Nidalee blinked, not really following his train of thought. Knowing that this druidic girl didn't get the subtleties of religious conversion, Charles patiently explained, "The reason I built all these buildings openly in front of everyone was to pass it off as a 'miracle'—to show off the power of the Goddess of Life."
"With that sense of awe in their hearts, we can strike while the iron's hot over the next few days—convincing them to believe in the Goddess of Life, and even receive baptism, join the monastery, become nuns."
He needed more people—devout nuns to join the monastery and staff all the new buildings.
He also needed brave and capable nuns to class change into different pastor specializations and fight for him.
There was no way the slums of South Harbor District alone could fill his ranks—real life was nothing like a game, where new NPCs spawned nonstop. South Harbor only had so many people, and the population kept draining out. It could never supply the numbers he needed.
That's why he needed these satyrs, these mountain people, to power up his forces.
If things went as planned, once this camp was up and running, his monastery would finally have triple-digit membership...
Nidalee nodded, only half following. "Oh... So that's it, I get it."
A weight lifted from her heart; she beamed and shot Charles a mischievous look. "So you just want to see all these satyr girls naked, huh? Geez, you're greedy~"
After all, to gain a Pastor's power—to become a battle-ready nun—meant stripping down in front of Charles and getting baptized!
That meant every detail, every inch of skin, would end up exposed to his eyes.
Charles immediately looked awkward, a little flustered and embarrassed. "Don't talk nonsense! You Little girl, getting itchy for another spanking?"
Nidalee laughed, doubling over. "Master, my mistake, please punish me~"
...
After dragging Nidalee into his tent and giving her a very thorough 'punishment,' Charles finally felt a little better, falling asleep with her in his arms.
The next morning, the nuns woke at dawn—washed up, ate, then got to work. Those with spells pitched in with magic, the rest lent their muscle, joining Charles's followers to help build this brand-new camp.
Of course, their main job was still to reach out to the satyrs, preaching the greatness of the Goddess of Life and trying to inspire faith in this selfless goddess.
At first, the missionary work didn't have much effect. Mountain people didn't have a tradition of following any specific deity. But Charles was optimistic—he believed that, in time, the satyrs would become first-rate recruits.
Throughout all this, Nidalee focused entirely on her spellcasting—earth walls, fences, barricades, whatever the camp needed.
Officially, she was a nun, but she knew nothing about preaching, so she sensibly kept her mouth shut and didn't get in the way.
She wasn't interested in proselytizing—but that didn't mean others weren't interested in her.
Around midday, Nidalee downed a Potion of Mental Clarity and a Goodberry, then retreated to her tent for some rest and mana recovery.
But she hadn't been resting long when a familiar female voice called from outside: "Miss Nidalee, do you have a moment?"
Willo!
Knowing Willo was one of Theresa's main targets for recruitment, Nidalee jumped up, pulled open her tent flap, and said, "I do—come on in."
Standing at the entrance, the satyr matriarch gave an apologetic smile and stepped inside. Nidalee let the flap fall, linked arms with her, and sat down. "What can I do for you?"
"Well..." Willo toyed with her hair, clearly a bit shy. "I wanted to ask how you manage to put so much vitality into your Goodberries?"
"I can feel it—just one of your Goodberries rivals an entire Cure Wounds spell. It's incredible, so I just had to ask."
She was completely sincere, her eyes full of hope.
Nidalee's first thought was, Easy! Just go talk to Priest Charles and let him see you naked!
But recalling Charles's instructions from last night, she kept it subtle, and replied slowly, "It's all a blessing from the Goddess of Life."
Willo's eyes went wide. "Really?"
"Yes." Nidalee's face was solemn—she looked more like a preacher than a druid or hunter. "After I was inspired by Priest Charles and took refuge in the Goddess of Life, I received baptism, and along with it, the goddess's power."
"According to Priest Charles, I multiclassed as a Life Domain Pastor. That's how I got these abilities."
She looked at Willo earnestly, fighting the urge to laugh: "Matriarch Willo, if you want this power, just go see Priest Charles. He'll give you exactly what you want."
Willo's jaw dropped, floored by the idea. "So it's faith in the Goddess of Life? I thought you'd just taken your druid magic to the next level…"
Nidalee was super nervous inside, but kept her tone calm. "Matriarch, there are limits to druidic power. During my brief spell as a druid, I found that the more you use nature magic, the more you realize just how limited druid mana is for emergencies or big changes—unless you become something more than just a druid."
"That's why I switched to hunter, and then to Life Domain Pastor!"
She finished, secretly full of admiration. By channeling Life Domain divine magic, she could pump pure vitality into every Goodberry—turning each one into the equivalent of seven or eight Cure Wounds! Genius! Only her Master could come up with something like that.
Willo's heart burned with excitement, but her rational side held her back from an instant decision.
She'd never seriously encountered religious faith before. "I'll have to think on it... Wow, I can't believe this is for real…"
Nidalee gave her a gentle smile. "I hope you make the right choice, Matriarch."
She had no idea if her sales pitch landed, and her heart was pounding. But she also couldn't help wondering—if she really got Willo to join the monastery, what reward would Charles give her?
In any case, when Willo did get baptized, you bet Nidalee would be there in person!
She was already daydreaming: the bashful Willo undressing under Charles's gaze, baring herself down to her last inch of skin… What a scene that would be...
...
Blackstaff Tower.
"...Yes, I can repeat myself: Priest Charles's spells are the main reason Montport was destroyed. The rest of us just offered assists and bought him time for the finishing blow."
At the conference room atop the tower, Anno sat at the far end of the table. She looked up, her deep blue eyes settling on the head of the table—a white-haired, brown-skinned tiefling woman, with beautiful amber horns and a massive jet-black staff.
That was Blackstaff herself—the staff's current owner, Blackstaff Tower's leader, the Guardian of Liberl Port, the archmage who once banished the Great Old Ones: Lady Vajra.
Right now, though, the legendary archmage just looked exhausted. Even though Anno was reporting on the all-important Abyssal Lord, Vajra barely seemed interested.
It was the mages flanking her, though, who kept firing off questions nonstop—doubting whether Charles really deserved primary credit, refusing to let it go. The constant needling was frankly driving Anno up the wall.
What, jealous much? Sorry, but my boyfriend really is that amazing!
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