Lord of The Mysterious Realms-Chapter 53: The Old Castle
Jenkins leaped down from the tree, giving a nod to the black-robed figure who brushed past him, then made his way over to Skylark Miss.
"I'm interested in that chained ability," he stated plainly.
He was direct about it.
"I only accept items in trade. I have no need for money."
Skylark Miss wasn't surprised, nor did she question whether Jenkins even had so many empty bubbles.
"That complicates things."
Jenkins clearly hadn't considered that. Papa Oliver knew about most of the Extraordinary items in his possession, so he couldn't risk trading them and exposing his identity. The Mr. Hunt's Fruit Platter and a starry badge that Papa Oliver didn't know about were of little value, and Skylark Miss would never agree to such a trade.
"In that case, could you hold it for me for a little while? I doubt there are many people in Nolan who'd be interested in an ability that takes up three bubbles."
"Of course. If you still want to make a deal within the next three weeks, you can find me here."
She had clearly come prepared, handing Jenkins a small slip of paper. He pocketed it without looking.
"I was hoping you could tell me a little more about what the ability does."
"Certainly. The three lesser abilities aren't much on their own, but when combined, they form an incredibly potent support ability."
"Support?"
Jenkins couldn't hide his disappointment.
"Yes. For a limited time, it can block all forms of mental damage."
He left the cemetery feeling a thrill of excitement. Weaving through the city streets, he carefully avoided patrolling officers and drunks retching against the walls before finally making it back home.
Skylark Miss was as cautious as he'd expected; the note was composed of letters cut and pasted from a newspaper. It directed him to a small alley in the slums. All he had to do was draw a specific symbol on a wall during the day, and she would appear that night to make the trade.
"I hope I can come up with something soon. Pops Antique Shop is back to normal business tomorrow. Maybe my luck will turn."
With that thought, he drifted off to a peaceful sleep.
Jenkins's hopes, however, were dashed. The next few days were uneventful, and he was finally able to get some much-needed rest.
On Thursday morning, as Jenkins arrived at Fifth Queen's Avenue for work, Papa Oliver was just heading out the door. He hailed a carriage that was about to depart.
"Come with me!"
Without another word, he pulled Jenkins along, and they hastily scrambled into the carriage.
"Enton Town."
He snapped the destination at the coachman.
"That's a fair distance."
The haggard-looking coachman answered, his response sluggish.
"If we can get there before noon, I'll add another fifty percent to your fare."
The carriage set off at once, leaving Jenkins still trying to figure out what was going on.
Papa Oliver's face was alight with excitement. He set his briefcase to one side, wedging it against the carriage wall with his leg. "A few days ago, a duke from the royal capital, Bel Diran, passed away. He owned a castle here that he never used, and his heir has decided to sell it. The new buyer, it seems, isn't interested in paying for the contents—he just wants the estate. That's where we come in."
"Picking a country estate clean?"
Jenkins chuckled at his own turn of phrase, but it seemed that was exactly what they were doing.
"When did you hear about this, Papa Oliver?"
"Just now. Damn it, I overslept. Our competitors are probably already on their way. Did you know? Duke Francis's castle here is five centuries old. It was built during the kingdom's civil wars and served as a sanctuary for a very prestigious local family. After changing hands a few times, it was sold to the old duke as a summer retreat, a place to escape the heat by the Nolan coast. No damn factories out in the country, better air. And the best part is, there's no record of the furniture or decorations ever being sold off in bulk since the day it was built."
Papa Oliver grew more animated as he spoke, recounting the castle's history in a rapid-fire monologue. It was only then that Jenkins finally understood the situation:
"So you're saying it's probably full of priceless antiques?"
"It's better than that!"
Papa Oliver curled his lip in a disdainful smirk. "The young Duke Francis who inherited the title has sent one of his good-for-nothing cousins to oversee the sale. I hear the man hasn't set foot in the castle since arriving in Nolan. The only one there now is an old butler. Heh... this is our chance to strike it rich!"
As he spoke, he shot a glance at the coachman, who was focused on the road. Then, he reached into the inner pocket of his old black coat and, keeping a hard object concealed beneath the fabric, passed it to Jenkins.
"Another pistol?"
Jenkins's heart skipped a beat, but he was careful not to let his shock show, lest he alarm the coachman.
"We're just going to buy antiques. Do we really need this kind of... tool?"
"Of course. Better to be prepared. It's essential. By the way, did you make those preparations I told you about?"
Jenkins froze for a moment before realizing Papa Oliver was talking about the "luck-turning ritual."
It was a special ritual from the Church's collection, one that was said to be able to change a person's luck for a short period. But luck was an intangible thing—unseen, untouched, and impossible to quantify. The Church's records no longer held any information on the ritual's origins, so its effectiveness remained purely anecdotal.
There were many rituals that claimed to alter one's fortune, but the ones with any significant effect all required vast quantities of rare materials. If it were merely a matter of cost, Jenkins could have gritted his teeth and borrowed a few gold pounds from Papa Oliver. But rituals involving luck also had to be performed at specific times of the year.
So Jenkins had been forced to settle for the cheapest, most unreliable one. Fortunately, the records indicated it had no harmful side effects—other than costing a bit of money and lightening his wallet.
Having spent so much learning new rituals lately, Jenkins's savings were nearly gone. He was banking on his recently printed "Stranger's Story Collection" to be a bestseller, while also hoping the reward from the Church headquarters in the capital would include a cash prize.
On that stormy night, he had tossed his two shoddy explosive talismans to no effect. As a result, he currently had no ranged weapons. Papa Oliver had shared with him the crafting methods for some of the more dangerous items in his personal collection, but Jenkins hadn't managed to gather enough materials for either the "Drowned Man's Bone," which only lasted a day, or the cheaper "Minor Frost Enchantment."
Papa Oliver claimed to have all the necessary materials himself but insisted that a proper Enchanter must learn to gather such things on their own.
With a steady clip-clop of hooves, the carriage left the city limits behind. The smog blanketing the sky began to thin. True to his word, the coachman earned his bonus fare from Papa Oliver.
As Jenkins followed Papa Oliver down a small path leading out of town, briefcase in hand, the coachman tipped his hat and gave them a bow.
The building, known as Verne Castle, was just outside the town. After less than a ten-minute walk, its spires came into view.
Jenkins had imagined it would be little more than a large country manor, but he was surprised to see it was a genuine castle.
.
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Chapter 53: The Old Castle
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