Imprisoned for a Trillion Years, I Was Worshipped by All Gods!

Not long after the clerics had finished dealing with the bounty hunter’s corpse, one of the Church doctors broke away from the main group and swiftly caught up to Alan, who had already left the scene.

Seeing this doctor, just like the bounty hunter before, blocking his path without any intention of giving way, Alan couldn’t help but feel a surge of irritation.

“Get lost,” Alan growled coldly.

The doctor grinned widely, his expression turning strangely twisted.

“You said earlier that your life was worth a lot of money, right?

Perfect timing. Uncle here is a little short on cash lately.

Be a good boy and die for me, will you? Uncle needs some spending money.”

Alan let out a cold chuckle.

“Sure, let’s see if you’ve got what it takes to claim it!”

Without wasting another word, Alan charged forward.

His mana Overpressure flared to its maximum, and he poured all his killing intent into a single decisive strike.

The overwhelming surge of mana caused even the nearby clerics, who hadn’t gone far, to clutch at their chests in shock.

“This pressure… Could it be a Tier-Platinum Magus?”

They exchanged stunned glances, scarcely daring to believe what they sensed.

Before they could recover, the air around the Church was suddenly swept up by a violent whirlwind.

At the same time, the temperature spiked dramatically.

In Alan’s hands, fierce currents of air and searing flames rapidly condensed into the shape of twin swords.

Elemental Light Sword Technique.

Moreover, the elements Alan chose—Wind and Fire—were a perfect match, amplifying each other’s fury.

Ever since he first discovered this combination, Alan had grown fond of it.

Not only was it visually impressive, but its destructive power and area coverage were truly formidable.

Watching Alan effortlessly meld two wild elements into a blazing sword of wind and flame, the Church doctor couldn’t help but break into a nervous sweat.

But rather than retreat, he was only further provoked, his Battle Spirit igniting with rage.

White and red crystalline scales began forming across his body—

a rare and specialized fusion of ice element magic and blood essence.

The clerics nearby were left stunned.

None of them had suspected that the mild-mannered doctor who worked among them daily was hiding such terrifying strength.

To fuse Origin Mana directly into one’s bodily tissues required extraordinary precision in mana sculpting, not to mention immense courage.

One mistake could mean instant death.

At the very least, only someone at the peak of Tier-Gold—or even someone already on the verge of Tier-Platinum—would dare attempt it.

Before anyone could make sense of the revelation, Alan and the Church doctor clashed.

Wind and fire, ice and blood—four different forces collided hundreds of times in an instant.

When the dust settled, the outcome was brutally clear.

Alan stood tall and unharmed.

The Church doctor, meanwhile, was a charred, broken mess.

His body was riddled with countless razor-thin cuts, as though he had been torn apart by a tornado filled with blades.

The clerics were frozen in disbelief.

A doctor whose strength had reached the absolute pinnacle of Tier-Gold—maybe even the early threshold of Tier-Platinum—had been obliterated by Alan in one exchange.

They hadn’t even seen clearly what had happened.

One moment, the doctor had unleashed his full strength;

the next, he was nothing but a smoking corpse.

This wasn’t even a fight.

It was absolute, overwhelming domination.

The young man standing there—Alan—seemed, in their terrified eyes, like a death god who had crawled straight out of the abyss.

But just when they thought Alan might leave coldly and silently, he did something completely unexpected.

Alan turned around, casually strode back to the doctor’s corpse, and began rifling through it.

A few moments later, he extracted several valuable mana stones and stuffed them into his pockets.

The Church of Steam and Magic might lack many things,

but money was not one of them.

How could Alan possibly leave without shearing a bit of wool from these fat sheep?

Satisfied, Alan dusted off his hands and made his way into the Church’s interior.

This time, he didn’t hesitate.

He headed straight for the Church’s Trading Division, flashing the diamond card Daniel had previously given him.

A young female bishop quickly rose from behind the reception counter to greet this distinguished guest.

Once Alan stated his purpose, the bishop carefully examined the twelve Zodiac Mana Cores using a series of verification spells.

After a moment, Alan frowned slightly and asked,

“Can you give me a rough estimate?

Just so I have an idea before deciding.”

The bishop didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, she clicked her tongue in amazement.

“Tsk, tsk… Such astonishing purity… And so ancient too.

Even if we were only buying these as collector’s items, their value would be immense.”

“But,” she continued, “if Mr. Alan insists on selling them simply as mana cores, then the Church would probably offer this price.”

She lifted her hand and flashed a seven with her fingers.

Alan looked confused.

“Seventy thousand? That’s too little, isn’t it?”

“Not seventy thousand,” the bishop corrected with a smile.

“Seven million.”

“Seven… million?”

Alan furrowed his brows, still appearing somewhat dissatisfied.

He had hoped for a higher number, but right now he didn’t have anything better to offer either.

He asked instead,

“If I want to buy a staff from you, given my diamond card status, how much of a discount could I get?”

The bishop blinked, then quickly responded,

“For an esteemed guest like yourself, we would certainly provide the maximum possible discount.

However, please understand—the Church’s Trading Division is still a business.

We have to make a living too.”

“Besides,” she added, “staffs are the hard currency among magi.

Every single one involves a painstakingly complex crafting process.

Naturally, their prices are steep.”

“If you truly wish to purchase one, even with a discount, we would still need to charge a transaction fee of around five million.”

“How much?! Five million?!”

Alan nearly twisted his face into a knot.

He understood that the Church wouldn’t dare scam him—

doing so would be equivalent to courting death.

But still…

Five million for a single staff?

It was absurdly expensive.

Now he finally understood why, even after hundreds of years, the Plantagenet Kingdom had failed to produce a new magus.

The cost was simply too astronomical.

It wasn’t just individuals—even mid-sized factions would struggle to bear it.

Even those wealthy, ancient powers might find their coffers drained dry just trying to cultivate a single magus.

And that was only for the staff.

Exclusive magus skills and spells?

Those were even rarer—practically priceless, and almost impossible to acquire through normal means.

After pondering for a moment, Alan decisively emptied out all his possessions.

Most of the items were miscellaneous materials and potions he had scavenged from enemies he defeated.

There was also the arrow quiver he had seized from the bounty hunter earlier.

Even if the quiver itself wasn’t worth much, the arrow shafts inside—crafted from various types of magical staff cores—could be reforged into a new staff at a much lower cost than purchasing one outright.

Maybe, just maybe, he could make it work.

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