Late at night, the Letania Church was unusually lit with all its candles. Brother Martin, still shaken, stared at the giant salamander placed in the center of the church, while beside him, Mayor Thomas wore a look of shock mixed with curiosity.

The panic that had gripped the small town earlier in the night had now subsided. Not long ago, just as Brother Martin borrowed the unicorn carriage and Mayor Thomas was frantically setting up defenses, Father Andre and Olovice returned. They brought back a dead giant red lizard—a salamander.

Mayor Thomas had the police officers patrol the town in shifts to ensure the safety of the residents before he had the chance to come to Letania Church.

“This giant lizard really holds a grudge,” Mayor Thomas said, circling the creature. He was well aware of Father Andre’s heroic tale of driving away the evil salamander. Back then, the mayor was his father, and he was only ten years old, locked at home by his strict father, forbidden to join the excitement. Now, at forty-five, thirty-five years had passed in the blink of an eye. This time, he witnessed firsthand the magical beast that had terrified the town’s residents during his childhood.

At this moment, Olovice, like Mayor Thomas, was also observing it. It was a fiery red adult salamander over three meters long and about one and a half meters tall, with a sturdy body and a thick tail, covered in dark red scales. It lay on the stone floor of the church, occupying most of the space.

As a country bumpkin seeing a magical creature for the first time, Olovice stood before the giant salamander, looking up at the drooping ear flaps on either side of its head. Due to its death, the massive red ear flaps hung limply together, piled on the ground, appearing bloated and thick, unlike their upright state in life. According to books, when salamanders attack, their ear flaps quickly swell, connecting with their neck muscles, and their hearing becomes more acute.

The salamander killed by Father Andre was undoubtedly a healthy and superior adult. Olovice compared it with his hand and found that the salamander’s ear flaps were as long as one of his arms, not counting the part dragging on the ground. One could imagine that when this salamander got angry, its ear flaps would spread like bird wings, creating strong winds, combined with its thick yet agile tail, venomous fangs, and hard scales. Olovice took a light breath.

“What a dangerous big fellow,” Mayor Thomas voiced Olovice’s thoughts, and Olovice wholeheartedly agreed.

“Father, can I pay to buy the skin of this creature? I want a new leather armor for hunting in the fall,” Mayor Thomas had a new idea, stroking his small mustache as he asked Father Andre, clearly tempted.

“Mayor, forgive me, but I cannot agree. Salamanders are dangerous magical creatures. Even though it’s dead, its blood and skin still contain toxins. If an ordinary person comes into contact with it, they will die instantly, and even the church’s holy water cannot save your life,” Father Andre said seriously.

“Oh, oh, I understand.” Hearing the priest’s words, Thomas immediately dismissed the idea and silently stepped back a few steps, distancing himself from the beast. He didn’t stay long before leaving with his servant, as it was already very late.

After Mayor Thomas left, Father Andre stepped forward, looked at the magical creature, and said to Olovice, “Olovice, you’re strong. Drag it to the basement.”

Martin put on gloves and said, “Olovice, I’ll give you a hand.”

Sister Hiran made a cross on her chest, relieved, “Thank the Light, no one was hurt.”

Olovice also wore gloves. His body was about 1.9 meters tall and surprisingly strong. He grabbed the salamander’s tail and dragged it away from the center of the church, carrying it on his back, avoiding the altar, passing the confessionals on both sides, and turning left to reach the entrance to the church basement.

The basement entrance was hidden, with the entire wall being an old, yellowed relief, depicting the favored Holy Son and Holy Daughter under the Father, serving on either side, with the iconic symbol of the Light Cross in the middle—a cross surrounded by lines of varying lengths, symbolizing light, as if glowing.

As the most mainstream orthodox church of the true god in the Kingdom of Hearn, the Light Cross Church’s Father has no human image. It always presents its divine emblem to the people. Olovice understood the church’s approach.

God is often more of a symbol; you cannot define God’s appearance, or it loses its sanctity.

Olovice quickly stopped his thoughts, glancing guiltily at the Light Cross necklace around his neck. In his previous life as an atheist, now in a world with true gods, Olovice sometimes couldn’t change his ingrained beliefs, even though he could now emit holy light.

Brother Martin pushed open the relief door, revealing the basement entrance—a wide spiral staircase.

Olovice adjusted the salamander on his back, secured it, and prepared to descend.

“A salamander? Where did you catch it?” Mr. Briel, looking sleepy, asked Olovice and the magical creature on his back in surprise.

“Mr. Briel, you slept soundly tonight,” Brother Martin briefly explained what happened, “This salamander tried to attack the town earlier tonight, and the priest killed it.”

Mr. Briel scratched his messy white hair, “Sorry, I’m old, and my energy isn’t what it used to be. I just slept through it.”

He leaned on his cane, “I’ll go see if Father Andre needs the help of this natural priest.”

