Chapter 113: Preparations Before Battle

In the logistics department, Silas handed over the filled-out form, waiting to receive thunder talismans and other equipment.

The nun behind the counter took the form and looked at it, her expression somewhat surprised.

Silas blinked and asked, "What's wrong, Sister Sheryl?"

This Sister Sheryl was a clergyman who had entered the Church in the same batch as Silas.

Her family was relatively poor, her parents had died early, and she had grown up in the Church's welfare home, thus becoming a devout believer.

Due to her kind and hardworking nature, as well as her firm faith, she had smoothly become a nun of the Church.

The two had met during training in the martial arts field. Although their functions were vastly different, as people from the same batch, they still felt a considerable sense of closeness to each other.

The young Sister Sheryl smiled. "I thought you were going to apply for magic potions."

"?? Why would I apply for magic potions?" Silas looked bewildered.

Sister Sheryl playfully stuck out her tongue. "I heard from other clergymen that you are half a Demon Hunter and can draw power from magic potions. Last time, because the power of the magic potion went berserk, you were saved by Father Hank."

"...Are all the people in this Church so good at making up stories and spreading rumors?" Silas looked speechless.

Sister Sheryl asked tentatively, "Priest Sotos, are you a Demon Hunter?"

Silas's interest was piqued. He leaned his elbow on the counter, his face tensing into an indifferent expression, and mimicking Jeros's hoarse and cold voice, he said, "What? Want to play a game of Gwent with me?"

Sister Sheryl smiled, knowing Silas was joking, yet still said with a confident expression, "My Scoia'tael are invincible!"

With that, a hint of pride on her face, she turned and went inside to get the items.

"..."

Silas, waiting at the counter, was not idle. He was pondering the meaning of Logan's words just now.

"People like Mr. Logan don't speak nonsense. So, what does this sentence mean?" Silas pondered, starting to combine it with the knowledge about magic potions in his mind.

After a moment, Silas suddenly thought, "Could it be that I might really use magic potions in the future?"

Magic potions were an outstanding product, but they contained potent toxins. In the five thousand years since magic potions had become widespread, only Demon Hunters could utilize the effects of magic potions to the fullest.

This was also why Demon Hunters could be one of the most comprehensive and versatile mystical professions, as they could deal with different magical beasts according to different magic potions.

"With the rise of mystical professions, the versatility of magic potions has been significantly improved. At the same time, with continuous improvement, some weakened versions of magic potions can also be used by some other mystical professions, provided that the profession possesses a strong body and powerful control over their body."

"Possessing powerful control over the body allows one to temporarily prevent toxins from invading important organs by controlling the body's organs and muscles. One can even isolate toxins in the stomach and expel them directly with waste, without them seeping into the bloodstream."

This was the knowledge about magic potions that Silas had obtained from books recently.

At the same time, during training, the instructor, an expert-level martial artist, had also demonstrated how to use some low-toxicity magic potions.

Thinking of this, Silas suddenly had an epiphany. "If that's the case, can I analyze my body through divine thought to enhance my control over my body, or by meticulously studying magic potion knowledge, analyze magic potions with divine thought, remove the toxic substances, and turn them into enhancement potions without side effects?"

"If so, wouldn't I be able to lead a revolution in the entire world!?" Instantly, Silas's heart surged with excitement as he imagined further. Unconsciously, he had already imagined himself, with one call, becoming the king of another world, known as the King of Magic Potions, possessing immense wealth, and living a supreme, luxurious, upper-class life.

"Priest Sotos! Priest Sotos!" While Silas was happily daydreaming, the nun's voice reached his ears.

Silas blinked and snapped back to reality, seeing Sister Sheryl looking at him with a worried expression.

"Are you alright?" Sister Sheryl asked, putting down the box in her hand.

"Of course, I'm fine. Was there something wrong with me just now?" Silas asked, taking the box and opening it.

Sister Sheryl said in a low voice, "Your eyes were a bit glazed just now, and the corners of your mouth were crazily turned up. It seemed like you were thinking about something evil."

"Ahem… Young nun, that wasn't anything evil. I just saved three innocent children of the Goddess and was savoring the happiness and joy of saving others," Silas said, counting the items and spouting nonsense.

Sister Sheryl, upon hearing this, looked startled and quickly bowed her head. "My apologies, truly my apologies! Your heroic deeds are already widely spread among us. I actually presumed to pollute your pure thoughts. I am truly sorry."

Silas smiled gently and nodded. "It's alright. Minor distractions are irrelevant; what matters is the sincerity of the heart."

Sister Sheryl nodded vigorously upon hearing this and blessed, "May the Goddess be with you."

"May the Goddess be with you."

…

Returning to his Purple Moon Chapel with the box, he found a letter at the door.

Silas was somewhat surprised. He opened the letter and looked at it. The content was written by the gatekeeper of the Church of Holy Blood. It was very simple: Ada wanted him to come home for dinner tonight.

Silas felt warm upon hearing this. He put away the letter, walked into the chapel, and began his final preparations.

Taking off the formal suit that constricted his body, Silas put on a close-fitting and well-tailored silk shirt, and over it, a fleece garment woven from the wool of a mystical black mountain goat.

He put on tight-fitting trousers convenient for combat and leather boots, tightened his belt, and placed two small pouches on his lower back, containing silver-grey powder, Tiger Blood Potion, and thunder talismans.

He placed the demon-hunting pistol, loaded with silver blood bullets, on his left thigh, and finally put on his blue priest's long robe and hung the shawl.

He moved his body; it was very comfortable and free.

He fixed a small vial of Silver Blood Potion to his wrist guard. When needed, the weapon could instantly cut open the rubber vial to coat the weapon with the potion.

This time, Silas put down his staff and replaced it with a mystical weapon made of a mixture of silver and steel, given by the Church.

After everything was ready, Silas lay down and entered meditation, recovering his spiritual energy while waiting for the night to come.

Time slowly passed. The sun set in the west, and the three moons rose.

Dong! Dong! …

Following six heavy and distant bell tolls, the arrival of night was announced.

In the dim bedroom, Silas opened his eyes, placed the silver-steel short sword behind his waist, and after once again confirming that there were no problems with his equipment, he quietly walked out of the chapel.

Just as he stepped out of the door, Silas heard a crisp bell sound. In the dim light, several fleeting black shadows roamed in the night.

"Let's go!" Logan, leading the way, slightly raised his head, revealing a steady face under the wide brim of his hat.

Silas took a deep breath, nodded vigorously, and walked to Logan's side. "I feel there will be a fierce battle today."

Logan smiled. "Then be prepared for battle. You've prepared everything I asked you to, right?"

"Of course, it's a matter of life and death," Silas patted his pouch.

Marx scanned the surroundings and asked with some regret, "Lupo didn't come along?"

This fellow genuinely liked that Husky.

Silas spread his hands. "I took him home. I'll bring him back after the Azure Moon Festival."