When the Saint comes, she does not collect food

#114 - First time alchemy, guess who didn’t get invited?

“Praise the Holy Gun and the Holy Spirit!”

“Bang!”

The branches shook, and the tree branch, as thick as an arm, was directly broken by Jeshka's shot and fell into the water.

Reluctant to drink his allocated calming potion, Jeshka staggered to Hakuto and asked, "How is it?"

Frowning, Hakuto stared at the clockwork gun in his hand, his gaze shifting back and forth between the gun and the distant tree branch without saying a word.

In the midday sun, the break in the branch was clearly visible.

At a distance of about 15 French fathoms (30 meters), even a crossbow could only pierce through, not break it.

Hakuto suspected it was some kind of small crossbow, but Jeshka wound it so easily that it didn't seem like a crossbow.

“How did you do it? What kind of devilish thing is this?”

Jeshka didn't hesitate and handed the clockwork gun directly to Hakuto: “See for yourself.”

Looking down at the clockwork gun in his hand, Hakuto looked up at Jeshka in a daze.

He was a little touched, unexpectedly Jeshka trusted him so much, easily handing him such a dangerous and valuable weapon.

What a good brother.

“Hands up!” Hakuto pointed the gun at Jeshka, “Untie my ropes.”

As if he didn't hear, Jeshka leaned his elbow on the edge of the carriage, looking like he was watching a show.

“I'll count to three, one, two…” While saying that, Hakuto pretended to wind the key, but Jeshka still didn't move.

“Aren't you afraid?”

Jeshka curled his lips and snorted, “You can try winding it.”

Hakuto moved the gun away, pointed it at the distant bushes, and reached out to wind the clockwork key.

“Um, um, huh, huh, ahhhhh!”

Hakuto's square face turned red, veins popped out on his fingers, and both sides of his cheeks bulged because of clenching his teeth.

The gears in the clockwork box only made a soft click, and Hakuto couldn't wind it no matter what.

“How could this be? How could this be?” Hakuto looked at his thick fingers, unable to believe it.

He still didn't believe it, this time, he learned from Jeshka and said while winding: “Praise the Holy Gun and the Holy Spirit!”

“Click, click.”

The gears only made two sounds, and Hakuto couldn't wind it anymore.

At this moment, Hakuto felt utterly defeated, the whole world had lost its meaning, he had actually lost to Jeshka, that bastard.

He could lose to anyone, but he couldn't lose to Jeshka, he was afraid that Jeshka was suffering, and he was also afraid that Jeshka could play with the Holy Gun while he couldn't.

“Out of tricks, are you?”

Jeshka raised a finger triumphantly: “First of all, it's not loaded, even if you can turn the key, you can only fire a fart.”

Jeshka raised a second finger: “Secondly, you don't have Holy Power, the Holy Spirit in the gun won't listen to your orders and generate Holy Wind.”

“Impossible, absolutely impossible.” Hakuto shouted in disbelief, “I'm much more devout than you, you cheapskate who doesn't pay prostitutes.”

“I told you, that time it was a honey trap, and I wanted you to keep it a secret!” His face instantly darkened, Jeshka leaned forward, covered his mouth, and said through gritted teeth.

Snatching back his precious clockwork gun from Hakuto's hand, Jeshka carefully wiped it with his sleeve, “With this thing, I can break through the armor of the knight lords from a distance.

I've already thought it through, next time we encounter a cavalry charge, the first row will be spearmen, and the second row will be gunners.

The gunners will place the clockwork guns on the shoulders of the spearmen, fire once, then the third row will come up to fire, then replace the spears, and launch a charge together.”

“Humph.” Hakuto had been fighting for so many years and had a very thorough understanding of weapons, he immediately retorted, “Such a powerful weapon must have limitations, not many people are recognized by the Holy Gun, right?”

“Not many, seven or eight hundred, I guess.” Jeshka suddenly bent down and brought his face forward, “Guess who didn't get the Holy Gun's approval, oh, it's you, you!”

Carrying the clockwork gun on his back, Jeshka pointed his index fingers at Hakuto and slowly retreated, laughing as he turned and left, leaving only Hakuto trembling with anger.

Jeshka's laughter faintly came from outside the tent, causing Horn to pause.

“No, don't, don't stop.” Sisi's hair was stuck to the corner of her mouth with sweat, she said to Horn. “You are the Archmage, if you stop, it's all over.”

Horn quickly gathered his mind and continued to meditate in his mind, imagining a hermit carrying a lamp and holding a cane, uttering viscous, meaningless tones.

