Chapter 71

But the scene he had imagined, where the young man would immediately agree with great joy upon being invited, did not materialize. Before he could even mention the benefits, the young man had firmly rejected him without hesitation. What had happened? The priest of the Guardian God Church pondered, could it be that the young man, inexperienced and nervous, had blurted out a refusal without thinking?

But looking at his calm demeanor, the priest of the Guardian God Church was puzzled. Despite rejecting him, Jiang Junming still bowed respectfully and prepared to leave. Should he try again? But he had already answered so definitively; would he have to beg him?

Standing among the group of young men, the priest of the Guardian God Church turned red with embarrassment, wanting to say something but not knowing how to.

Tirada suppressed his jealousy and anger, and slightly raised his voice, saying, "The priest of the Guardian God Church tried to persuade him to change his faith, but he didn’t even say a polite word. Such a person shows no respect to the gods, and this is not what justice and light are about."

The surrounding young men all nodded, agreeing with Tirada. The priest of the Guardian God Church, upon hearing Tirada’s words, frowned even more deeply.

"Attention, the first class today is a general course, which all believers of any deity must attend. It will teach you how to make healing potions," the teacher in the green robe said loudly, his voice drowning out the whispers and murmurs of the hundred or so young men in the chaotic square.

The priest of the Guardian God Church looked at Jiang Junming helplessly, seeing his clear, firm, and confident gaze. Realizing that his attempt to persuade him to change his faith was futile, he sighed lightly and turned to leave.

All the way, the priest of the Guardian God could not believe why the young believer of the Goddess of Care refused to change his faith. What future could there be in a small church without even a temple in Dusk City? The young man had a good talent, and now it seemed to be wasted, truly a pity.

Jiang Junming stood in the crowd, his expression unchanged, unaffected by the various envious and jealous gazes of others. He was thinking about what the teacher in the green robe had said. Making potions? Priests, paladins, and warriors all had to learn how to make potions. He wondered what the differences were between the potions made in the church academy and those made by herbalists in the wilderness or by the light brain.

There were also the "impurities" mentioned by the light brain, which could enhance the effects of the potions and give them unexpected properties. The light brain had run out of energy before explaining clearly. This was a good place to try it out. Jiang Junming flexed his wrists and fingers, feeling the subtle changes in the three improved joint groups.

"Junming, you really are..." Little Price stood next to Jiang Junming, looking at him with a strange expression.

"What’s wrong, Price?" Jiang Junming asked.

"Even if you refuse, you should at least say something else. Otherwise, it’s not good," Little Price said. "But your faith in the Goddess of Care is very sincere. You rejected the major churches without hesitation."

"We are all believers of the Light Temple Alliance, there’s nothing to be picky about," Jiang Junming said vaguely. He couldn’t really explain this. Should he tell Little Price that he felt the teachings of the Goddess of Care were similar to the principles of doctors in his world, which was why he believed in her? Or that his faith in the Goddess of Care was just a cover for performing surgery and saving lives? If he said that, he would be considered crazy.

The two spoke in low voices and followed the crowd to a classroom. The classroom was large, with over a hundred desks, each equipped with various beakers, test tubes, measuring tools, and other simple instruments. Even with over a hundred young men entering, the classroom still felt spacious.

Jiang Junming looked around curiously, feeling as if he had returned to his high school days, though his high school chemistry lab was not as spacious.

He observed the surroundings. The walls were thick, with a row of windows at the bottom, all closed. There were several semi-circular arched windows at a height of over a person, open, with ivy creeping in as if it were curious, peering at the unfamiliar young men. Purple and white morning glories were in full bloom, their delicate petals still holding a few dewdrops, trembling as if a gentle breeze would scatter them into a brilliant dream.

The teacher in the green robe led the young men here, spoke a few words to a tall, thin teacher, and then left. The tall, thin teacher stood at the front of the classroom, his eyes cold, not saying a word, scrutinizing the newly enrolled young men.

Jiang Junming observed the teacher who would teach them potion-making. He was tall and thin, wearing a blue robe, with long hair tied back. His cheeks were hollow, his eyes squinted, sharp, his nose slightly flat with a red tip, and his thin lips pressed together.

From his appearance, this teacher seemed difficult to get along with, Jiang Junming thought. But he didn’t pay too much attention. As long as he taught well, it didn’t matter whether he was good or bad.

After a moment, all the students gradually entered. The teacher scrutinized each of the hundred or so young men and said, "Today is your first day at the church academy, and this is your first class. Don’t think that because you were outstanding in your previous places, you are special and can be better than others here in the church academy."

The words were harsh, and Jiang Junming smiled inwardly. Indeed, like Little Price, who was an outstanding young man in Moonlight City, he was no longer so prominent in Dusk City. It seemed that any of the newly enrolled young men were not weaker than Little Price.

"So, you’d better behave. If you can’t do what I say, don’t blame me for being harsh," the tall, thin teacher said, his voice sharp and acidic. "By the way, I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Seville. You can call me Teacher Seville. Don’t try to get close to me; the only thing you can do is to learn what I teach. I only hope you are not too stupid, or I will make you regret coming to the church academy."

The young men responded unevenly, and Seville’s face was as dark as if it could drip water, without a smile. He continued, "Some of you may not be familiar with potion-making and have some questions. Why do priests or paladins need to learn potion-making? Isn’t that the job of alchemists?"