Chapter 76:

Ch 73 – Adaption & Transformation

St Chaos Healer


Blessing ritual session 2,225

“… Oh Mother Grimshaw.”

The crystal ball lit up with a brilliant green light, illuminating the entire courtyard and bringing healing to everyone present. As soon as the ritual ended, I suddenly coughed up blood, and my nose began to bleed. Before the usual headache could set in, I collapsed on the spot.

After some time, I felt a cold splash on my face and woke up! Confused, I found myself back in my cellar, soaked in water. That’s when I noticed the guard standing in front of me with an empty bucket.

“So you finally woke up, good,” he said. “Your food’s getting cold. Eat and patch yourself up quickly. There will be yet another ritual session right after that.”

Bastards don’t even feel a tiny tinge of remorse for poor me. I literally healed like 100 thousand people till now, even at the expense of my deteriorating health. Yet I am still being treated like shit.
I took the food tray.

Before heading out, the guard turned around.

“Also, there's a healing potion this time. So use it before we head up,” he added and then left.

I glanced at the potion placed inside the food tray. Picking up the vial, I examined it closely. The dull green liquid indicated a low-level healing potion. They could certainly afford better, but it was still better than nothing, especially since my mana arts didn’t work on me at all.

However, I noticed the lid of the vial was loose as if someone had tampered with it. Looking closer, I realized the potion was half-empty. Either it had been filled halfway, or someone had stolen part of it.

I let out a sigh. “No point in complaining now.”

I ate my lunch, then took the pills and the potion, preparing myself for the next ritual.

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Blessing ritual session 2,471

Standing before the crystal ball, I placed my hand on it and began reciting the familiar incantation.

“Oh, Benevolent Lady Grimshaw,

In your radiant light, we find solace.

With gentle hands…”

As I recited, I felt the mana within me being drawn out, flowing into the crystal ball. This artifact amplified my magic, multiplying its effect across a wide area. However, the trade-off was significant—it consumed a substantial amount of mana in the process.

As the crystal ball illuminated with green light, it healed the people. I quickly grabbed my head with both hands and got on my knees, anticipating the splitting headache that always caused me to blackout. I knelt preemptively, hoping to avoid falling on my face.

The guards rushed to my side to pick me up, gripping my arms to help me stand. I looked around in shock, waiting for the usual pain to begin. But instead, all I could hear were the murmurs of happy, healed nobles thanking me.

“Thank you, Apostle of Grimshaw.”

“I can see again! Thank you!”

“You saved my son! God bless you!”

I noticed the priest smiling as he looked at me, his expression unreadable.

The guards tried to carry me, but I pushed them away.

“I—I am fine. I am fine?” I asked, puzzled.

The searing headache, the bleeding from my mouth and nose—none of it happened today. Why was that?

I stood up fully and realized that I felt healthier than ever. For some reason, I was feeling better than before.

After a long while, I made my way back to my cellar under my own power, fully conscious.

I ate lunch and took my mana-recovery pills. Soon after, it was time for the second ritual of the day.

Heading up to the courtyard, I conducted the blessing ritual, and once again, I felt no headache or any pain at all. I left the courtyard on my own two feet, utterly astonished by this unexpected turn.

Back in my cellar, I took my mana-recovering pills once more and decided to rest for a while, taking a short nap.


Around 6 PM, I performed the third ritual of the day. Once again, I returned healthy and unscathed. The headache was gone, and it seemed my body had finally adapted to the strain.

I was elated; I no longer had to endure the agony that had plagued me for so long. Initially skeptical, I grew more confident as the days passed and I continued to perform the rituals without incident. The excruciating pain was a thing of the past. It felt like I had leveled up in some way. Though I still couldn’t heal my own body, this was significant progress.

Feeling optimistic, I considered increasing the number of rituals I performed each day. If this improvement continues, I might be able to complete my quota in just a few months.

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Blessing ritual session 2,544

I had just completed my third blessing session of the day. As usual, my dedicated followers greeted me with reverence, kneeling to kiss my feet in gratitude. We exchanged pleasantries, and I delivered words of faith.

"Yes, it is through the benevolent power of Lady Grimshaw that I am able to heal all of you here. If anyone deserves your thanks, it is Lady Grimshaw! Without her divine power, I would be nothing more than a mere mortal," I declared dramatically, echoing the rhetoric of churchmen.

"All hail Lady Grimshaw!" my followers responded in unison.

"Now that this is concluded, I shall return to my quarters," I announced before making my way back.

Just as I was about to leave, a plump man wearing glasses stepped forward.

"Kind Apostle, I caught word that you, the apostle of Grimshaw, have been mistreated under the kingdom’s care. Is that the truth?" he asked.

Suddenly, all the noble followers turned their heads in our direction, their eyes wide with concern.

The priest standing beside me quickly intervened,
"Now, now, where could you have heard such horrendous rumors, Mr. Polo?"

I could see the priest beginning to sweat.

"Is that true? I have the power to move you from this place if I have a word with the warden," Mr. Polo continued.

"Now, now, I shall write a direct petition to the royal family if this turns out to be true," another noble follower chimed in.

"How insolent of them to treat the Apostle of Lady Grimshaw in such a manner," someone else added, their voice tinged with anger.

