Chapter 72: Healing Potion
“Although Divine Word doesn’t cause irreversible damage to the body, it still consumes physical strength and mental energy.” Corleon looked at the exhausted Nyx.
Clearly, after listening to the gospel, Nyx should have appeared more youthful, but now he looked even older.
“Yes, of course I know that, but I believe it’s worth it.” Nyx’s voice was weary, but his eyes shone as he looked at the liquid in the glass bottle.
This was the potion he had formulated, capable of accelerating wound healing.
“Using [Enlightenment] to retrieve the recorded material properties, then smelting and fusing them to create a new substance, and finally using [Divine Word] to modify the name of this new substance, making it independent from the original materials—just like that, the effect of the formulated potion will exist like truth itself, eternally.”
Nyx’s voice was filled with wonder.
“Because it is a new name, and before the new name is constructed, the causal link is severed while the enlightened properties of the original materials are still intact.”
“This way, it won’t be affected by the curse of the original materials, preventing mass production failures or mutations.”
Nyx’s eyes burned with fervor, though he had taken a long detour and nearly lost his life just to formulate a single healing potion.
But, relying on the Lord’s Divine Word, he had theoretically achieved the ‘constancy of truth’.
“This is truth!” He caressed the open Divine Word Manuscript on the table.
Naturally, Corleon wouldn’t have Nyx start as a monk.
Naturally, Corleon also taught him what a priest could do.
[Blessing], [Divine Word], [Enlightenment], [Baptism].
Nyx understood the four priestly abilities in just one day.
However, Nyx valued [Enlightenment] and [Divine Word] the most.
The former could reveal a material’s properties in accordance with the Divine Word Manuscript, and the latter could modify a material’s name, making it unaffected by its original properties.
The potion on the table, which Nyx had named the healing potion, was what he had been researching in recent days.
Corleon hadn’t expected that Nyx, with a faith not particularly devout, could, using priest-level Divine Word, complete this forged ‘new material’ in a superimposed state.
“You’re tired, Priest Nyx, you need to rest,” said Corleon.
“No, Corleon... Bishop, you must understand, the appearance of this potion allows people with superficial wounds to be healed, without relying solely on doctors stitching them up and enduring it with their own constitution.” Nyx spoke earnestly.
“This can allow more excellent warriors to survive.”
“Scholars can produce such potions through rituals, but it requires the cooperation of dozens of scholars and still cannot be mass-produced.”
“Yes, I know. This is a great thing, something the Lord will commend. This is your expression of love for the Lord’s people, as a priest,” Corleon said sincerely.
“But, Priest Nyx, if you don’t rest now, Miss Melia may lose her grandfather.”
He knew the potion was precious, but the one who could create it—Nyx—was even more valuable.
Corleon could heal wounds using Enlightenment or Divine Word, but only because he was special.
This level of ability could not be mass-produced.
Nyx fell silent. Melia was his soft spot.
“Alright, Bishop, you are right. I really should get some rest,” Nyx said, sitting down.
“I got too excited.”
“Because of the curse, many of the scholars’ knowledge couldn’t be recorded in documents. At any time, a curse could render the knowledge useless or bring extreme consequences. So scholars have always passed on knowledge orally.”
“But now, with the help of the Lord, I feel many things are possible.”
His voice no longer carried the pathological excitement from earlier, but steadiness tinged with exhilaration.
“For example, once you’re rested, you could write down the formula for this healing potion, so future priests of the Church could also learn how to formulate it,” said Corleon.
“Yes, you’re right,” Nyx smiled.
“You mentioned before that a small chapel would be established in the village, and that the priest would be the one presiding over it, responsible for preaching there,” he said.
“Yes, that’s true. But for now, you are the only priest,” Corleon had to stay at the Sanctuary, and he was now already a bishop, presiding over the grand cathedral.
“I was hoping you’d go to Daniels Village. George is still just a monk, and the small chapel there has already been completed. The atmosphere of faith is safe enough.”
Yes, safe.
After the construction of the Sanctuary, the believers who built it scattered and began living in the village.
Strong in body and enlightened, they stood out clearly from ordinary people, so the local noble families wanted to recruit them.
However, after recruitment, they discovered that these people preached the Lord’s Faith and the Church daily, even engaging in prayer.
And the Church’s Sacrament, which they promoted, attracted many commoners to sneak off and try it.
Because the knights had cleared out the bandits, the risk for villagers sneaking out had greatly decreased.
Soon, the local families realized something was wrong.
But they dared not act directly against the Church—they weren’t sure if it was under the lord’s instructions and needed to wait and see.
Moreover, the Church was no longer just Corleon’s Flower Church.
Naturally, their attitude toward the Church had subtly changed.
Of course, it should now be called the Church proper.
“That place has already become a land of Faith, and right now it needs Monk George more,” Nyx said.
Daniels Village had twenty to thirty believers, mostly “worthless” commoners, who went to work for the Church for less than a month, received generous pay, and had their ailments healed.
The impact was immediate and spread quickly.
The villagers, having lived with them before, naturally knew their conditions.
Yara had already sent three letters—from the first one subtly expressing concern that the commoners seemed troublesome, to the third suggesting that Corleon establish his own village and take the believers away, also requesting that he recall George.
Naturally, Corleon could not agree.
He only replied with a soothing letter, affirming that the Church would not interfere with her governance of the territory, and stating that Ando was very happy at the Church.
After that, Yara never replied again.
“If possible, I’d like to establish a small chapel in Garcia Village.” Nyx took out an opened letter, the wax seal on it still bearing the Knight Wolf family crest.
“The Knight Wolf has already extended an invitation to me.”
Garcia Village was the Knight Wolf’s fief.
“Is it safe there?” Corleon frowned.
“Now that the lord has departed, the Knight Wolf, who manages military affairs in the York territory, holds a crucial attitude toward the Church,” Nyx said.
After a month of conscription, the marquis’ army finally began moving south.
The lord chose to send troops to assist the marquis, in exchange for peace in the York territory.
“The Lord loves all people, and the gentry and nobles should also feel the Lord’s compassion and teachings.” Nyx placed his hand on the Divine Word Manuscript.
Compared to Corleon, he understood politics better.
And now, having become a priest and experienced the Lord’s greatness, he understood more clearly that as the Church grew, it would inevitably clash with those in power.
Just like scholars and magicians.
So he was preparing to cooperate with the Knight Wolf.
This healing potion was the token of his sincerity.
“I see.” Corleon closed his eyes with a frown, and when he opened them again, his brows had relaxed slightly.
“Then the priest shall go the day after tomorrow, and bring some special gifts to the Knight Wolf.”