppost.

Miss Capet, standing nearby, heard the distinct crack of breaking bone. The lamppost itself was even bent from the impact.

But the women didn't leave him to fend for himself. The huntress, who had been in the lead, unceremoniously dropped Miss Knight and turned back to help.

She chanted under her breath as she ran through the mist. A golden light radiated from her feet, spreading outward until an aura enveloped her companions, filling each of them with a surge of power.

Miss Capet, assuming Jenkins was incapacitated, reached out to heal him. The visual effect of her healing ability was strikingly similar to his own Contact Healing, but the results were far less impressive.

The churches of the Righteous Gods—the Spirit of All Things and the Earth Mother—had a far higher proportion of healers than any other faith. Yet, few of their abilities offered the kind of instantaneous, side-effect-free healing that Jenkins could provide. It was one of the reasons he was known as the most exceptional healer in the entire Nolan diocese.

By the time Jenkins had scrambled back to his feet, made sure Chocolate was secure, and returned to the fight alongside Miss Capet, the huntress was in a desperate situation.

The red-haired clown attacking them seemed capable of teleporting through the mist and possessed a wide array of supernatural powers. Empowered by an aura of war and divine arts of strength, the huntress should have held the advantage in close combat. Yet the clown was always just a fraction faster, a hair stronger. In a short amount of time, that small edge had become insurmountable, and the huntress was already struggling to defend herself.

With a sharp exhale, Jenkins fused with the Fire of Grace, his body transforming once more into a near-elemental form. His flaming fist shot past the ends of the huntress's hair and collided with the clown's seemingly powerless one. To his surprise, the clown's strength was still slightly greater than his own.

But the undying nature of the Fire of Grace took hold. The flames crawled up the clown's glove and spread along its arm. The creature immediately retreated a step, whipped out a dinner knife from its belt, and hacked off its own burning arm. Then, with a great leap backward, it vanished into the fog once more.

"Watch out," the huntress warned, clutching her chest as Miss Capet tended to her. "He always seems to be just a little bit stronger than me, and he can heal any wound instantly. It's not a coincidence. It has to be one of his abilities."

The huntress clutched her chest as Miss Capet treated her. The young woman from the Church of All Things and Nature wasn't a fighter, but she was incredibly capable in a support role. Jenkins recalled her mentioning earlier that evening that she was also an alchemist.

A silver dinner knife shot out of the fog, aimed at the two women, but Miss Capet deflected it with a dagger she produced from her boot.

Jenkins flicked his wrist, sending a sliver of silver light into the depths of the fog, but there was no response. He activated Blasphemous Creation again, but it detected no targets nearby besides the three women.

For a moment, Jenkins's eyes seemed to glow. The combination of darkness and fog was causing his Eye of Reality to behave erratically for the first time. He scanned the area, his gaze sweeping past even Chocolate, who was perched on a wall watching the spectacle, but he couldn't find a trace of the red-haired clown.

"You two, be careful," Jenkins said. "This thing is... strange. I don't think it's gone."

He had barely spoken when he heard the whistle of air behind him. Jenkins deftly sidestepped, dodging the clown's attempt to rip out his heart, then twisted his body at an unnatural angle to throw a punch at its head.

It just kept grinning its grotesque smile. Its neck snapped to the side at a ninety-degree angle as if broken, dodging Jenkins's punch. A new right hand—grown back at some point—swung forward, but Jenkins batted its wrist aside with his left hand, and the clown's fist slid through empty air.