Olovice descended the stairs. The most valuable part of Letania Church was probably the Spiritual Room in the basement. It used to be Father Andre’s workshop, but since Olovice became his student, the Spiritual Room was shared between them.

Rumor has it that Spiritual Rooms in big cities even have guardian spirits.

Olovice placed the salamander’s body in the Spiritual Room. Every Light Cross Church has a Spiritual Room. The basic version can make holy water, brew potions, and heal injuries. To Olovice, the Spiritual Room is a secondary layered spirit-gathering magic array with some defensive power. With it, his holy spirit power becomes more stable and effective.

Olovice didn’t stay long in the Spiritual Room and quickly returned to the church. Father Andre was injured in the hunt, and he wanted to visit his teacher.

Sister Hiran, seeing Olovice looking for his teacher, smiled, “The priest and the old gentleman went to the study on the second floor.”

After thanking Sister Hiran, Olovice crossed the garden behind the church, went upstairs, and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Father Andre said.

Upon entering, Olovice found Mr. Briel still there. The study window was wide open, and an owl perched on the windowsill.

Olovice glanced at the owl.

Father Andre had taken off his priest’s black robe and unbuttoned his shirt. Mr. Briel was healing the priest’s waist wound, his hand emitting a green glow, slowly healing the priest’s injury.

Olovice frowned at the sight of his teacher’s waist, clearly wounded by the salamander’s claws.

“Don’t worry, Olovice,” Father Andre reassured his student with a smile, “It’s just a flesh wound. It’ll heal in a few weeks.”

“Thanks to you, El,” Andre said, “I didn’t expect you to be a patriarch of the Natural God Religion.”

“No need to thank me,” Mr. Briel put down his hand, hesitated, and reminded, “Priest, the salamander’s fire poison in your body has been there for many years. If not resolved, I’m afraid it will…”

“It’s fine, it’s an old problem,” Father Andre waved it off, buttoning his shirt.

“Mr. Briel, is there any way to resolve the salamander’s fire poison in my teacher’s body?” Olovice asked seriously. He wasn’t surprised that Mr. Briel could use magic. After all, an old man crossing war-torn international waters and dangerous seas to reach the southern continent of Hearn couldn’t be ordinary. Moreover, it’s not unusual for church clergy to know some magic.

For example, he could emit holy light.

But he didn’t expect Mr. Briel to be a patriarch.

In terms of church positions in Hearn, it was equivalent to a priest in a big city, maybe even a bishop. But how did he become a vagabond and crippled? Couldn’t he heal himself? Olovice hid his confusion.

“It’s incurable, Olovice, let it go,” Father Andre instead advised.

“How do you know if you don’t try?” Olovice didn’t want to give up, “Is it because there’s not enough money to buy potion materials? I can paint more, earn more money.”

“It’s not about money,” Father Andre looked at his concerned student, his wrinkled face showing a comforting smile. He said gently, “Although the salamander is a mid-level magical creature, it’s a major branch of the high-level corrosive lizard. Its venom can instantly shrivel a church enforcer into a mummy.”

Father Andre was open-minded, “Its fire poison is also known as the fire of desiccation. When the church learned I was poisoned, they immediately sent me a seahorse brain potion. Unfortunately, the situation was urgent, and the main ingredient was missing, so my condition couldn’t be completely cured.”

“What’s missing?” Olovice blurted out.

“Mermaid tears,” Mr. Briel said, “Currently, the only known mermaids are in the Gamo Sea of the Furious Sea.”

Olovice was stunned for a moment, then remembered that in this world, mermaids weren’t just fairy tales but real. Not only did they exist, but they were also mythical-level magical creatures. They were protective, aggressive, dangerous, fierce, and possessed intelligence that other magical creatures lacked. They lived in groups and often caused storms to capsize passing ships. Don’t misunderstand; mermaids aren’t looking for love with humans. On the contrary, they see humans as snacks.

Edible ones.

Now, with the Storm God Religion at sea, mermaid sightings have become rarer.

But catching a mermaid is extremely difficult. Their whereabouts are extremely secretive, and seeing one in a hundred years is considered a miracle.

Not to mention, the sea is their domain.

So mermaid tears have always ranked in the top five of potion ingredients. Olovice once saw the potion rankings in a book and was dazzled by the zeros, unable to count them all.

Olovice pressed his lips together, then suddenly looked up at his teacher, “I’ll do my best to find mermaid tears.”

He could tell that Father Andre’s physical condition was actually good, just burdened by the fire poison in his body.

Father Andre felt even more affection, “Olovice, you don’t have to do this. I’ve lived well all these years.”

Olovice poured a cup of sunflower tea for his teacher and another for Mr. Briel.

“Hehe, aren’t you going to give a cup to the owl lady?” Mr. Briel looked at the owl on the windowsill.

Olovice gained a new understanding of the strength of a patriarch of the Natural God Religion.