Many other noble followers echoed these sentiments, their voices rising in a chorus of outrage.

The plump man raised his hand, silencing the murmurs around him. "I have connections with the Holy Church of the Virtues. If I inform them that the Apostle of Grimshaw has been mistreated, I am sure they will send an army to rescue him at once."

The priest quickly rushed to the man's side, his face a mask of panic. "We have provided him with the best arrangements the kingdom has to offer. As a priest of the church myself, I have personally overseen all his needs. There's no need to believe in empty rumors," he said, sweating profusely.

Seeing my chance to intervene, I stepped forward. "Indeed, I have been well taken care of by the priest and the kingdom. I am grateful for their support. However, I appreciate your concern, Mr. Polo. It warms my heart to know there are those who care so deeply for my well-being."

The crowd seemed to calm a bit, though their eyes were still fixed on me, awaiting more. I continued, "Lady Grimshaw's light shines upon us all, and it is through her grace that I am able to perform these blessings. Let us not let rumors cloud our faith and trust in her divine plan."

The nobles nodded, some still murmuring among themselves, but the immediate tension seemed to dissipate. The priest gave me a grateful look, clearly relieved by my words.

"Thank you, Apostle," Mr. Polo said, bowing slightly, "We only wish to ensure that you are treated with the respect and care you deserve."

"Your concern is noted and appreciated," I replied. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I must return to my jail cellar to prepare for the next ritual. Lady Grimshaw's work is never done."

"Jail cellar?" Mr. Polo's eyes widened in shock. "You are kept in a cellar? Like some kind of a prisoner?"

Slowly, shock spread among the other followers as well. They began to turn into an angry mob.

The priest and even the guards were a bit worried seeing the angry followers. After all, most of the followers participating in this ritual were quite rich and influential people around the world. So pissing them off would not really be a great idea.

The followers turned to the priest, expecting an answer.

"But we've arranged the best room for him. It's the apostle himself who chooses to live in the cellar," the priest stammered nervously.

All eyes turned to me. I glanced at the priest, who was visibly sweating now—a rare sight for the composed old man.

I smiled gently. "I don't require a luxurious room. A cellar with a warm bed and food is more than sufficient for me. My true home lies under the watchful gaze of Mother Grimshaw," I declared dramatically, raising my hands towards the sky.

The setting sun streamed through the glass ceiling, casting a divine glow upon me and adding to the theatrics. I could see tears welling in the eyes of the followers, who knelt before me.

"The benevolent one! All hail Mother Grimshaw!" chanted the fervent followers.

Meanwhile, the priest wore a troubled expression, which I found quite satisfying.

Afterward, I returned to my cellar with a contented smile. Seeing the priest in distress had been oddly satisfying.

Living in this cellar had become comfortable enough for me; I had no desire to return to my luxury room in the citadel. After all, I am going to leave this place for good after completing my blessing ritual quotas. I also planned to reunite with my parents and leverage my position as the Apostle to forge connections with nobles. This could help me gather information about my past enemies and possibly find a way back to the demon realm.

However, I knew I wasn't yet strong enough to face them alone. I could continue healing troubled nobles and accumulate wealth, which I could then use to hire an adventuring party for revenge. Yet, the idea of letting others do the fighting didn't sit right with me; I preferred to deliver the final blow myself. This plan was just a placeholder for now, as I doubted any adventurer mages were capable enough to confront the generals directly.

In any case, it was too early to make firm plans. I needed to wake up early in the morning for another ritual.

Dinner arrived, and I enjoyed a hearty meal: hot stew accompanied by ginger pasta and barbecued bacon on the side. For dessert, there was a delectable chocolate cake. It seemed the organizers were becoming more considerate; they knew the importance of keeping me satisfied.

I went to sleep and had a great dream that night.

The next morning, I awoke to the familiar sound of guards striking their sticks against the iron fence, signaling us in the cellars to wake up. Feeling groggy as usual, I rubbed my heavy eyelids and made my way to the corner toilet for the morning routine. As I adjusted my aim, I noticed something unusual—my morning wood was harder than usual, requiring careful calibration to avoid a mess.

After finishing, I moved to the basin to wash my hands and then splashed water on my face, finally forcing my eyes wide open. Grabbing a nearby towel, I wiped my face clean and glanced at myself in the mirror.

“What the hell?” I muttered under my breath.

To my shock, my face appeared to be peeling, revealing what looked like tree bark underneath. It stretched from under my eyes to my left ear, along my neck, and across my right cheek. I instinctively reached to touch it, trying to peel it off, only to realize it was firmly attached to my skin.

I examined my hands next and found the same transformation—a hardening, tree-like texture had replaced the skin on my palms. Panic set in, and I hastily stripped off my clothes in front of the mirror for a closer inspection. Sure enough, patches of my body were turning into what resembles tree bark, each touch confirming its rigid texture. Even my manhood was affected and started to turn into an actual wood!

Frantically, I rushed to the bathing space and poured water from the buckets, washing my body, hoping that it would come off. But as I took another look my skin didn’t change at all. Parts of my body had retained its tree bark-like transformation.

"What the fuck is going on? What's happened to my body?" I screamed in surprise.

Just when I thought everything was going well.

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