After joining the monastery, girls from the slums could immediately class change into nuns without consuming any resources.
To class change into a basic, domainless Pastor, gaining the ability to cast cantrips and 1st-level spells, required only a single Spell Slot.
But now, to gain a domain and the ability to channel Divine Power—in the Pastor class system, these were all considered second-level Pastor—yet this required only ten Purification Points.
Charles recalled how much it had cost him to reach second level in the past.
Nine hundred points!
That would be enough for ninety classless nuns to class change into second-level specialized Pastors!
Just thinking about this left him feeling deeply unbalanced.
Damn it, why do these girls need so few Purification Points to level up, but I have to spend so many?
Is it because they're natives, and I'm a transmigrator?
Or perhaps…
Whenever I level up, is the power the system grants me really far greater than it appears on the surface?
Countless unsupported speculations flooded his mind. At that moment, a mosquito landed by his ear, and Andny's voice sounded: "Master, the blue dragonborn who came to see you the other day has returned."
Interrupted, Charles immediately snapped out of his thoughts and replied without delay, "Got it, I'll head to the doorway right away!"
He walked out of the Hall of Thunder and hurried straight to the main entrance.
Of course, he could guess what the secretary was here for—bringing him supplies!
After all, those emitters weren't Rahman's personal devices, so he couldn't hand them over the same day. They had agreed that once the blue dragon got the weapons ready, he would have them delivered to Charles.
Initially, Charles thought he'd have to make another trip to the central district himself. When the blue dragon said he'd send someone over, Charles felt treated with an honor unbefitting a mere Party B.
He didn't refuse, of course—he had plenty on his to-do list, unlike the blue dragons with their endless leisure.
He pushed open the monastery's gates just as the blue dragon's carriage pulled up at the entrance. A familiar, upright figure lifted the curtain and stepped out.
Spotting Charles at the gate, the blue dragonborn smiled faintly. "It seems your control of the South Harbor District is even more thorough than I imagined. Nothing escapes your perception here."
Charles gave a light smile. "For safety—and so I don't neglect honored guests."
He offered politely, "Do you have a moment, sir? We could go next door and sit for a drink."
"No need," the blue dragonborn declined. "I have things to attend to. Once you've checked the goods, I must return."
He reached into his pocket and drew forth a neatly folded square of white cloth, about the size of a pillow.
"I've brought you the weapons the prince promised. Twenty Ion Beam Emitters, and all their matched dragon scale batteries—they're all here."
"Oh, and there's also a token of the prince's goodwill, including the extradimensional bag itself. May these make your work a little easier."
Charles looked at the cloth in his hands. He knew immediately: it was a dimensional hole—a bag of holding upgraded a hundredfold in capacity.
Just this single extradimensional bag would fetch a market price of five thousand gold. But the lavish blue dragon intended to give him the bag and all its contents as one bundle.
"Thank you." He accepted the bag with both hands, then promptly unfolded it in full view of the blue dragonborn. The center of the white cloth revealed a vast circular void, leading into a large inner space.
The first thing that caught his eye was the +3 battlemage's wand Rahman had promised from the beginning.
It was about forty centimeters long, jet-black, with a blue circular gem set at the top.
Fine, arcane patterns were engraved on the gem, displaying both the intricacy of its magical craftsmanship and its phenomenal cost of manufacture.
But it was more than worth it—the boost this item would give his spell power was nothing short of extraordinary!
Charles reached in, grasped the wand, and channeled his own magic power into it, instantly forming a perfect attunement.
He then withdrew it from the bag and held it in the sunlight, perceiving the enhancement it brought to his magical powers—utterly satisfied, he nodded.
Truly, one of the most iconic products of the ancient elf empire!
He mused to himself: the "+N" series of magical items were at one time the most popular exports of the ancient elf empire, before it collapsed a thousand years ago.
Their range was enormous—weapon, shields, armor, staves, holy symbols, even instruments; all could be found within this series.
And their potency ranged from +1 to +3 grades.
Naturally, the price increased with each grade. +1 items could be had for just over four hundred gold. +2 for nearly three thousand. But +3? Unless you had at least twenty thousand gold in cash, don't even think about it.
Rumor has it that the ancient elf empire even researched +4 and +5 magical items, whose power would be overwhelming.
But the craftsmanship was too demanding; costs skyrocketed, and the price-performance ratio was so poor that no one would buy them—so they never went past the prototype.