He approached the newly acquainted Black Swamp Witch. Not long ago, in the dense forest, he saw this owl transform into a person before his eyes, then angrily complained about why Father Andre acted so impulsively, not waiting for her to deal with the salamander together.

In Olovice’s stunned state, Father Andre awkwardly introduced him to the Black Swamp Witch, Lady Grace.

On the way back, Lady Grace kept grumbling about the teacher’s solo duel with the salamander and didn’t show him a good face.

But she probably wasn’t bad-hearted because when Olovice dragged the salamander’s body, Grace supported the teacher and bandaged him.

The owl watched Mr. Briel with its pale yellow eyes, silent.

“Hello, Miss Witch, I’m from Abizan, a patriarch of the Natural God Religion. Nice to meet you,” Mr. Briel said, his light green eyes filled with affection.

Nature and forests are always connected. Sensing the lush greenery and vitality of the dense forest, Mr. Briel was sure this witch took good care of her forest. He liked this type of witch, not those who recklessly conducted flesh experiments and casually discarded potion waste, polluting the forest’s life and air.

The owl flapped its wings and flew away.

“Seems like a tsundere witch,” Mr. Briel shrugged and left the study.

Olovice was about to close the window when he noticed the owl flapping back. Olovice wanted to laugh; perhaps Mr. Briel was right.

“What are you laughing at?” the owl fluffed up.

Olovice gently placed the owl on the desk, “I’m not laughing.”

The owl pecked at Olovice’s finger, making it feel ticklish.

During this time, the owl kept watching him with its large pale yellow eyes, as if observing something.

Olovice’s shoulder felt heavy as the owl flew onto it, leaning against his hair, its eyes almost reaching his.

Olovice blinked, not understanding what the owl wanted.

The owl flew to the desk, and Olovice noticed a small crystal ball hanging from its neck.

After a while, Olovice realized that crystal balls were also a signature item for witches. Which witch didn’t have a crystal ball?

“Alright, maybe you’re a good person…” the owl said, pacing on the desk.

Olovice was amused. Had he done something to make this witch misunderstand?

Grace watched the young man pouring sunflower tea for her.

His appearance was too exceptional, with golden wavy hair shimmering like sunlight, so pure and radiant. No wonder the twilight fairies in the forest were obsessed, wanting his hair to build nests and weave blankets.

His temperament was also very tolerant and gentle, even though she hadn’t been kind to him along the way. He was serious and responsible, diligent and smart in learning, respectful to his teacher, kind-hearted, and helpful.

No matter how she looked, he seemed flawless.

Even her opinion of him wavered.

The owl paced back and forth, caught in a dilemma, but she couldn’t forget that rainy night a year and a half ago.

When she first discovered this young man suddenly entering the dense forest, the priest hadn’t arrived yet. She was alone, transformed into an owl, watching him walk in the rain.

Although puzzled about where he came from, Grace decided to scare him away. The dense forest was her territory, and she didn’t want humans entering.

But as she watched, Grace realized something was wrong with this young man. No, it was extremely wrong!

The young man’s perfect face was wet, walking expressionlessly. His walking posture was strange, like a broken clockwork doll, moving his left hand and foot, then his right hand and foot. How odd, with small movements, yet eerie, reminding Grace of an alchemical doll.

She flew in front of him, finding his gaze empty and lifeless. Even when she flew past him, his eyes didn’t move at all. He just mechanically walked.

Like a soulless shell.

But he was clearly human, a flesh-and-blood human, because he didn’t know how to avoid obstacles. He fell hard, got injured, and bled, but he didn’t care, as if he couldn’t feel pain, his body stiffly continuing to walk.

Grace was scared.

He stepped off a slope and fell heavily. For a long time, he didn’t move. Grace saw he had no consciousness, or maybe he never had consciousness.

He just stood up, wobbling, about to fall again.

But in an instant, lightning illuminated the night, and rain poured down.

Grace couldn’t clearly describe what she saw in that flash of lightning. Nothing happened; the rain still fell, the wind still blew, but it was different.

Those empty, inorganic beautiful blue eyes seemed to be infused with some soul.

He suddenly became more human.

He knew to walk and stop, even knew to avoid the rain. Although his movements weren’t coordinated, he gradually became more human.

Grace was terrified beyond measure, regretting sending the twilight fairies to bring Father Andre to the forest.

Just as she wanted to stop Andre from coming, Father Andre had already found him.

A pitiful, scarred, disheveled, and soul-infused him.

Grace almost wanted to scream.

Father Andre was exceptionally kind to this young man, pouring his life’s effort into him. Several times, Grace wanted to tell him the truth, not wanting Father Andre to get deeper.

But every time she remembered the young man’s appearance in the forest, she couldn’t help but fear.

She had nightmares for several nights.

In the nightmares, Olovice’s blue eyes weren’t as clear and deep as the sea but revealed a bone-chilling coldness and soul-freezing cruelty.

Emotionless, soulless, inhuman.

Completely different from the current Olovice.