Bishop Kosuren was a man of action.
Celia had experienced this firsthand during her school days.
She never imagined that, after being rehired following retirement, the old man’s energy would not only fail to diminish, but instead grow even more ferocious with a new research topic.
In the church’s backyard, Celia was not basking in the sun on a lounge chair, but sprawled on a blanket.
Her arms stretched out before her, upper body pressed flat against the ground, her hips sticking high up—a position that forced her into an extremely humiliating cat-stretch pose.
“It hurts, it hurts, I’m going to break—I’m really going to break!”
The girl’s pained scream startled a few sparrows from the trees.
“What are you screaming for? We’re just getting started.”
Kosuren’s voice was as cold as the air from a freezer.
“To precisely control the balance of Thunder Element, you need tremendous physical resilience and core strength. Look at you now—so feeble and weak.”
Celia buried her face in the blanket, tears brimming in her eyes.
She’d worked in an office in her previous life, and been a shut-in this time around.
Other than nice skin, this body was all but devoid of muscle.
Such intense stretching felt more like torture than training.
“Elent, hold down her legs.” Kosuren gave the order.
Elent, who had been standing off to the side, froze.
“Huh? M-me?”
He looked down at Celia sprawled on the ground.
Because of the vigorous movement, her loose nun’s robe had ridden up, exposing the fair skin of her thighs.
Elent’s hands hovered in the air, unsure where to put them.
“Hurry up! This is for the development of the Sanctuary Liquid—what are you dawdling for?” Kosuren urged impatiently.
For the Sanctuary Liquid.
For justice.
For Priestess’s training.
Elent silently repeated this to himself three times, then reached out and grasped Celia’s slender ankles.
The sensation in his palms was soft and warm, like holding a piece of freshly baked cake.
His hands trembled even more, and he kept his gaze fixed on the grass beneath him, not daring to look up.
“Elent, you traitor!”
Feeling her legs pinned by a pair of ironclad hands, Celia shouted in despair.
“Push down even further.” Kosuren ignored his student’s protests.
“Ugh!”
“Teacher, I can’t do this anymore! I really can’t!”
“Hang in there for another ten seconds.”
“I can’t even last one! I’m going to break!”
Celia struggled with all her might, but under Elent’s restraint and Kosuren’s suppression, any resistance was futile; it only twisted her posture into something even stranger and more uncomfortable.
Sweat trickled down her cheeks, dripping onto the blanket.
Celia panted heavily, both genuinely exhausted and truly in pain.
Ten minutes later.
Kosuren finally showed some mercy and called for a halt.
Celia collapsed limply onto the blanket like a puddle of mud, not even wanting to twitch a finger.
Elent, as if he’d survived a deadly battle, backed away, drenched in sweat and with his back to everyone, not daring to look at Celia at all.
“Rest for five minutes, then move on to the next set.” Kosuren glanced at his pocket watch, announcing coldly.
The next set?
Celia’s pupils trembled.
It’s not over yet?
If this training continued, she’d die from exhaustion long before Thunder Holy Elixir could be mass produced.
She had to think of a way.
She had to use science to get out of this torment.
Driven by survival instinct, Celia’s mind began to work faster than ever before.
Since what the teacher wanted was Thunder Holy Elixir, and the core challenge was the infusion of Thunder Element during stirring and precise force control—
She had previously been indispensable because only she could control the Saint Celery.
But now, there was a ready-made Thunder Element vessel right next to her.
Celia turned her head, fixing her gaze on the sweat-wiping Elent.
“Teacher, this primitive hand-made method is too inefficient.”
“If you want the output you desire, what we need is—an Alchemical Assembly Line!”
“What’s that?”
“It’s the Ultimate Alchemy Secret.”
Celia climbed up from the ground, grabbed a tree branch, and started drawing on the earth.
“Look, the key to Thunder Holy Elixir is injecting Thunder Element while stirring. Elent drank the elixir, and he’s built up an excess of Thunder Element in his body—he’s basically a living thunder generator now!”
She pointed at Elent.
“As long as he grabs the stick and keeps spinning it at high speed, centrifugal force will mix the syrup, and his body will discharge electricity into the batch at the same time…”
“Not only does this boost efficiency, but it helps Elent expel excess Thunder Force so he won’t become a magnet again. It’s killing two birds with one stone!”
Most importantly, I won’t have to move.
Celia left this last part unsaid.
Kosuren looked at the sketch on the grass, then at the thoroughly baffled Elent, pondering for a moment.
“Using a human body as an alchemical medium, to achieve element fusion…”
Kosuren stroked the stubble on his chin.
“As absurd as it sounds, it’s theoretically feasible.”
“Let’s try it.”
……
Half an hour later.
A pot was set up on the kitchen table.
Elent stood before it, gripping a thick rod.
“Are you ready, Hero?” Celia sat on a small bench to the side, her composure restored.
“Always ready!”
“Then let’s begin.”
“Raaahhh!”
Elent let out a low shout, and the rod in his hand blurred with speed.
Syrup, berry juice, and herbal extract inside the pot spun under terrifying centrifugal force, forming a bottomless black vortex.
“Now! Release your power!” Celia commanded.
With a single thought, Elent sent the accumulated Thunder Element surging down his arm into the rod.
Purple arcs crackled inside the pot, countless tiny flashes of lightning glimmering in the dark liquid.
“Too slow, go faster!” Kosuren barked from the side, dissatisfied with the speed.
“Yes, sir!”
Elent clenched his teeth, spinning even faster.
He moved so quickly that a whirlwind swept through the kitchen, making all the pots and pans clatter and rattle.
Celia took a bite of fruit, watching with satisfaction.
This was the retired life she wanted.
The boss moves her mouth, the workers run their legs off.
But good times don’t last long.
“Celia, stop sitting there like a fool.”
Kosuren’s voice drifted over.
“Now that your hands are free, your Spiritual Sense is unused.”
“Wrap your Spiritual Sense around the pot. If you detect an uneven Thunder Element distribution, guide it immediately.”
“…?”
“What are you waiting for? This is the most mentally taxing job there is—perfect to train your Spiritual Sense.”
Kosuren tapped the table.
“Begin. If the pot explodes, you’ll do two extra hours of squats tonight.”
“…”
With tears in her eyes, Celia closed them and released her Spiritual Sense.
Elent was spinning so hard his face was flushed red, his body steaming and sparking, looking ready to overload at any moment.
“Steady, Hero! You’re spinning too fast—the bubbles are about to burst!”
“I can’t stop, Priestess! The momentum’s too much!”
“Teacher! Help! It’s going to overflow!”
“This is a training ordeal! No one is allowed to stop!”
……
That night, Celia not only missed dinner, but was also forced to endure hellish training in the yard.
As for Elent, from spinning so much, he staggered like a drunken duck, occasionally bumping into trees.
Only Bishop Kosuren stood there with a cup of charred but just barely successful Thunder Holy Elixir in hand, letting out a satisfied sigh.
“Hic—”
“This powerful taste… His Holiness the Pope will definitely love it.”
Poor things.