According to Sisi, spells are just an aid for novices, what you say doesn't matter, even if Horn recites a passage from Dante's *Divine Comedy*, the hymn *Te Deum* would do.

The important thing is to use the tones to create a mysterious atmosphere, hinting at his own mind—

I'm gonna mess with some devilish stuff, be prepared.

Horn was an old hand at creating a mysterious atmosphere with spells, he often used it when he was a shaman.

In the faint smoke of burning sage, Horn threw the Frost Moon Grass in his hand into the heated pottery pot in front of him.

The so-called Frost Moon Grass, he thought it was something magical, but it turned out to be just moon grass that had been frosted.

Moon grass is a common raw material for dyes, and it's everywhere in Thousand River Valley.

As Frost Moon Grass, apple peels, and other materials were put into the pottery pot one by one, finally, the powder made by grinding slime cores and organs was sprinkled into the pottery pot.

In just that one moment, Horn suddenly felt a tightening of his scalp, it should be mana being injected.

As for Sisi, she immediately covered the pottery pot with a lid, although it was a small fire, the pottery pot seemed to be boiling, and a large amount of potion flowed out from around the lid.

After a while, Sisi uncovered the lid, and an unspeakable fragrance flowed out.

“Do you feel it?” Sisi snapped her fingers and said, “Alchemists don't actively initiate spells, but when catalysts come into contact with materials, they act as a medium, absorbing the surrounding mana.”

“What if there is no mana around?”

“Then nothing will happen.” Sisi stretched and stood up, “The mana concentration around has to reach a certain level, your meditation is to increase the mana concentration around.”

“Is that how pharmacists make potions too?” Jeanne waved her hand to disperse the smoke, and immediately felt a sense of clarity and increased energy.

Horn shook his head: “They don't need mana, but most useful potions require holy water and holy oil.”

“I see.”

“Alright.” Sisi directed a few child soldiers to pour out the juice from the pottery pot and fill it with slime water sacs, “Today's calming potion is ready, a total of six bags, plus yesterday's, just enough for two bags per gunman.”

After saying goodbye to Sisi, Horn got on his horse and continued to practice riding while traveling.

Since taking this small road recommended by Carrie, the journey has been relatively peaceful.

Except for seeing sticky slime crawling all over the ground every morning when he woke up, he basically hadn't encountered any other difficulties.

Occasionally, when they were attacked by magical beasts, Jeanne would take action, and when Jeanne wasn't around, the gunmen could hold their own.

Since the clockwork guns were shotguns firing buckshot, the magical beast meat that the gunmen produced always had iron and stone fragments in it.

As for Jeanne, after Horn tutored her on a large amount of knowledge about current, voltage, resistance, and a series of test questions, her control over lightning had reached a new level.

The day before yesterday, a magical porcupine tried to attack them, but Jeanne electrocuted it until it was numb but not greasy, without any scorch marks, and it was half-cooked meat when they got it.

Horn personally cooked and guided Madelan to make a pot of pig-killing soup, although it had a fishy smell, it was still unanimously praised by the villagers.

Horn guided the pig-killing soup, and Horn made the calming potion.

Horn's status was once again elevated in the hearts of the villagers, this was the true grandson of the Holy Father personally cheating for them.

Everyone knew that only those who had been sick could use the Holy Power and Holy Gun, wasn't this the Holy Father intervening to favor them?

Getting sick was a sign that the body couldn't withstand the divine power.

When Lord Horn ascends the throne in Joan of Arc Castle, what will be the status of these disciples?

Tsk tsk tsk, it's unimaginable.

Good days are ahead.

Compared to the villagers' confidence in the road ahead, Horn was a little worried.

As the Wild Spider Forest was near, the legendary long-haired monsters of the Homer mercenary group had not appeared, but ordinary magical beasts were becoming more and more numerous.

According to the Homer mercenary group's notes, the closer they got to the Wild Spider Forest, the fewer magical beasts there should be.

But they were taking a small road, and it was normal for the situation to be different from the main road.

But now that they were about to enter the Wild Spider Forest, since they hadn't taken the main road, they didn't have a map of safe routes through the Wild Spider Forest.

Which way should they go?

With such questions, Horn arrived at the planned campsite on the evening of October 22nd.

“Where is this place ahead?” Standing on the carriage, Horn turned to ask the child soldiers.

“Your Grace, the place ahead is the Wild Spider Forest.”