Lorne pushed open the doors of the Harvest Church and walked inside.
Compared to the outside, the interior of the church was much dimmer. Rows of neatly arranged seats stretched deep into the hall. There seemed to be few believers in the church, making it exceptionally quiet.
He didn't see the black-haired youth with the strange behavior from before.
At the very top of the church hall hung a giant Sacred Emblem of Life, and candles on candelabras on both sides emitted a soft glow.
In the front row of seats sat an exceptionally tall man in his forties or fifties, wearing brown priest robes.
He was like a small mountain, seemingly not belonging to this era.
My god—Lorne couldn't help but sigh inwardly. He glanced at the man, trying to estimate his height.
He's at least two meters tall—no, he's sitting; if he stood up, wouldn't he be at least 2.2 meters? Even if he's a Forsake person, he wouldn't grow this tall!
People of this era are generally malnourished; this was the tallest person he had seen since transmigrating. No, even before transmigrating, he had rarely seen anyone taller than the man before him.
Just then, the man seemed to notice his arrival and slowly turned his head. It was a weathered face with rough lines, yet the eyes were unexpectedly gentle.
"Welcome. The Mother's church refuses no one."
When he saw Lorne's appearance clearly, a look of surprise appeared on his face: "Mr. James Scott?"
"You know me?" Lorne asked, puzzled.
"You've been in the papers frequently lately," the bishop replied. "A hero who saved an innocent young girl alone."
It seems my fame is even greater than I imagined—Lorne thought to himself, then bowed slightly. "How should I address you?"
The bishop replied in a gentle tone, "You may call me Father Utravsky."
"Father—" Lorne glanced at him with slight surprise.
"Father, you're a Forsake person, right? Why are you here?" he asked curiously.
Hearing this, Bishop Utravsky looked up at the giant Sacred Emblem of Life and said with deep emotion, "I was born in Indo on the coast of the Midseah. I was once a man fanatical about combat and slaughter."
"I committed serious crimes and fled to the Sonia Sea, becoming a ferocious pirate."
"Before I truly fell into a mental hell, I was fortunate enough to meet the Mother's missionary—"
A very positive, but also quite cliché redemption story. Lorne nodded in agreement, pretending to listen intently while complaining internally.
But—why is it another pirate! Aren't there a bit too many pirates around me? Edwina, Danitz, Cattelya—and now a former pirate priest?
Based on the man's words and the feeling he gave off, Lorne judged that he was most likely not an Apothecary or a Doctor.
"So, Mr. Scott, what do you seek at the Mother's church?" Bishop Utravsky looked down and inquired.
"Phew—" Lorne exhaled, looked up, and answered frankly, "I'm here to seek help."
"Help?"
"Yes—" Lorne nodded and informed him about the widespread flu infection among the workers in his factory and the need for medicine. At the same time, he subtly hinted that he knew about the existence of the Beyonder world and hoped the man could provide some "special" assistance.
As a hero who had stormed a gang's villa alone, it wasn't strange for James Scott to be a Beyonder.
"I understand." Bishop Utravsky cast an approving gaze.
Perhaps because of the "hero" status bonus, or perhaps because the bishop himself was truly kind-hearted, he showed Lorne unexpected sincerity.
"I can provide some help with this matter. As a believer of the Mother, I do know some methods of medicinal treatment that should be of help to you."
"Thank you!" Lorne immediately nodded in thanks.
"However—" Bishop Utravsky's tone shifted with a hint of regret, "I am not a true Doctor after all, so I probably won't be able to produce the kind of miracle medicine that can make people recover quickly."
Lorne nodded, expressing his understanding, but still couldn't help muttering softly, "If only there were an Apothecary who didn't charge much."
"There is," Bishop Utravsky said in a gentle tone, having heard Lorne's whisper.
Is his hearing that good? But—is there really a very cheap Apothecary?
Amidst Lorne's gaze, which was a mix of confusion and expectation, some movement came from the side room of the church.
Lorne saw the strange black-haired youth from before walk out of the side door. The man had a cold aura and a sickly pale complexion. He was currently wearing the priest robes of the Church of the Earth Mother Goddess, but his eyes flickered with unconcealed impatience.
So this guy is a priest here—compared to this Father, the contrast is just too great. Standing next to a Father over two meters tall, this guy looks like a—
"Who is this?" Lorne asked.
"His name is Emelyn White, and he's a priest here," Bishop Utravsky introduced.
"I'm not some priest—" Emlyn muttered softly, then looked up, sizing Lorne up with eyes that were somewhat lazy and fastidious.
"This is Mr. James Scott, the hero of the east district."
"You're James Scott? The one from the newspapers?" Emlyn was also a bit surprised, but it was quickly replaced by a scrutinizing gaze. "You don't look like much."
You really know how to talk—Lorne's smile stiffened for a second, but he still politely greeted the man.
"Father, is this Mr. White the Apothecary you mentioned?"
"Correct, he's an adult Vampire," Bishop Utravsky introduced with startling words.
"Vampire?" The word stunned Lorne. Although he had seen that Emlyn was unusual, he hadn't expected him to be a Vampire.
And what did this have to do with curing illnesses? A creature like a Vampire is already doing well if it doesn't harm people; how could it save them?
"Not a Vampire! Sanguine! Noble Sanguine!" Emlyn immediately retorted excitedly.
He glanced at Lorne and roughly guessed his thoughts, so he tilted his head high and said in a tone filled with a sense of superiority, "I know what you're thinking. Don't compare us Sanguine to those mindless Monsters in pulp novels! We are ancient and noble beings who stand above humans!"
The more you say that, the lamer I think you are—Lorne thought to himself.
Utravsky continued the introduction, "Every adult Vampire—"
"Sanguine!" Emlyn corrected again.
"Phew—every adult Sanguine is a qualified Doctor. This is related to their innate Pathway and is their racial talent."
He then briefly introduced some basic information about the Sanguine.
So they aren't the kind of Monsters from folklore that live in coffins and need garlic and wooden stakes to be killed—Lorne felt a strange sense of disappointment. To be honest, he thought it would be quite interesting if he could see a Vampire in that classic image.
Meanwhile, Emlyn also learned of Lorne's request.
"Impossible!" He immediately crossed his arms, his words sharp. "Even for the same disease, the reaction can be completely different in different people, so the chosen therapy naturally differs as well!"
"I can only perform treatment in person."
He paused and added with the Pride of a professional, "Furthermore, it's impossible for any medicine with Beyonder effects to be mass-produced at a low cost!"
"Is it impossible," Lorne ignored his excited manner and asked out of the blue, "or is it that you—can't do it?"
"You!" Emlyn's voice rose as if he had been insulted. "Are you questioning a noble Sanguine?! If I can't do it, other Apothecaries can't do it either!"
Lorne didn't continue to argue with him. He turned to look at Bishop Utravsky, and seeing that the man seemed to agree with Emlyn's words, he felt a bit disappointed.
A moment later, he looked at the Father and asked, "Father, do you know where I can find the Apothecary potion formula?"
If hiring an Apothecary is expensive, it would be better to find a way to train one himself. Perhaps he could even open an infirmary in the factory.
Hearing this, Bishop Utravsky looked deeply at Lorne and said slowly, "As a hero, your strength should be quite good, right? I happen to have a commission here—"