The Miracle of Prayer The sky was gradually showing the color of a fish's belly.

And in that spiritually sealed room, an infinite darkness pervaded.

It was like it had turned into a putrid swamp, and the air was flooded with bubble after bubble.

The head of the snake-haired banshee that was placed on the table had been shaved into a half-bald head, staring with dead eyes, and its originally horrifying appearance had become somewhat comical.

Eleazar took hold of the hair that kept struggling and writhing like a living thing and quickly dropped it in when the Shadowstone had melted completely.

"Hiss!!!"

It was like an uncountable number of snakes hissing, and the howl that erupted made the room rustle and shake and drop some dust.

The boiling crucible instantly calmed all dissension as the hair twisting like a snake slowly melted and fused with the various materials.

Earth Pathway Magic Potion - Corruption, configuration complete!

Taking the crucible out of the furnace and setting it aside to wait for it to cool, Eleazar also grabs a moment to meditate and recover.

It was said that in that kind of transcendental organization, magic potions were configured by special people, and the promoters drank them at full strength.

Witcher, who had no one to serve him, could only hold up the pot of magic potion that seemed like swamp water and finish swallowing it in one big gulp, in a state of eighty percent exhaustion.

Strongly bracing his boiling body, he cleared the tabletop for a moment, and then, unable to endure the excruciating pain any longer, slowly fell to his knees, holding onto the corner of the table.

...

Witcher, who entered the fusion period, was not heard from for several days.

Fintan had come to the house looking for him, but after calling downstairs and realizing that no one was responding, he had to leave in a depressed state.

Fina had also come quietly, sniffing the still lingering smell of magic potion in the room, crouching down to wipe the man's sweat from his forehead, reinforcing the sealing boundaries around him, and then leaving again without a word after doing so.

The thief also came in to hide and visit for a while, but he couldn't push the door of that room, and there was nothing of value elsewhere, so he had to go to someone else's house to patronize it, unfortunately, they found out, and he ended up being chased into the orchard by the angry inhabitants and was beaten up so much that he couldn't take care of himself.

The landlord came over and knocked on the door to ask if he had lost anything, but after realizing that no one had responded, he had to stop.

Four days later, Witcher, leaning against the back of the door, slowly opened his dark eyes.

"You guys are so, so loud ..."

Unlike the previous state of being a corpse with no consciousness, this time, he was able to maintain his senses throughout the process of fusing the magic potion and even crawled behind the door and held it up when he realized a stranger had come in.

"It's not safe outside the suburbs, there are thieves."

Eleazar stood up slowly, holding his head, and quickly cleaned up the room.

You'll have to get a little defense yourself to avoid this unpleasantness the next time you're out and about.

Contemplatively, after getting his hygiene in order, he returned to the second floor with another piece of bread in his mouth.

It must have been upsetting to have things stolen, and the material would have killed them if it had been rummaged through.

Rummaging through the material chest, Eleazar pulls out a bottle of lesser-used herbal powder.

A simple herbal incense manufacture is completed, and when you go out, you only need to light it and place it in a room with closed doors and windows to create a natural field of poisonous gas.

Just like those relics that have been closed for who knows how many years, specializing in those with unclean hands.

"Oh yeah, and this..."

Eleazar fiddles with the snake-haired banshee's head a bit more.

Aim its eyes at the window and give those who climb the walls pry open the windows and lift the curtains a memory to last a lifetime.

After removing the security risks from his lair, he then grabbed his gear and headed out the door.

...

In an open-air restaurant in the city, Eleazar eats his food and writes something in his notebook.

The Bull of Skyfall: a spiky beast (scratch that).

Shrieking Cave: snake-haired banshee (scratch that).

Evil Dead: This one has been cut off by the Church.

Towers appearing out of thin air: this one is also officially blocked.

Miracles of Prayer: this one has the potential to be demonic!

Cybil's Wish: This one may be the cursed one...

King's Gambit: most likely another game of Demon Sequencer.

Arrow of Eros: This one could be a chimera...

...

There are three more transcendental events in the book to go investigate.

The Miracle of Prayer, The Wish of Cygnus, The Arrow of Eros...

At the surprised looks of those next to him who were looking at the starving man, he quickly finished his lunch and grabbed a napkin to wipe his mouth.

"Almost done, just wait a little longer, just give me a while!"

Eleazar, who quickly got up to check out and pay to leave, silently sensed the fateful connection, if any.

...

The next day he went to the town where the miracle was said to have taken place.

That place is like a sanctuary, the road is clean and tidy, every house hangs a black cross flag on a white background by the door, and the square in the center of the town stands a pure statue of the Virgin Mary, the symbol of peace and happiness of the flock of doves bouncing in the square, where people throw food to where to come together, not at all afraid to be born, and even you can pick up and gently caress.

The townspeople are courteous and hospitable, and if you're willing to go with them to participate in the services at that stately, sacred cathedral, you'll be cherished as family.

Eleazar, hidden amongst the dozen or so tourists, quietly followed the group to the church called Our Lady of Gloria.

This place is full of miracles, and, amazingly, it hasn't been wiped out by the Church until now ...

Without a word, Eleazar followed the crowd into the towering, pure white building.

Vertical cathedral solemn and sacred, high to the ceiling of the flower window glass in the transparent sunshine brilliantly bright, to the bottom of the sanctuary full of pious worshippers look forward to, casting colorful light and shadow and colorful blessings.

Amidst the solemn stares all around him, Eleazar bowed his head in conformity and offered his false devotion to the statue, which he didn't know if it was a god or a demon.

And it was then that he finally realized that among the townspeople, two hidden acolytes were watching coldly from the sidelines as if they were waiting for something to happen to their group of tourists.

Eleazar subconsciously then pressed the silver ring on his finger, which was a little more reassuring.

Well, even if those two couldn't hold back from sending out the holy light later, he could continue to hide.

"Ah! My leg is healed!"

But right at this moment, a visitor sitting in a wheelchair suddenly stood up slowly with an expression full of disbelief.

"The doctor clearly said that it would take at least half a year for me to finish healing and that there would be after-effects, but I feel like nothing is wrong with me now!"

The woman who stood up embraced her husband beside her.

And there was loud applause and celebration all around.

"Che, so fake!"

A few of those unknown tourists were dismissive of the scene.

"This is a specially arranged cast, isn't it?"

"Gad, listen, whatever these people want us to buy or donate later, we don't want to agree to anything that comes out of our pockets anyway!"