Chapter 118 – Bahanger

Punk carefully examined the gray threads on the experimental subject’s bones using “Microscopic Examination.”

Under the illumination of “Dancing Lights,” the true nature of the gray threads became clear to Punk, causing his brow to furrow slightly.

“This is…”

From a microscopic perspective, Punk saw countless strange gray cells packed closely together, interconnected to form the “gray threads” visible to the naked eye.

These cells were slightly smaller than ordinary cells and possessed semi-energy-based bodies. Their energy level was sufficient to render the immune systems of ordinary humans—devoid of supernatural energy—almost entirely ineffective.

Unlike ordinary cells that exchange substances through cell membranes, these gray cells had a “head” featuring a large mouth filled with virus-sized energy-based teeth, making them appear as terrifying as miniature ancient beasts.

These “cells” did not feed through absorption but through—hunting!

With his Formal-Level mental perception, Punk could keenly sense the strength of those microscopic teeth. Combined with the power contained within the semi-energy bodies of the “gray thread cells,” directly devouring bone matter was an easy task.

Most alarmingly, after the “gray thread cells” consumed the bone and divided, they would fill the voids in the skeleton and connect their own vitality with that of the infected organism.

This ability rendered many divine spells ineffective at curing the disease, as, from the perspective of lower-level divine magic, these cells had already become part of the human body.

“What a troublesome disease. I wonder how Tisha Xia’er managed to create it.”

Punk discarded the half-piece of bone in his hand, speculating that Tisha Xia’er must have been a highly intelligent spider before her madness from faith corruption. Such a disease couldn’t be controlled so easily.

Punk had also gained considerable insight into the disease’s transmission method. Recalling the massive disappearance of Duowei Flowers in the forest and the sudden rise of a new, cheap perfume guild that swiftly broke the Doctore Family’s monopoly and captured most of the perfume market, it became clear.

Evidently, the initial vector for this disease was the cheap perfume. This low-quality fragrance, commonly used by ordinary people, had unwittingly become an accomplice to the epidemic.

After studying the disease, the next step was to experiment with treatment methods. At this point, Punk recalled the two jars he had retrieved from the High Priest in the Spider Cave.

Judging from the High Priest’s remaining alchemical equipment, his work deep in the cave likely involved concocting certain potions. The liquids in these two jars were undoubtedly crucial. Punk estimated there was at least an 80% chance they were potions brewed by the High Priest, or at the very least, important ingredients.

Placing the two sealed iron jars side by side on an empty table, Punk fortified himself with three additional spell defenses, including “Mental Barrier,” before using Mage Hand from a distance to open the jars.

With a crisp clang as the iron lids hit the ground, the contents of the jars were exposed to the air.

The jar on the far left contained a continuously churning, dark yellow liquid. The semi-transparent, crystalline fluid carried strong energy fluctuations of faith power.The jar on the right contained a vibrant emerald gelatinous fluid, which, as a semi-energy substance, emitted a peculiar energy wave resembling a magnetic field.

Punk noticed that the “gray filament cells” on the nearby bones touched by the fluctuations exhibited a panicked “emotion.”” They began writhing in a futile attempt to escape, manifesting macroscopically as if all the gray filaments covering the bones were squirming.

“It seems this is the antidote Tisha Xia’er uses to treat the ‘gray filament’ disease,” Punk thought to himself with quiet delight. He had initially expected to spend a long time developing a suitable drug, never anticipating that Tisha Xia’er would be so “kind” as to have already prepared the remedy.

Upon reflection, however, this made sense. After all, Tisha Xia’er’s purpose in releasing the plague was to coerce the citizens into joining her religion, not to carry out a terroristic massacre. She needed to ensure her followers survived to harvest their faith.

As for the other jar of murky yellow liquid, it was clearly Tisha Xia’er’s means of brainwashing her followers. The faith power contained within it required only a tiny amount to assimilate an ordinary person’s soul and devour any insufficiently resolute will.

“Presumably, the so-called ‘Holy Water’ is a mixture of these two drugs with some ordinary water, resulting in a brainwashing concoction with healing properties,” Punk deduced.

Having uncovered the secret of the “Holy Water,” Punk felt more confident in his plan to team up and “raid” Tisha Xia’er. These two jars of potions could definitively prove the Tisha Xia’er Church’s identity as a Cult. Under such circumstances, the Benevolent God Church would have ample justification to take action against the Tisha Xia’er Church.

“Although the priests stationed in Doleiz City are mostly low-powered minor characters, they’ll make excellent cannon fodder for scouting,” Punk mused, a sly glint flashing in his eyes. The unfortunate priests in Doleiz City had no idea they were being manipulated by Punk as expendable pawns—it seemed they couldn’t escape this “selfless” role.

Moreover, Punk had no intention of publicizing the antidote or information about the disease. The current chaos in Doleiz City was perfect for him to fish in troubled waters and lay his groundwork, because…

“Legendary Equipment is absolutely essential!”

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Bahang Hammer, like all dwarves, loved forging and fine ale, and despised giants and elves. As a Formal-Level warrior, he had remained in Doleiz City to fulfill a promise made in his youth, pledging lifelong protection to the Heide Family. Over time, his passion for adventure had gradually cooled. Truth be told, Bahang was quite satisfied with this arrangement—being free to drink heartily and forge weapons was, in a dwarf warrior’s eyes, comparable to living in Moradin’s God Realm.

Lately, Bahang had been even happier because he had acquired a small piece of Mithril¹ on the black market.

This was an extremely precious alchemical metal. Rumor had it that at least one Ukrainian (equivalent to 1.5 tons of pure silver was required to refine just one Doran (equivalent to 1.3 grams) of Mithril, with the process being tedious and complex. Thus, the rarity of Mithril spoke for itself.For the past few months, the dwarf had been meticulously forging this piece of Mithril. He intended to use it to reinforce his hammer. As for matters like the plague, Bahanger considered them completely irrelevant to himself. As long as Getela remained unharmed, he needn’t concern himself with anything else. Bahanger had always prided himself on being a dwarf who knew better than to meddle in others’ affairs.

But while he avoided trouble, trouble came seeking him. Following the greedy Hett, another uninvited guest abruptly paid him a visit.

Just as Bahanger was fully immersed in hammering the Mithril, his Battle Aura perception suddenly detected a slender yet explosively powerful figure standing outside his door.

“Oh damn, another fool disturbing old bad-tempered Bahanger! If you don’t give me a reasonable explanation, I’ll stick you headfirst into the forging furnace!”

Though grumbling curses, Bahanger still went to open the door carrying his hammer. After all, this visitor wasn’t a minor nuisance like Hett, but a genuine Formal-Level powerhouse.

(End of Chapter)