Chapter 49: Blood Therapy

"Father, he's awake," a female voice reached his still-ringing ears.

Silas turned his head slightly and saw an elderly priest, dressed in a pristine white church robe, his face kind, part the bed curtains and walk in.

"You're awake?" The priest smiled, resembling a kind old grandfather.

Silas nodded slightly and opened his mouth slightly, intending to speak, but was stopped by the priest.

"Don't speak yet. Your oral cavity and tongue have been severely corroded by the potion. It's best not to use them casually right now."

Silas could only nod.

The priest sat down and said with an admiring expression, "I've already heard about your deeds. You are truly a remarkable Priest."

"???" Silas's mind was a bit foggy; he didn't know what the priest was talking about.

The priest saw the confusion in Silas's eyes and explained, "Your entire body's functions have been disrupted by the potion. The excessive stimulation from the Shark Potion has caused some memory gaps in your brain. This is only temporary; don't worry."

Silas continued to nod.

"Your family has already been informed of your situation. They were told you need to undergo special training at the Church of Holy Blood for the next few days and will be staying here temporarily," the priest gradually relayed the information concerning Silas.

"What I'm currently infusing you with is a blood vial primarily composed of gecko blood. It can stimulate your body tissues and accelerate division and healing. After this blood vial is finished, I will infuse you with a blood vial primarily composed of tiger blood. It can provide your body with sufficient nutrition and has the effect of strengthening the body."

Silas's brain hadn't fully processed it yet; he could only nod numbly.

Then, accompanied by a sharp pain in his head, Silas's eyelids became too heavy to keep open. He slowly closed them and fell asleep again.

The priest sighed upon seeing this, didn't disturb him, stood up, and said to a nun dressed in a pristine white monastic robe standing nearby, "Take good care of this brave little Priest. This is a joint order from Bishop Ron and Master Jeros."

The nun nodded upon hearing this. "Rest assured, Father Hank."

In the main hall of the medical area in the backyard of the Church of Holy Blood, in a place resembling a church hall, Jeros, dressed in a Demon Hunter's long trench coat, sat on a long bench, his two swords leaning beside him. He looked at an old man in a white, gold-trimmed church robe praying before the statue of the Tri-Moon Goddesses and said, "I believe it's better to continue investigating this matter. The Twin Alliance is, after all, in the Highland region; their reach can't possibly extend this far."

The old man stood up. He had a square, righteous-looking face, a strong physique, and salt-and-pepper hair, resembling an aged old general – appearing old but still vigorous.

This was the highest person in charge of the entire Bayne City, the leader of this great Church of Holy Blood, Bishop Ron Shelley.

Bishop Ron turned to look at Jeros. "My dear Jeros, although you are a top-tier Demon Hunter Master, you do not understand the habits and reach of these cults. I received news about ten days ago that a branch of the Twin Alliance had quietly infiltrated the Empire, seemingly searching for something. We have already conducted a detailed investigation; it is indeed the work of the Twin Alliance."

Jeros frowned slightly. "I always feel there are some strange problems here. What is their purpose in doing this?"

Bishop Ron sat down and patted his old friend's shoulder. "Don't overcomplicate things, my friend. You have handled this matter perfectly. Coupled with the previous Death Cult incident, I have already reported the situation upwards. According to the Central Council's decision, after all reviews are completed, you can become an Archbishop."

At the mention of Archbishop, Jeros took out his pipe. "You should know very well that becoming an Archbishop is not my true purpose. I only want to regain my emotions now."

Ron fell silent upon hearing this.

Losing emotions could indeed make Demon Hunters invincible. But over time, that sense of emptiness, of being unable to connect with or express anything, could easily drive a person mad.

Under normal circumstances, Demon Hunters who had lost fear and other emotions should be the most stable and least likely to lose control.

However, according to the Church's records of insanity in recent years, the probability of Demon Hunters going mad far exceeded that of the Holy Sword Squad, ranking first.

"May the Goddesses bless you and allow you to realize your wish," Ron prayed in a low voice.

Jeros didn't believe in these things. He stood up, casually slung his two swords behind him, and prepared to leave.

At that moment, Father Hank walked over. "Bishop, Master Jeros."

Jeros turned his head and asked, "How is Silas's condition, little Hank?"

Father Hank, who was fifty-four years old this year, showed no dissatisfaction with this address and said respectfully, "He has awakened. However, the after-effects of the Shark Potion still persist. He has memory gaps and will probably need another two days to recover."

Jeros nodded slightly. "He is a hero. Use the most effective blood vial for him. Don't let any long-term effects remain."

Ron then sighed. "It's been a long time since I've seen such a passionate and brave young man. You've found a good seedling."

Jeros glanced at him. "Then incorporate him into the Church as soon as possible and have him undergo systematic training. After the Pale Moon Festival comes the Blood Moon Festival. You know very well what that signifies. We need powerful Priests."

Ron nodded. "Rest assured, I know. However, the necessary procedures still need to be followed. The current time is still too short. Once his probationary period ends, he will immediately be made a clergyman and enter the Divine Punishers for relevant training and study."

Jeros grunted in acknowledgment and then walked out of the hall.

Here, Bishop Ron said to Father Hank, "Go to the storage room and get a drop of griffin blood. Concoct it into a high-grade blood vial and infuse it along with the tiger blood."

Father Hank was stunned upon hearing this. "Bishop! Griffin blood is high-grade blood and a high-grade mystical material. Isn't it too wasteful to infuse it into Silas Sotos?"

Ron smiled and patted Father Hank's shoulder. "Master Jeros is never wrong about people. And I must fulfill Jeros's promise not to let this little fellow suffer any long-term effects."

"Your mercy and generosity make us feel ashamed," Hank said with a sigh of admiration.

At that moment, a nun from outside walked in. "Bishop, Mayor Arnold is here. He needs your help to hold a press conference regarding the West Mountain Docks incident."

Bishop Ron nodded, gave Hank an instruction, and quickly left.

Hank went through a side door into a deep, ancient-looking corridor.

"The Goddesses are indeed fair. You reap what you sow. A drop of griffin blood! A high-grade blood vial concocted from it is blood that countless people dream of. Silas Sotos, I hope your future performance will live up to the expectations and efforts Bishop Ron and Master Jeros have invested in you today."