17

Chapter Seventeen - "Sacred Collection"

"A rune for a green chip grass is acceptable, even though it's already more expensive than the herbal shop's price," Forseti remarked.

"Agreed."

Tialfi pondered for a moment. "But green chip grass isn't common. I can't guarantee finding it tomorrow, or even for a while."

"That's fine. I'll come by here every noon from now on. Whenever you locate green chip grass, you can sell it to me," Forseti replied.

He then added, "My name is Forseti."

Tialfi nodded. "Okay."

"Thank you," Forseti smiled.

Returning home from Landvety Town, Forseti opened the sacred tome, donated dozens of large gold coins for piety, and set aside just over four runes for purchasing green chip grass.

Despite the exchange rate of runes to large gold coins being one to one hundred, Forseti had long observed that runes were significantly undervalued in such transactions. It was always more economical to convert runes into gold.

It seemed that Holy light had a fondness for gold.

To Forseti's surprise, as dozens of gold coins vanished into the devout shop, the sacred tome suddenly shimmered, displaying a line of text: accumulated piety reached 100, unlocking the "Sacred Collection."

A sacred tome?

Forseti was taken aback as he turned the pages, discovering that this "Sacred Collection" contained all the spells of the Paladins. There were dozens of spells intricately interconnected and arranged in a skill tree format. However, most were grayed out, labeled as "unacquired."

Only two spells were illuminated: the top-tier spell, "Holy Light Inspiration," marked as "Acquired," and the second-tier spell, "Light Strike," marked as "Buyable Spell Fragments."

Several other spells on the second tier—like "Judgment," "Divine Protection," and "Blind Light"—remained grayed out, awaiting the accumulation of sanctity from the Ten Sins to qualify for spell fragment purchase.

The spells on the third tier were similarly unlit. According to the labels above, lighting up the third tier required mastery of all the second-tier spells.

Forseti continued reading down the page and found the final tier mirrored the first, with only one spell available: "Holy Shield."

In the gaming world, while Holy Shield was potent, it wasn't infallible and occasionally succumbed to the plot.

Reality differed. In reality, brief invulnerability could alter many outcomes, making Holy Shield a supreme spell.

"Jing Si" remained excluded from the sacred tome, an unconventional spell akin to the coercive skills in the game.

After thoroughly studying the sacred tome, Forseti suddenly recalled that he could now purchase the spell fragments for "Light Strike."

Quickly checking the price—0.99 .

The price was reasonable. Forseti deliberated briefly before purchasing over ninety fragments of "Light Strike," using up the remaining balance to reach exactly one hundred.

Instantly, the holy deed glimmered with a faint golden light. Forseti turned the page to find the spellbook for "Light Strike."

Seeing this, a smile crept onto his face.

Finally, he could learn a useful spell, albeit the most basic one for Paladins.

Thinking so, he devoted himself to studying "Holy Light Strike," occasionally emanating a faint holy light from his hands...

The following noon.

Forseti returned to the Brave Hunter Tavern, relishing two grilled lamb chops before sitting quietly, waiting for Tialfi, while reflecting on his studies of "Holy Light Strike."

Intuitively, mastering "Holy Light Strike" would prove as challenging as "Holy Light Inspiration." Based on his learning pace with the latter, "Holy Light Strike" would likely require more than ten days...

After a while, Tialfi entered the tavern with two sheep slung over his shoulders.

"How did it go, Tialfi? Have you found the green chip grass?" Forseti inquired as he approached.

"Luck was on my side; I found two," Tialfi replied, pulling out a cloth bag from his waist and handing it to Forseti.

Forseti opened the bag to find two fresh, green "green chip grasses" inside. He withdrew two runes and passed them to Tialfi with a smile. "Thank you. May luck favor you every day."

After bidding farewell to Tialfi, Forseti hurried home, eager to begin producing the hair restorer.

Given the scarcity and expense of green chip grass, Forseti purchased another spell fragment, "Jing Si," to deal with the herb's uncommon status.

Several hours later, having processed the two green chip grasses, Forseti continued refining the "Flash Grass," ultimately preparing two vials of Andorov's hair restorer.

Yet, holding the two vials in his hands, Forseti furrowed his brow slightly, contemplating something.

Since curing Boss Taylor's baldness, he had begun to suspect something: the standard dose of hair restorer might be excessive.

Put simply, most bald individuals likely didn't require a full dosage for their treatment. Administering a full dose would waste both medicine and the patient's money.

A shameful waste, undoubtedly.

After some thought, Forseti nodded to himself, privately deciding to produce ten more vials, diluting the newly made hair restorer into twelve vials.

A sixth of the standard dose would likely suffice without waste.

As for pricing, he could reduce it to two runes per vial, offering just one or two vials for those with slight balding and a few more for severe cases.

...

The next morning at breakfast, Forseti suddenly declared, "Uncle, I've decided to become a military physician."

"What did you just say?" Uncle Peter frowned.

Forseti elaborated, "I want to serve as a military physician and accompany Asgard's troops to explore other parts of the universe."

The requirements for Asgard's military physicians were lenient—being at least 25 years old with sound limbs, akin to the Boy Scouts' threshold.

Apprenticing at a herbal shop in Asgard offered no prospects for fighting evil or financial advancement.

Before Uncle Peter could respond, El interjected, "Why are you thinking like this? You're not even thirty yet."

"For a military physician, I just need to be at least twenty-five," Forseti countered.

"And you're not yet twenty-five."

"I'm only three months away," Forseti pointed out.

"Rowe, you don't understand what's out there," El cautioned, placing a hand on Forseti's shoulder. "Listen to me—don't go... at least not until you're older."

Forseti could sense El's excessive concern, as she still viewed him as a fifteen-year-old boy.

Then Uncle Peter remarked, "Your father was ten times stronger than you are. If you're determined to repeat his mistakes, then go ahead."

"I'm not seeking combat, at least not now," Forseti explained. "A healer isn't required on the battlefield, and there's no inherent danger. I just want to explore and see what's out there."

"Temporarily?"

Uncle Peter scoffed, his tone laced with frustration and sarcasm. "My dear nephew, you're quite optimistic about your future."