Since then, after the elves were scattered across the world, each major nation has mastered these techniques and developed new magical items even better suited to certain classes.
But to this day, no +4 or +5 magical items have ever reached the public. Charles figured those rumors must be true.
As for this entire product line, its effects were pure and straightforward. Not like the Storm Warhammer, which carried multiple special effects per item; nor like his Illusionist's Bracers, full of quirky unique mechanisms.
The effects of these were simple and brutal: weapons deal more damage; armor and shields give greater protection; staves increase spell power and nothing else!
In other words, these items are veritable "stat monsters"—if you are an Adventurer still needing magical item upgrades, you can never go wrong buying one!
Clutching the wand, Charles was filled with confidence. Now, even if Montport appeared right in front of him, he'd make that Abyssal Lord pay!
He checked the rest of the contents—twenty Ion Beam Emitters, one hundred batteries, and "Rahman's token of goodwill": a thousand dragon crowns, each engraved with a blue dragon's head.
Of course, these were gold coins minted by the blue dragons themselves—larger, thicker, and of higher gold purity than the staters of the Goddess of Wealth. Their exchange rate had hovered at about ten-to-one for years.
So this bag contained a "token" equating to roughly ten thousand gold.
After confirming the inventory, Charles nodded to the blue dragonborn. "One +3 battlemage's wand, twenty Ion Beam Emitters, one hundred batteries, one thousand dragon crowns—all present and accounted for."
The blue dragonborn nodded in approval. "Very well. Now it's time for you to unleash your strength. Mr. Charles, I wish you the best of luck."
As usual Charles extended a polite invitation for lunch, but the blue dragonborn again declined and immediately boarded his carriage. With thundering hooves and clattering wheels, the carriage sped off in a cloud of dust.
Once the visitor departed, Charles turned back, reentered the monastery, closed the gates, made his way through the garden and into the Training Grounds.
Here, girls clad in heavy armor—shields in one hand, longswords, warhammers, or maces in the other—were training, their resounding shouts thunderous enough to shake the walls.
Ever since these girls had class changed into Pastors, this had become their dedicated facility for rapidly increasing their weapon proficiency. Even Charles himself barely had a place to train anymore.
He began to consider: maybe he would need a third-level Training Grounds in the future. With more and more nuns, this would be necessary.
Well, that was a matter for another day. For now, the training time left for them was short.
With that in mind, Charles looked over the training girls, mentally tallying their numbers like an old farmer checking his harvest.
All the girls had white hair—eight with gray-white, six with pure milky white, subtle nuances that spoke to the differences in their domains.
After becoming Storm Domain Pastors, nuns' hair would always turn gray-white, regardless of its original color. Life Domain, in turn, yielded milky white.
Nidalee was an exception. After her baptism as a Life Domain Pastor, her hair color remained unchanged.
Charles surmised that this was because she was originally a druid, so this was a "part time class" and didn't result in the transformation.
But anyway, now—including the one who had just undergone baptism and not yet finished changing—he had nine Storm Domain Pastors and six Life Domain Pastors, for a total of fifteen fully fledged second-level class holders.
That was a formidable combat force by any metric. After all, the South Harbor District branch of Xanathar's Guild had fewer than ten class warriors, most only first level, with the rest being classless grunts.
Even the famed fighters of the Amazons were generally only Level 1 Warriors.
As for Level 2? That would already rank as a true elite veteran.
Still, Charles wasn't entirely satisfied. In his past games, he'd usually stockpiled well over a hundred second-level Pastors at this point, able to arm-wrestle even the Amazons.
But he knew that was wishful thinking. The total number of nuns was already over thirty, but not everyone had what it took to stand on the battlefield.
He had already lowered the bar to the bare minimum just to gather these fifteen class holders.
Well. Step by step. Once this demon crisis passes, he hoped the big companies wouldn't show their tusks too soon, giving him time to develop...
He prayed silently, then clapped his hands and called out in a sonorous voice: "Storm Domain Pastors, halt!"
Eight gray-white-haired girls stopped, turning to look at him in confusion. Charles crouched, spread the extradimensional bag on the ground, and called out: "Come forward and receive your new weapons—one by one!"
--------------------------------------
Enjoying the story? Get early access to 220+ Advanced Chapters!
👉 Support now: patreon.com/TransFic
--------------------------------------